by Brian Cain
CHAPTER TEN
At a meeting of the full Ascot board Stillwell was just a face in the crowd, he had little control just minority influence. Miles Chesterton CEO was busy summing up the King George race meeting. A man of private and political influence at thirty five he was young for such a role, an Oxford academic from the public school system many had opposed his posting but Chesterton had powerful allies. He ran his optic nerve across the agenda on his notes on the table before him, looked up with a stern gaze at Stillwell, Chesterton, cleanly shaven with short jet black hair had a slight military fashion about him that had impressed certain members of the aristocracy. "Now we come to a rather distasteful point for open discussion, in the lead up to this years King George an ominous plot to eradicate the horse Flaxmead was aired in the press. No matter what we attempted to convince the media and the Harper stable remained hostile to our hospitality. Further to the point, two leading middle eastern stables withdrew their entries expressing concern regarding security for their entries." Chesterton glared at Stillwell. "Can anyone suggest what would cause such concern and why?"
Several members of the board looked blank faced toward Stillwell prompting explanation. Stillwell looked around with a look of impertinent distain. "The revenue raised by this years King George as previously disclosed in this meeting by the treasurer could be the answer. Harpers stable has solid links to the media in Australia and influence across the globe. A wave of media attention follows this horse wherever it goes and whatever it's involved in, doesn't even have to be an official horse race. The media is already beating up a one on one event in the US involving this horse. Is it not feasible to consider the entire charade conducted by the Harper stable was no more than a clever advertising stunt to attract attention, successfully raising attendance, media coverage and revenue?"
The board's British trainer association representative aired immediate condemnation and a chuckle under his breath. "A horse comes here with a reputation, breaks four course records that we will be chasing for many years to come, breaks overseas attendance records and puts on a show like I have never witnessed and you suggest it's a sham. Pardon me if suggest its poppycock. It was a horse race at a race meeting and that horse can bloody well run like the wind, I think that's more to the point."
Chesterton continued to glare at Stillwell. "It has come to my attention that board members have conducted meetings regarding course business without taking minutes. Our constitution clearly states all course business will be documented. I am also informed these meetings discussed finance and the Australian horse Flaxmead. If evidence comes to light suggesting or implicating members of this board in such conduct I would ask for support in having those members struck from the members list." There was a resounding 'here here' from the board members, Stillwell said nothing. "I personally spoke to Harper and his head of security John Stanton, I was shocked to hear what they thought of us and the thread of threats they believed to have come from within the board." He hesitated. "This horse is owned by two children, I am determined to get to the bottom of this and should any member or the board wish to talk to me regarding this matter I can assure you it will be in the strictest confidence. I invited Harper to bring the horse back next year and assured him they would walk freely within the complex and the military style operation to protect their horse used by the Australian stable for this year's event will not be necessary. In regard to the backlash I have received over this, would you like me to start with the secretary of state and work down or the commissioner of police and work up. From the moment the race finished I have been working on restoring the reputation and credibility of this establishment." Chesterton looked at his watch. "This meeting has run well over time some two hours, does anyone have any more general business." The room was silent. "I declare the meeting closed."
While this meeting was in progress Stanton had a meeting not so far away, within the isolation cells of a military prison. Questioning of the truck driver involved in the Port Hedland arms shipment a man of dubious accord and X member of the navy now a trucking entrepreneur, he had crossed the line. Interrogation of two years had disclosed he was to be sanctioned. Stanton spoke with him briefly prior to Hurst bringing Idris Nasih into the same cell. "Mr Nasih, long time no see."
Nasih went from a look of bland drudgery to one of terror, Hurst pushed him down onto a chair opposite Stanton. Whilst in solitary for so long Nasih's accent had become more Middle Eastern. "You, what do want?"
"You haven't been telling everything." Nasih sat dead still without expression, his orange coveralls making his dark face stand out in the meagre light. "Abdulla Nasih, your brother, you must miss him." Nasih remained silent. "I saw your young son outside his home, nice spot Auburn." Nasih flew at Stanton lunging into a straight right punch sending Nasih crashing back over the chair. Hurst picked him up manhandling him back to the seat. Stanton used a false name for Hurst. "Bob I believe you are releasing our truck driving friend here."
"Yes, this morning."
