by Jay Darby
“History’s shrouded in grey, it’s not always as black and white as you make it sound…” He sighed, then pulled a phone from a breast pocket.
Porter watched him push a button and wait with the phone against his ear. His pulse quickened. What was he up to? He sensed he wouldn’t be leaving Canberra any time soon, and hoped Lyn Foster would act as instructed. He hoped she’d forward the Cumal files to the media before federal agents could reach her and destroy them.
Porter kept one eye on his briefcase, the other on Tate. “Do we have an agreement? Or are you willing to risk Australia’s place in the world, to protect your own?”
A muffled male voice sounded from Tate’s cell phone.
He placed a hand over it, then replied to Porter. “The shocking nature of your allegations has clouded my better judgement…I’m unsure of my earlier decisions, made in haste, and need time to think…” He took his hand away and spoke into the phone. “Inside. Now.”
Seconds later the office door flew open. Two thick-set men in suits burst into the room. They drew pistols and ran to stand behind the desk, either side of Tate.
Tate snarled. “You really think I’m the only sitting Prime Minister to be told of government-backed slavery in the 1960s? How naïve…” He eyed him with contempt. “Tell me, why would I, half a century later, be the first to act?”
Porter shrugged.
“It would be much easier for me, my colleagues, and the nation’s conscience, if you just, disappeared…Our guilty secrets, and our shame, would simply disappear with you.”
Porter swiveled and searched for an exit. He stood.
Two more agents ran into the room and blocked the doorway. Same suits, same buzzcuts, same ‘don’t fuck with me’ snarls.
Porter sat. “Your call…But it’s the wrong one.”
Tate stood and pushed his chest out. “Gentlemen, take good care of him.”
The four agents rushed to Porter and pinned him to the chair.
Prime Minister Tate took Porters’ briefcase from the desk. He looked down at him, his expression cold but calm. “Am I the enemy you speak of? Or am I merely showing you who’s in charge? Either way, you’ll find out soon enough...”
Porter stared after him. “You’re making a mistake….”
Tate stopped in the doorway, turned and raised the briefcase. He grinned like a junkie who’d stolen a doctor’s prescription pad. “Thanks for the chat, Porter. It’s been…Enlightening.”
FIFTY SEVEN
Porter smiled, because he’d finally reached a decision and knew what he had to do. He sipped chilled beer in celebration and let its’ sweet malt flavor slide down his throat. He sighed, sunk deeper on the wicker lounger, and gazed at the scene in front of him.
Amber chatted with lifeguards near the shoreline, her hair flowing in the breeze. Kids played in white sand and laughed as they destroyed castles. Couples linked at elbows strolled through crystal-clear tidal pools. And on the turquoise ocean beyond them, surfers danced with rolling waves.
He reclined the lounger, so palm trees shaded him from the midday sun, then took a deep breath of tropical air. A hectic fortnight had passed since his initial meeting with Prime Minister Tate in Canberra, and with much work still to do, he’d been reluctant to take a week off. But Jane had insisted, and he was grateful. The Whitsunday Islands were heaven on Earth, and his beautiful angel sat beside him.
A newspaper rustled in Jane’s hands. “I can’t believe what I’m reading here, babe.”
He sipped beer and closed his eyes, lulled by the sound of waves breaking on the shore.
“Dan?” She flicked his bare shoulder. “Hear what I said? Today’s paper, it’s unbelievable...”
He shook his eyes open and turned to study her. Her full lips glistened, covered in balm. Designer sunglasses, hair in a playful ponytail. Her yellow bikini accentuated smooth, dark-mocha skin. She had the ‘look,’ minus the ‘bitch,’ with a heart bigger than Pharlap’s. “What’s so, unbelievable?”
“Here on da front page, it says they’re changing da whole government. Endemic corruption at all levels…Over forty politicians removed from office, federal and state, with more arrests to come…” After a few seconds, she gasped. “And your police minister’s one of them…”
“I'm not surprised Moorecroft’s involved, always reckoned the bloke was more crooked than Sepp Blatter. They name any others?”
“Da new immigration guy, Jenkins. Da list is long.”
“Sounds like a shakedown was well overdue…”
“It’s incredible…And how does Tate remain as Prime Minister? He must’ve been aware of this level of corruption...I mean, what da?”
“Who knows…?”
