One Single Thing

by Tina Clough

  ‘True, they do. I think you’re right about this.’

  ‘I love being right,’ says Dao, and we go back to sleep.

  I wake up again at twenty-five to six. Dao is sitting up in bed holding a phone to her ear.

  That’s my phone, I think, and I bet she’s looked Benson up in my Contacts list. I hope he hasn’t answered yet.

  I say quietly, ‘Stop. It’s too early.’

  She ignores me, and I lie back, waiting to hear how she will get Benson to do what she wants.

  ‘Hi, Benson. I hope you were awake?’ Short silence. ‘Oh, good. That’s OK, then. No there’s nothing wrong, I’m fine. But can you please come here on your way to work? I really need you.’

  She listens and shakes her head. ‘Of course not, it’s nothing like that.’ A longer silence this time; Dao is frowning.

  ‘But Benson, that’s not true. You know he only does that kind of thing when it’s necessary and nobody else will do anything. I promise it’s not anything bad, but you’re the only person I know who can help me.’

  She listens for a moment and she says, ‘OK, thanks. We’ll give you breakfast. See you.’

  I enjoy the way she handles Benson. She turns and sees me grinning. ‘Stop laughing, Hunter. We must get up right away. He’s coming on his way to work and today he has to be there at seven. We have to make breakfast – he’ll be here really soon, or he’ll be late for work.’

  By five past six Benson, who conveniently lives in Hillcrest, a fact I never knew before, is sitting at our dining table eating porridge with brown sugar. He looks as if he isn’t quite sure how he got to be here. Dao leans over and puts a pad in front of him. We have agreed that there must be no mention of Tama’s visit and I wonder what is on her list. Things have happened at speed this morning; she must have written it while I was making the porridge.

  ‘You do understand how important this is, don’t you,’ she says seriously. ‘I know you can’t investigate because that other authority, whatever they are, won’t let you. But surely you can just open Hope’s file and look? Or is it really locked in some way, like with a password?’

  Benson’s expression is that of a man who has walked into a trap. A mixture of ‘Oh, shit’ and ‘How do I get out of this?’

  ‘I can’t open that file,’ he says, his finger tapping the top item on her list. ‘It would be unethical because there is no reason for me to look at it. Everyone who opens a computer file in our system leaves a kind of trail. I’ll never make inspector if I get caught doing something like this. I might even get demoted and have to put on a uniform and patrol the streets again.’

  He is exaggerating, of course, but it has the intended effect. Dao reaches across the table and pulls the pad back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise. I don’t want you to get into trouble.’

  She reads her list, ticks one item and pushes the pad back to Benson. ‘Can you find out this one thing?’

  He drinks some coffee to give himself time to think. I am amused and feeling sorry for him at the same time. Once again it is probably something he is not supposed to do. After a moment he caves in. ‘OK, I’ll see what I can do.’

  Dao beams at him. ‘Good! And you do know so many useful people. I bet you always know someone who knows something.’

  Benson’s expression is a mixture of admiration for Dao’s tactics and slight apprehension. I imagine he is wondering if that last bit is a veiled threat referring to the information about the truck on the motorway he gave us, and how he found that out.

  When he leaves, Dao takes him down to the front door and I hear her comforting him as they go down the stairs. ‘You don’t need to worry, Benson. I would never tell anyone what you tell us, never! You’re my friend. We must trust each other.’

  Good girl, I think. He deserves to know we would never do anything that harms his reputation.

  We tidy up and I sit down to work and forget to ask Dao what that item on her list was. The London office has sent an email saying the contracts for the last job have been sent out and they’ve attached the specs for a new one. It’s a simple bodyguard-cum-driver set-up that requires someone with good close-combat skills and high-speed driving training; Central America this time. Sometimes I get a run of these simple jobs that just require the right people being assigned. I was on shared operations with quite a few of guys who are now on our books, and having a good memory is an advantage.

