Big White Lies

by Jay Darby

  “Charles McKinlay…” Lionel said. “Yes, you’re right, we’ve made powerful enemies.”

  Klose whistled low-pitched, eyes wide as he nodded.

  “Thousands hated Galios,” Porter said. “Radicals opposing his pro-immigration policies were top of the list…When he backed Carinya and questioned the governments’ priorities this close to an election, he had to go.”

  “I agree,” Lionel said. “His assassination was political.”

  “And KA’s only possible motive are his links to you...”

  “Ah, do you forget, that Ferguson said he’d heard rumors of them being linked to a political party?”

  “Yeah, rumors. But we can only afford to deal with facts, mate. I don’t reckon KA killed Galios…”

  “Well, I still think their men attacked you…They know what Ferguson told us and can’t risk us getting to their files…And if not KA, then who?”

  “Blokes wanting to protect their interests here in Crooked River…”

  Lionel frowned. “Locals?”

  “Yeah mate…Think of that message on our door yesterday. City dogs, leave or die…Jim Thompson and his lackeys don’t want us sniffing around. The way he wrote off Rhode’s murder proves his contempt…And Bill Thompson sure don’t want us here.”

  “Yes, Bill’s made veiled threats, but he’s what, close to 80? Isn’t he just a cranky, money hungry Mayor protecting his town? Does he really want us, dead?”

  Klose rubbed his jaw. “Greed’s the ultimate motivation, bud. I heard the Thompson’s stand to lose millions if we stay out here.”

  Lionel pursed his lips. “Well, we’ll know after the interviews next week if Bill’s got a past to hide…There’s a strong possibility he aided Ferguson in the ’60s.”

  “Those Thompson blokes and their detective mates are loose cannons,” Porter said. “Reckon they’re involved in Rhode’s death, and their puppet Ronny Goodwin knows plenty about it…We’re a threat ‘cos we’ll keep asking questions. A threat they won’t hesitate to kill off…” He threw his hands up. “Fuck, to be honest, I’ve no clue who tried to kill me…All I know is, they’re bloody dangerous.”

  A mask of dismay covered Lionel’s face. “Indeed…Their influence is certainly strong, and far-reaching.” The mask vanished, to reveal a wry smile. “And if it’s as we suspect, they’re protecting secrets contained in the Cumal files…Those files must be a truly, fascinating read.”

  THIRTY NINE

  KA1, the Supreme Leader, stood at the head of a table in a dimly lit meeting room below the abandoned army barracks. He let his blood-red gown drop to the floor and raised a pewter cup. “Gentlemen, what a rare occasion, to have all nine high council members present...” His resonant voice belied the fail body it came from. His eyes sparkled through holes in the ivory mask covering half his face. “And at such short notice…”

  KA4, Lord Adjudicator, scoffed. “Short notice indeed. Three hours, on a Thursday night, and having to travel from Sydney to Newcastle in peak hour traffic…”

  “Come now, my dear friend, I consider attendance in such circumstance to be proof of your commitment.”

  “I can assure you, my Lord,” KA2, the Chief of Staff said, “our commitment to the cause is stronger than ever.”

  “Excellent, then I declare this special meeting open…May the gods protect our kingdom.”

  “For the Kingdom of Alba is great!” the men seated around the table chanted. Their collective voice bounced off damp, stone walls. Each wore a mask over his eyes.

  KA1 sat and shuffled papers. A hush fell over the room. “As you are well aware, we are only two days away from a very important anniversary. This coming Saturday marks an important milestone for our organization…Fifty-five years in Australia. The ceremonial celebrations will be our grandest yet, and the party to follow our most debauched…”

  The others cheered.

  “I’ll drink to that,” KA8 declared, then gulped from his cup. “And, as Chief Abductor, I promise to find us the loveliest of virgins…A sacrifice worthy of the occasion.”

  They cheered and drank, then called to naked slave girls. The girls filled their cups with wine and retreated to dark shadows.

  KA1 turned to his left. “Tell us, KA7, are preparations on track?”