She tut-tutted. “It says here that Tate’s shocked and angered…He said da evidence presented by investigators gave him and da Governor-General no choice but to act as they did.” She paused. “Then he mentions changes to national human rights legislation…Increases to Aboriginal health funding...” She turned to him. “Lionel would be happy…Did Carinya have anything to do with these arrests?”
He smirked. “A little…Crime Commission blokes and ASIO made most of ‘em… But, we did have a big say in getting the changes to legislation that Lionel wanted...And Tate’s sudden interest in constitutional recognition, that came from us.”
“Well done, babe. Who is it, that always says da little guys can’t make a difference?”
“I’m glad to be wrong…”
She turned a page. After a minute she said, “Ah, I was wondering why Interpol wasn’t involved, it’s da next big story in here…” She read for a minute, then spun in the lounger to face him. “You didn’t think I’d wanna know?”
He frowned. “About what?”
“About da corrupt Interpol guys…And girls kidnapped from Sydney being found all over da place. Da low-life scum…Are they da ones who took Amber?”
“Nah, I don’t reckon…”
She removed the sunglasses, her brown eyes darted over his face. “Then who?”
He gazed at the ocean, and hoped to disguise the lie he would tell to protect her from the truth. “I’ve no idea, babe…Amber still can’t remember anything, and all other lines of investigation came to nothing. Don’t reckon we’ll ever know…”
She watched him for a few seconds, then put the sunglasses on and returned her attention to the paper. “Interpol’s High Commissioner’s been thrown in jail…”
“Yeah, and many others who worked with ‘em. Their Sydney boss got shafted, and Steve Williams has been seconded as the interim one. He’s setting up a squad to target the mongrels running the child slavery syndicates, and wants me to join it. Lyn Foster’s already started there…”
She dropped the open paper onto her chest. “You have to take that job… Protecting kids is your passion.”
“I’ve told Steve I’ll go. I've only just now decided for sure, and still wary of working at Interpol after all the pain they’ve caused. But Steve’s convinced me that the corrupt bastards have all been weeded out…I’ll be away from home weeks at a time, babe. You gunna be okay with that?”
She caressed his forearm. “Yes, Amber and I will be fine…The New South Wales force has never appreciated you. Take da job, babe, be happier at work.”
He put the beer down, asked her to make room, then moved to her recliner.
She pushed sunglasses onto the top of her head, then nestled her chin against his chest.
He glanced down at her. “The really good news…We still have two days left here together.”
“Hmm…” She combed fingers through his chest hair. “I’m proud of you, babe. And Lionel would be too, with da new legislation.”
In Porter’s mind, Lionel gave him a thumbs-up sign. He smiled. “Yeah, reckon so…But, he’d have done more, just by being around. And nothing’s certain until the new government passes that legislation. I’ve gotta make sure they do…”
She prodded him. “That reminds me, of da lady
I met at Lionel’s memorial service last week. Rosie? Amazing, how she could only help Lionel from a distance and began a whole new life to protect her son…” Her eyebrows arched. “Makes you wonder, how do people keep such secrets?”
He hesitated, aware she referred to him. “Who knows? But Rosie’s was an important one, very well kept.”
“Speaking of which…” She rolled onto her stomach to face him. “You’re supposed to tell me your big secret, before we get married…”
He laughed it off and hoped she’d laugh too.
She scowled. “I’m serious, Dan, we won’t be like other couples. No secrets...” Her eyes pleaded with him.
His chest burned, he swallowed to douse flames. The time had come, Jane deserved the truth. “Alright. Here’s the first…”
Her nose scrunched. “There’s more than one?”
“I’ve told you I was army before joining the cops, right?”
She sat up, legs crossed. “You were a soldier at eighteen…You never said much else.”
He straightened against the backrest. “At the end of 2001, I was in the SAS, in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Our platoon leader was a kid straight out of Duntroon academy, raw as hell...We were on patrol one night, he led us into an ambush, and he panicked during the firefight…” He forced saliva into his dry mouth and swallowed it. “He ran straight into my line of fire…I killed him.”
She stared and said nothing.
He took his phone out and opened a photo, then handed her the phone.
She squinted. “It’s blurry. A photo of a photo?”
“Yeah, it’s of a picture I found in Bill Thompson’s house.”
She pointed to the screen. “Was he your platoon leader? This young guy in uniform?”
“Yeah, the bloke I shot. Lieutenant Simon Dawes.”