  Some jobs are complicated and require me to visit a client to get a good picture of what’s needed. Variables like the layout of buildings, potential sniper vantage points, security measures already in place. Alternative points of egress and exit can be hard to assess from photos and descriptions.

  The people whose personnel needs I deal with range from educated, ruthless and scary to just ruthless and scary. The men we contract out are ex-armed forces and fall into two groups: those who can’t find a civilian job that pays well, and those who still yearn for conflict, danger and the feel of a weapon in their hands. And the money is good. This time it’s easy to find someone suitable, so I sort it in no time. I spot a name in the database that shouldn’t be there, a guy who was killed doing a bodyguard job in Venezuela. I red-flag it for London.

  I go back to our surveillance video and find the bookmarked place where the man stands on the other side of the street and Noah rings the doorbell the first time. It is hard to get a definite idea of what he looks like. He is medium height, medium build and appears to be wearing a jacket of an undefined colour with the hood up. His profile is only visible for a few seconds as he steps into the shadows and nearly disappears. He has a moustache that curves down around the corner of his mouth. I snip a still from the video and save it.

  I enlarge the image and stare at it for a long time, trying to imagine him without the moustache, but it rings no bells. I continue watching recorded footage.

  The system is usually set to movement activation: the sensor only detects something moving close to the front of the house. But once the camera starts recording, it takes in the full wide-angle view; across the street and out to the sides. Now and then Dao changes it to constant recording, but not very often these days. Watching the on-off clips nearly puts me to sleep, but suddenly I see something and rewind. There he is again, early in the morning a few days after Noah’s first visit. I snip another still image.

  He stands for a minute just on the inner edge of the sidewalk, just close enough to trigger the sensor. He looks up at the house and then walks away, out of the picture. The entire scene takes seconds, but his focus is definite. He’s interested in the house, came back in daylight to have a good look, noted the lights and the camera. He’s wearing a cap, but I recognise the chin and the moustache. It is the same man. I save the image, the best one so far. Who is he and what is he after?

  I open the old clips of the guy who came while we were in the South Island a year ago and compare them with these later ones, but it is a different man. I make a mental note to tell Benson about this renewed activity.

  We have dinner with Willow and Matt and the twins, who are two years old and in perpetual motion. Dao spends half the time on the floor with them and Scruff, playing hide and seek at floor level. Plum is there on a weekend visit from Taupo and tries very hard to find out why I wanted to locate Tama.

  ‘There’s nothing to tell yet,’ I say. ‘No news at all, so stop nagging me. I said I would tell you and I will. When did I ever break a promise?’

  She grins. ‘Give me some time and I’m sure I’ll remember something. Didn’t you promise me a new car if I got my degree finished?’

  ‘Good try – but no, I certainly didn’t.’

  She goes out straight after dinner to catch up with friends and Matt puts the twins to bed, so we can talk.

  ‘Tell me more about this Tama guy,’ says Willow. ‘I couldn’t ask while Plum was here, but I’m dying to know. Who is he and what does he know?’

  I called Noah this morning and warned him
about telling Willow too much, particularly not speculations about where Tama works. She might have reservations about acting on confidential information. But Noah is a loose cannon and I can’t even guess what he might have told her. Willow is very perceptive, so I must get it right. I say briefly that Tama has promised to tell us if he comes across any additional information and we will let her know what eventuates. I mention that Noah seems to have a grudge against Tama for some reason and behaves as if he thinks maybe Tama abducted Hope.

  Dao elaborates, still indignant about his behavior. ‘I think there’s something wrong with Noah.’

  She looks seriously at Willow and shakes her head. ‘He has really weird ideas about people. I mean, we knew he was kind of twitchy and nervous about things – but this thing about Tama! It was just crazy. I suppose he can’t help it. Being stupid, I mean. But it’s very hard to work with someone who’s like that and we need everything Tama can tell us. If he does call, we’ll meet with him without Noah. Hunter will explain it, just so you know, but it’s the only way.’