  KA7, the Master of Ceremonies, fiddled with a blue hat on the table in front of him. “They surely are, my Lord,” he said with exaggerated grandeur. “We have three hundred members arriving by bus on late Saturday afternoon. All will be wearing full ceremonial dress. The location is already secure and locked down. Thanks to KA6 and his wonderful accounting skills, our funds are plentiful. We will provide our soldiers a fine feast, much to drink, and generous bonus payments.”

  “Ah, yes, plentiful indeed…” KA1 turned towards the Secretary, KA6. “I read your latest financial report, and see that slave profits have doubled this year. How wonderful, that our oil rich friends in the Middle East now share our appetite for fresh, dark meat…”

  KA6 inclined his head.

  KA2 sniggered. “And as reports from KA5 suggest, they’ve enjoyed the samples we’ve sent from New Guinea as well.”

  KA1 looked to the ceiling and put his hands out with upturned palms. “Praise the Gods, for providing these girls and the riches they bring. Our coffers overflow through their sacrifice...”

  KA3, Lord of War, leaned forward. “A good thing they do overflow...” His voice growled, stern and guttural. “We’ll need every cent to continue paying off High Commissioner Davidson at Interpol, and the like…The Cape Town debacle would’ve been much worse without his involvement…”

  KA9, Master of Espionage, nodded. “If not for Davidson, our men would’ve been caught. His warning gave them time to clean up and escape.”

  “That our men went undetected, with nothing for South African cops to trace back to us, is vital,” KA3 said. “We lost twenty-three girls…So what? Having Davidson on our payroll is money well spent…”

  “Agreed, and his men in Cape Town have eliminated the farm’s owner, a decent crook in his own right, before DEA agents could interview him. And that young Koori bitch in the hospital, the one who tried to talk to Lionel Roberts…”

  “It has always been one of our beliefs, that the more money we have, the safer our interests become,” KA1 said. “However, let this incident in Cape Town be a reminder to remain vigilant and professional. They have been given a sniff, and law enforcement will swarm all over it…”

  “Aah, they should, but will they?” KA4 said. “And speaking of the vermin in blue, I have an update regarding their investigation into Kennard Atkins, and our ‘stolen’ van…Superintendent Williams and his crew have come up empty-handed. Again…And, as South African authorities have failed to find any links back to us, I see no reason to stop shipping goods under the Kennard Atkins name…”

  “Excellent…” KA1 smiled. “Williams and his dogsbody Porter, once again exposed as the incompetent buffoons they are…I have rather enjoyed the ridicule that Sydney’s abductions have brought to the Police Force. And Dan Porter, in particular, deserves the shame…”

  “I’ve heard you say that a few times, my Lord,” KA9 said. “Why this obsession with Porter?”

  A collective sigh echoed around the room.

  KA1 grunted. “That is not for you to know, nor ask…”

  The others sat silent for a moment, as though they dare not speak.

  KA2 turned to KA1. “Just as our South African problem disappears, an old one rears its’ ugly head, and threatens us more than ever…Is it true, that Carinya’s getting more investigators?”

  “Yes, our sources at the AG’s department have confirmed it... They started out as annoying bugs, to be squashed under our heel. They’ve become fat cockroaches, who no matter how many times we stomp them, refuse to die.”

  “They’re a pain in our arses,” KA3 said in a growl, “and although we hate to admit it, a real threat to the Cumal files…A threat that I’ve failed to nullify.
But, let me swear before this high council, Carinya will be squashed soon enough...”

  KA1 chuckled. “KA3, my dear friend, do not be concerned with the security of the files. Yes, that fool Ferguson said too much, but they are in a safe place, under the excellent care of our magnificent Secretary. Police will never get to them. And do not be too hard on your men. Others have also failed to eliminate Carinya…”

  KA3 huffed. “How so?”

  “KA9, tell him…”

  “Carinya knows they’re under threat, but seem ignorant of just how many want them dead,” KA9 said. “I met with the leader of WOO yesterday, and he says th--.”

  “WOO? What are they?” KA3 said.

  “White Only Oz. A group of white supremacists, more radical than we’ll ever be. Think Neo-Nazis with hair…Anyhow, one of them has been charged with Galios’ murder. They did us a favor there, and seem eager to do us another...”