“And who’s da short, older guy with him? Actually, he looks kinda familiar...”
“His face has been in the news lately…The photo was taken at Dawes’ graduation from Duntroon. The short bloke with him, is Charles McKinlay.”
“As in, da judge who died in that helicopter crash?”
He sucked a breath. “Yeah…Turns out he’s Dawes’ old man. I had no idea, ‘cos Dawes always used his mum’s maiden name.”
“I don’t understand...Why was this picture in Bill Thompson’s house?”
“Won’t tell you too much, for your own sake. But McKinlay and Bill Thompson were best mates, and they’d led an international sex slave syndicate since the '60s.”
“Oh, my god. That’s…That’s insane.”
“You're not wrong…When I saw this photo and realized McKinlay was Dawes’ father, other things I’d stewed over for ages started to make sense.”
“Like?”
“That McKinlay blamed me for Simon’s death and was motivated by revenge from the start. I finally asked Steve Williams some questions I’d been avoiding.”
“And?”
“It’s no coincidence I ended up in Crooked River. Moorecroft, not Delaney, ordered my secondment to Carinya. He'd acted on McKinlay’s request.”
“Amazing…”
“When McKinlay had no choice but to approve Carinya, he used the abducted girls to get at me, as bait to lure me in...I’d assumed they wanted to lay blame on the whole Force, but nah, he targeted me personally and wanted the guilt on my conscience. For Nadia, and all the other girls. And Simon…”
She leaned towards him. “But hey, he’s da one who’s dead, in disgrace... He didn’t win, babe. You did.”
“Ah, it wasn’t about winning…” he lied. “But I reckon you’re spot on, ‘cos all the bastards linked to their syndicate are either dead or will rot in the slammer…Their organization’s been dismantled, shut down for good…”
“Thanks to you and Lionel…”
He gave her a tight smile.
She held his hand. “Listen, babe, that shooting in Afghanistan wasn’t your fault.”
“And the military inquest ruled that way…It hasn’t stopped me from blaming myself though...”
“But you can’t…”
“Easy to say, babe, much harder to do...”
She kissed his cheek. “I wish you’d told me earlier.”
“I'd only told Steve up till now…When the guilt got too much, I quit the army and lost it big time. Drank a heap, got into fights. Every night I saw myself shooting Dawes. I was a physical wreck…Went to see a private psych, I didn’t trust army doctors…”
She gulped. “What did they say?”
He looked into the sky, hairs on his neck bristled. Skin on his hollow chest tingled. He opened his mouth to speak, then stopped himself. He wasn’t ready. “That’s something I’ll tell you soon, before the wedding.”
She frowned. “Yes, and you have three months. Or like I said before, there won’t be a wedding. I won’t live in a relationship with secrets…Okay?”
He nodded.
“Please, babe, don’t blame yourself for da Force’s fuckups,” she said. “Be proud of helping all da girls you have, of da lives you’ve saved…”
“It aint easy, when you’re part of the system that failed them…But Carinya gave me hope, and anger drove me on. I had to arrest those mongrels abducting the girls…Had to find Amber…Had to hunt the bastards that hurt you…Had to get justice for Lionel, and Rosie Davis. I had to…”
“Redemption…" She nodded. "As our pastor in London used to say, it’s been da savior of many great men.”
“I’m hardly a great man, and not sure if redemption’s the right word…But am I feeling less guilty? Yeah…”
“Well, I think you’re great.”
He kissed her bottom lip and said nothing.
She flashed her gorgeous smile. “You excited, babe? About your new career starting soon..."
“Yeah, and Steve’s not wasting any time. We get back to Sydney on Saturday, then Sunday I fly out on my first job.”
“Fantastic…Where to?”
“He hasn’t said too much, but I’ve got a fair idea...He sent me a crash course in basic Thai yesterday.”
“Ooh, my cunning linguist is off to Thailand…Need practice?” She giggled. “Been studying?”
“A bit…” He grinned,then attempted a Thai accent. “Pom Rak Koon,” he said, the words stilted. “Samuur...”
Her eye’s sparkled while she frowned. “Did you just call me a racoon?”
“Nah…” Porter held her angelic face in two hands. “I very terribly tried to say…I love you, Jane. Always...”
I hope you enjoyed BIG WHITE LIES.
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Thanks for reading, and may the world be your oyster,
Jay