  Willow has expected this; she is good at reading people. ‘I know. Noah is tricky to deal with and hard to keep on topic. But how are you going to handle it from now on if he has developed some kind of grudge against Tama? And what could he possibly base a grudge on, anyway? It sounds mad. Are you just going to keep going and leave him out of it?’

  ‘We have to keep them separate, Willow. If Noah alienates Tama we’ve lost our only direct link to Hope’s disappearance. He nearly alienated both Samantha and Willard already, and he’s getting more volatile by the day.’

  ‘I hope you realise that anything you tell me, any new information you give me, I have to tell Noah. I can’t act for him and keep information you give me secret. So you’ll have to devise a way of keeping things separate. The only thing that worries me is that you might come across information that could be vital, and I won’t find out. Have you thought of that?’

  I knew she would say this. I would feel the same way if I were in her shoes. Knowing that there might be relevant information, but not having access to it is frustrating. For Willow it is doubly hard that it is I who will find things out and withhold them from her. It is not what she likes to think of as the natural order of things. Poor Willow.

  ‘I will tell you what I can, things that won’t trigger damaging reactions from Noah. And as soon as the block is removed from Hope’s file, I’ll give you everything we have.’

  Dao looks thoughtful now, understands the implications. I know how it is going to work from our side, but I am not going to tell Willow. She has a very strong sense of ethics and disapproves of the idea that some things simply have to be done, whether they are strictly legal or not.

  She obviously has serious doubts about what I might be planning. When I was tracking down Dao’s captor, and trying to keep us both safe at the same time, I had to do a few things that she disapproved of. Now she wants to keep me under control, but she knows she can’t, and it drives her crazy.

  ‘That’s all very well, Hunter, but I know you! I know what you are capable of if you think the situation warrants it – and it’s probably going to create problems again. Remember what a close call it was with Benson. You were so lucky he didn’t charge you. And there’s something you’re not saying, something else about this Tama guy. Are you going to tell me?’

  I deny it and Matt heroically changes the topic before it turns into an argument and we talk about other things. When we leave Willow asks, with seeming innocence, ‘And how is Charlie these days? Do you see a lot of her?’

  It is so transparent it makes me laugh. ‘For Christ’s sake, Willow, you have to try harder! If you want to know if Charlie is in any way involved in this, just ask. And no, she has never heard of Hope or Noah.’

  I don’t tell her that I am going to call Charlie in the morning and ask her to come over for a brain storming session. Dao doesn’t know either; it will be a nice surprise for her.

  When we get home, Dao turns the CCTV camera to continuous recording. She used to do this after the trial when she was a media darling and people staked out the house hoping to get a photo of her. I don’t know what has triggered it this time, but I say nothing, just nod when she tells me what she is going to do. I wake up several times in the night and find her checking the tablet. The fourth time I protest, ‘You’ll be very tired in the morning if you keep checking the camera all the time.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she puts the tablet on the floor. ‘I’m just making sure nobody is out there.’

  ‘Why? Do you think we are being watched?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve seen the same man a couple of times lately. Not here, at other places. It made me remember last year, that creepy guy who kept coming and staring at the house after the trial. But I might be wrong. And it’s not him, anyway.’

  ‘Let’s keep the camera on all the time then,’ I say. ‘It doesn’t matter. You can check it tomorrow.’

  ‘OK, I’ll check it right through in the morning and if he’s out there I’ll show you.’

  I don’t mention the images I saved, or we will get no sleep at all. I pull her closer and shut my eyes.

  Chapter fifteen

  While I make breakfast, Dao sits in front of her laptop and fast-forwards through the night’s recordings. She sees nobody suspicious. No cars slow down or stop, nobody stands on the pavement on either side. ‘But I’ll leave the camera on permanent function again,’ she says, ‘just for a couple of days.’

  I nearly ask her to tell me more; what he looks like and where she thinks she saw him. It is hard to strike a balance between protecting her from her worries and letting her cope in her own way. I decide to leave it for now, but I wonder if the man she saw is the guy who was outside when Noah came. I will pick my time and then show her the images I saved from the video.