  “Meaning?”

  “WOO’s been in Crooked River trying to get at the Carinya crew. They see Roberts as a mouthpiece for the Greens’ pro-immigration policies and fear they’ll gain support from minor parties as a result. While Carinya remains under the media spotlight, so does Galios’ multi-cultural message. He’s become a martyr…”

  KA3 scoffed. “Others want them gone, but I want it more.” He turned to KA1. “This is the last time we discuss Carinya at such a meeting, I assure you.”

  KA9 faced KA3. “Do Roberts and the others show caution?”

  KA3 nodded. “They barely leave the house, and in numbers when they do. And the female detective…Foster? She’s often with them, and I believe she can’t be harmed?”

  “Correct, Foster lives,” KA6 said.

  “Well, that limits your options of attack…” KA9 said to KA3. “Can see why you’re struggling...”

  “Never mind…” KA3’s forehead crinkled above the mask and deep lines spread over the visible corners of his face. “I know how to flush those cockroaches out of their hole. Come the ceremony on Saturday, we’ll have another reason to celebrate…Dead Carinya scum.”

  FORTY

  Porter opened the Carinya residence’s front door.

  Lyn Foster stood on the veranda in front of him. “Pizza?” She presented a plastic bag containing three pizza boxes.

  He smiled as the aroma of smoked pepperoni tickled his nose, and took the bag from her. “Good job. How’d you know?”

  “Fred told me during the week, that Saturday’s pizza day...”

  He turned and strolled down the hallway.

  She followed him. “You’re walking better. Ankle’s coming good?”

  He placed the pizzas on the kitchen table, then turned to her. “Yeah, bit of rest did the trick. Be running again tomorrow…”

  Klose rushed in from the office. “Smells good…” He smirked at Lyn. “Late lunch or early dinner?”

  “Well, dinner…But if you’re hungry, go for it.”

  “You know me, Lynny, always hungry…” Klose scrambled to sit at the table and ripped open a box. Lionel joined him a few seconds later.

  Lyn sat. “Hey, you two, leave some for us.”

  Porter flicked the jug on, then plucked the coffee jar from a shelf. “And leave some for Amber, she loves pizza…” He waited for the water to boil, and thought about the night before.

  Jane and Amber had arrived in Crooked River late Friday afternoon, and he’d introduced them to the Carinya team over dinner at the pub. Jane and Emma Rowe had chatted like long lost friends over a few bottles of red wine. Emma told Amber about her horses and invited them to join her and father Gary for a horse ride. Porter had pulled Jane aside and suggested it unwise for her and Amber to go, but she’d ignored his warning and accepted the invitation.

  Later, as Amber slept on a trundle bed in the corner, he and Jane had sipped Irish coffee by the open fire in his bedroom. She’d asked how he’d been feeling. He told her the truth…Better. She’d asked how he’d been sleeping. He’d lied, not wanting to burden her with his nightmares, and said he’d been sleeping well.

  She’d asked him about the wedding, and if he still wanted to go ahead with it. Her chocolate-brown eyes warmed his heart, the coffee’s whiskey warmed his soul, and her perfume warmed his loins. He kissed her without answering. Her eyes had sparkled in the firelight as she asked him if that was a yes. He’d kissed her again, afraid to answer, and led her to the bed.

  The jug boiled and Porter recoiled from the hot steam in his face. He made coffee for everyone, grabbed a folder from the office, and joined them at the table.

  Lyn turned to him, face crumpled in a frown. “Why didn’t you go riding with the girls?”

  “Wanted to, but Jane reckons my ankle’s not up to it. Danced a jig in the bathroom trying to prove her wrong, but she still said ‘nah, you’re not coming.’”

  Lionel swallowed pizza. “I fell asleep with a book after lunch and didn’t know they’d gone. You’re not worried, Dan? After what’s happened?”

  “Bloody oath I am, and tried talking her out of it all morning. Told me I was being silly, to stop letting crooks rule our lives and ruin our fun…She said they’ve got Emma, Gary, Patto and two shotguns for company. Reckons no-one will mess with ‘em.”