"He is of no further use here." Hurst bundled the man out of the cell door, their footsteps faded. A shot rang out, Nasih jumped. "Oh, an attempted escape, how sad." Nasih remained still, blood running from his nose. "You come here with complete disregard for our laws but hide behind them while you do so. If disregard for protocol no matter what it may be you will understand that of late fridges in Sydney households have been blowing up when opened, authorities are trying to get to the bottom of the problem, but I'm not, why would I. I'm the cause of it. With so many lives at steak the next one will be in Auburn." Hurst returned and stood in the doorway.
"You infidel pig."
"I admire people who can hold focus under such strain. When I gave you to the authorities you had a weapon I took from you. There's only one like it, belongs to a female friend of mine, she lost it in Dubai. You have two minutes to tell me where your brother operates from, exactly where, or when I return home, I will sanction your family."
"I don't know what you ask me."
"Then I'll shot you and interrogate your family, nasty business, you can imagine how grief-stricken they will be when I inform them of your death. Exceptionally lavish property for people living on Centrelink payments." Nasih remained silent. "Well your two minutes is up." Hurst handed Stanton a pistol, small irregular shaped weapon. Hurst dragged the truck drivers body in and slumped it beside Nasih, he looked down at it. "Go ahead, see if you can find a bullet hole, or even a scratch. Poor man died of a heart attack. This gun contains a liquid, a deadly toxin, undetectable brings on a heart attack. When the liquid enters the barrel chamber it is frozen solid by liquid nitrogen, fired by compressed air the slither of ice enters your body, dissolves into your cardio vascular system and seconds later your dead. Can be used on anyone without trace." Stanton raised the weapon toward Nasih.
"El Asimah Kuwait!"
"I know the city and suburb, the building."
"Block one, three Rashid." Nasih dropped to his knees in tears and mumbled. "Forgive me brother." He looked up at Stanton. "My family."
Stanton holstered the weapon and put his hand on Nasih's shoulder. "I can't harm them, someone else took them out over a year ago." Stanton watched the grief twist his face.
"You know who did this."
"No, I'm sorry, was in the street war."
"I swear by Allah, if you release me I shall do your bidding for payment in allowing me to find the killers."
They looked at each other faces. "You want me to trust you."
"You want me to trust you, you can find and kill me with ease, I am not such a fool. My family has been denied Allah, you know me, if I make a deal with you, I make a deal."
"The street war is over Idris."
"I read of you, you say only the dead are free of war."
Stanton help him to his feet. "You understand me."
"I read of you."
Stanton peered behind his eyes. "You work for me now, I terminate in a different manner to corporations and governance. Your family is
currently a civil matter, get me the information on who killed them."
"I read you do not act on these is it civil matters."
"No but I know somebody who does."
"The Cadiche man."
"Killing a member of the public is a civil matter, killing a child is terminal."
"I find these people for you."
"For us."
"Bob, arrange for his release and transport back to Australia, if you need documents let me know."
"We have his passport, passed on to us by Cadiche, found in a raid in Auburn during the street war."
Nasih turned to Hurst. "Where?"
Hurst looked at Stanton for direction, Stanton thought for a few seconds. "Find out and tell him. Stanton grabbed Nasih's attention by touching his shoulder. "If you do something stupid we cant help, if you run into trouble let us know, ask for Cadiche. As long as you stay clean he can help, once we are sure of the information it's your life."
"I understand."
"Bob can you bring me Renoir."
"He's said nothing for over a year. You have something to loosen his tongue."
"No."
"Then I suggest you wait, he's no good to anyone dead. He's had that many drugs and interrogation he's a zombie." Hurst called a guard and instructed him to take Nasih to admin and hold him till he got there. The guard took Nasih away. "John what are doing, talking about Renoir in front of Nasih, you must have a reason?"
"A very good one."
"And I don't need to know."
Stanton slapped him on the back. "And you don't need to know Bruce. Has our truck driving navy friend come round yet?"
"He's nursing a headache, this new sedative worked in a few seconds."
"You wouldn't want to get the liquid magazines mixed up."
"No, I'll advise Foulness clear magazine identification is a must, now you mention it the only way I know which is which at the moment, is because, I know the one in the gun is the sedative."
"Has the plastic one of these worked yet?"
"No, the plastics don't like the freezing temperatures."
"They have to come up with one that can bypass metal detectors."
"They're on the case."
"I'm keen on this, could save Bella and Roses life one day."
Stanton returned to Australia, during the course of incarceration Idris Nasih had been planted with a tracking device, a chip beneath the skin of his armpit but not big enough to be picked up by airport metal detectors. It emitted a faint signal powered by electrolyses from his own body. It was anticipated it would function for five years tuned to a frequency hunted by a satellite system.