  When Charlie returns my message and says she can come over after lunch, I don’t mention it. The doorbell goes just after one and I say casually to Dao, ‘Can you please get that?’

  She checks the tablet on the table and jumps up. ‘It’s Charlie!’ and runs down the stairs at breakneck speed.

  It takes at least quarter of an hour to get Charlie through the process of being greeted by Dao and Scruff. I usefully occupy myself with getting a couple of cold bottles of beer out of the fridge, while I wait for my turn.

  Eventually we sit down, and Charlie raises her bottle. ‘Cheers, mate! So what’s the problem? You didn’t say much in that message. Do you need the chopper for something?’

  ‘We just want you to check out this thing we got involved in. You might come up with something we’ve missed.’

  First up we give her the printouts of Hope’s stories to read. Dao arranges them chronologically before she hands them over. Charlie reads them in silence, occasionally she shakes her head, but she asks no questions.

  ‘Wow!’ She puts the little pile of papers on the table. ‘That’s some story! How did you get involved?’

  Dao picks up the papers and straightens the edges, lines them up perfectly parallel with the edge of the table.

  ‘Hunter will tell you. It’s a long story now.’ She sits back in her corner of the sofa and pulls her feet up.

  Charlie looks at me with raised eyebrows. ‘This seems strangely familiar, Hunter. This is just how you and I sat when you told me about finding Dao in the bush. The first time I met you, Dao. Remember?’

  Dao grins. ‘And I didn’t know if you were a girl or a man, remember?’

  I start with Noah’s first visit and try to get it in order. Every now and then Charlie asks me to explain something and a couple of times Dao interjects with a detail. We play her the recordings from our phones and finally I describe Benson’s visit.

  ‘Shit, girl!’ says Charlie to Dao. ‘You know what this means, don’t you? Benson is going to flip if he hears I’m involved, and Kristen will make me sleep in the spare room for a year. Talk about being in trouble. I might have
to come and live with you two.’

  Dao shakes her head. ‘No, no, Benson won’t be angry. I’m sure he won’t. He just gave you a hard time because you didn’t tell him before we went to that factory, but I think he likes you. Remember how he asked about your guns that night, after we got back from the hospital? I could tell he liked you then.’

  She thinks for a moment. ‘Do you have to tell Kristen? She’ll be furious. Didn’t you promise her not to get involved in anything with Hunter ever again?’

  ‘I’ve got to tell her, chook,’ says Charlie. ‘If she finds out later, then I’m in serious trouble. Perhaps I should get you to explain it to her.’

  I watch them and smile inside. Charlie, sturdy and dressed in what looks like army fatigues, much the same as when she flew helicopters in Afghanistan a few years ago, androgynous. And Dao, exotic and feminine. Dao admires everything about Charlie; that she’s a pilot, her weapons skills and her practical way of dealing with trouble. She trusts her absolutely. Charlie sometimes refers to Dao as the Warrior princess. She once mentioned the saw-disk frisbee: Dao shuddered and said, ‘But I had to save Hunter!’ Charlie has not mentioned it since.

  ‘So what can I do to help?’ Charlie says now. ‘You know you can have the chopper any time I’m not flying clients, so long as Kristen thinks it’s a pleasure flight.’

  ‘Nothing at the moment, apart from possibly come up with ideas.’

  I watch the condensation from her bottle of beer make a wet circle on her thigh.

  ‘I know it sounds a bit vague, but this whole business is full of things that don’t make sense. I thought if you heard the story in one hit like this, you might come up with something we haven’t thought of.’

  She shakes her head. ‘Sorry, mate. Can’t think of anything even remotely clever. But keep me informed and if that guy Tama does come back, I’d love to hear what he tells you.’

  ‘I’m going to clean the car,’ I say when she leaves. ‘I need to do something physical. It might make me stop thinking in circles.’