  “Hope she’s right…” Lyn said. “You obviously haven’t told her about your adventure on Bunyip Hill? I’m surprised you let them go…”

  “Wouldn’t be, if you knew Jane like I do.” Porter grinned, opened the folder and took a few pages from it. “They’ll be right, no worries…” He cringed, because he’d done it again. He’d tried to reassure others, despite his own doubts.

  Lyn pointed at the pages. “What you got there?”

  “Came via fax this morning, from the personnel section in Sydney. Lists of cops who worked Crooked River during the ‘60’s...” Porter handed a page to Lionel. “Exactly what we needed.”

  Lionel studied it. “Names and addresses...Have you been through the whole list already?”

  “Yeah…Nineteen still alive and kicking. Five live in Crooked River, the others are scattered throughout the state. Will send requests to relevant commands to interview them, ‘cos we don’t have time to travel about.”

  “Indeed…And next week we’ll start interviewing those residing here.”

  Porter checked his watch. 4.06pm. They’re late...

  “What time did the girls leave?” Lyn asked him, in physic mode.

  “Emma picked ‘em up…Ah, around two o’clock.”

  “When are they due back?”

  Worry sparked in Porter’s gut and ignited flames of panic. He opened his mouth to answer, then Lyn’s phone ringtone blared. Adele sang, ‘There’s a fire starting in my heart.’

  Lyn took her phone from the table and stood. “Sorry, I’ll take this over here...” She wandered into the office.

  A minute later she ran into the kitchen. “Dan!” Her shrill tone shocked Porter from his daydream. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  The flickering flames inside him became an inferno. “What?”

  “Just spoke to Grimes, a new detective who started this week…He’s at an accident scene on Crooked River Road, five k’s from here. Jane and Amber, the horses…”

  Porter shook her by the shoulders. “Spit it out. What’s happened?”

  “Jane and Gary are in ICU. Patto was knocked out, but is okay. Emma hit her head in the fall…”

  “Fall? How?”

  “Two cars drove into the horses. Those not killed got spooked, bolted for the river and threw their riders…”

  “Jane’s in intensive?” Porter struggled to speak. “How bad?”

  “Grimes only said that she’s got head injuries...”

  Porter staggered sideways. Lionel and Klose held him up. “Bloody hell…” His eyes ached as he yelled at the ceiling. “Shouldn’t have let my girls come here.” He stared at Lyn. “And Amber?”

  “She wasn’t at the accident scene. Current whereabouts unknown…”
/>
  “Fuck me, those sick KA bastards. Gotta get a search team together…”

  “Get to the hospital, bud,” Klose said. “Jane needs you.”

  Lionel punched Porter’s shoulder, as though to shock him into action. “Let’s go, I’ll drive.” He nudged him toward the front door.

  Porter held his ground. “Nah, wait…Gotta find Amber.”

  “We won’t get assistance from Barrett and co,” Klose said. “I’ll contact the boss at Broken Hill and request search teams, a tactical squad, and dogs. Will wait for them to arrive, then coordinate the search from here…We’ll find Amber, bud.”

  Lyn held Porter’s wrist. “I’ll head to the scene, check on Grimes’ investigation.”

  He grunted with gritted teeth. “Champions, the both of you…” He ran towards the front door and Lionel followed. He yelled over his shoulder. “Be back soon to help out…”

  Ten minutes later, Porter hurried into the hospital’s ICU room. He saw Jane, and gasped at the sight. Her head was bandaged, her face bruised and swollen, and a plastered arm hung across her chest. Emma sat next to her bed.

  He rushed to Jane, then sighed when she opened an eye and tried to smile. He held her as tight as her injuries allowed, and kissed her forehead. “Babe, I’m so, so sorry…Was crazy to leave you alone…”

  She sighed and closed her eye.

  He bent closer, his ear against her cheek. “Babe? Hear me?” He straightened with moist eyes, afraid to blink.

  He noticed blood-covered gauze above Emma’s eye. “You okay, sweet?”

  Emma stood. “Yep, just a few stitches…”

  “How about Gary, and Patto?”

  “Dad’s in the operating room for a broken nose, he’ll be fine. Patto was too stubborn to stay, said he needed to get back and take care of the pub…”