The driver of the sedan pulled over into a small parking area a few metres along the road and switched off his headlights.
Opening the door, Charles got out and slipped on his jacket. He casually shrugged it over his shoulders and fastened the two buttons down the front. Looking both ways, he checked there was no other traffic coming and switched on a small high-beam torch. He slipped on a pair of gloves, then pulled plastic bags over his shoes and walked over to the barrier. Telltale skid marks showed where Hayley’s car had left the road. Burning rubber from her car tyres filled the air, permeating the sticky-sweet scent of the eucalypts.
Charles stepped over the skid marks and churned up grass verge, being careful not to leave tread marks from his shoes. The plastic bags would only serve to disguise the tread a little. Leaning over the edge of the ravine, he shone the torch down to where the car was lying upside down, the bonnet crumpled against a tree and the side panels dented and scraped apart by its uncontrolled descent. Glass glinted on the ground around the vehicle, while various parts lay strewn down the ravine, showing the car’s progress as it rolled.
Charles caught the sound of movement from the vehicle below and strained his ears. It was Hayley, calling for help. He held the torch up as a hand appeared, waving desperately out of the driver’s window.
Charles placed the small torch between his teeth, holding it while he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a cigarette lighter and methodically flicked it to life. He held up the flame to his face, mesmerised by the heat and colour. Calmly lowering the lighter, he took the torch from between his teeth and held the beam steady while he tossed the lighter towards Hayley’s upturned vehicle, aiming it at the fuel dripping from the rear of the wreckage.
The car lifted off the ground with the force of the explosion before rocking to a halt at the base of the tree, flames beginning to lick at the undergrowth and surrounding bushes.
Charles stood and watched the flames as they engulfed the car. Hayley’s screams penetrated the night air. He smiled as they gradually died away. Swinging the torch beam across the grass verge at his feet, he scuffed the faint tread marks from his shoes into the mud, obliterating any chance of a forensic team finding a trace of his existence. Switching off the torch, he hurried back to the car and started the engine, coaxing the vehicle back down the mountain.
By the time he reached the outer suburbs of Brisbane, two fire engines had raced past his car, heading up to the scene of the accident.
Chapter 23
The caller dialled a sixteen digit number then put the mobile to his ear and heard the tell-tale ring tone of a foreign exchange.
He walked briskly through the park as he waited for the call to be answered. He looked up as a fruit bat swooped low over his head then watched as it flew, screeching, into the trees. The lights from the city shone through the trees in places near the boundary of the gardens. He walked deeper into the park, away from the light and disappeared into the shadows near the river, following a concrete bike track which swept around the park and past the university campus.
As he walked, he turned his head and looked around to check if he’d been followed. Finally, the phone connected.
‘Philippa Price.’
‘Pip, it’s me,’ the caller said. ‘Is this line secure?’
‘It is.’
‘We’ve got company.’
Silence at the other end.
The caller waited for Philippa to speak and began to pace along the pathway circling the gardens. He stopped and stepped off the path as a lone cyclist pedalled past him. Looking back to check his progress, the caller continued to walk.
Eventually, Philippa spoke. ‘How much does she know?’
‘Not she, they,’ corrected the caller. ‘And they’re making good progress.’
‘Who’s helping her?’
The caller chuckled. ‘Tell David it’s an old friend of his. He’ll work it out if you can’t.’ He smiled to himself, knowing Philippa would make sure she found out before telling their boss.
The caller could hear Philippa’s breathing over the line. Calm, calculating. ‘Does she have the lecture notes?’
‘Yes. And photos. And stuff her ex-husband didn’t want the public eye to see. It’s explosive stuff, Pip. I wouldn’t want to see her publishing any of it.’
‘What are their plans?’
‘Right now, they’ve located a shipping container which left Brisbane for Singapore. I reckon they’ll be on a plane there within the next couple of days to try to find out what’s in it.’
‘A shipping container?’
‘Uh-huh. Do you think that’s what Delaney’s using?’
Silence. Then, ‘Maybe. Can you find out anything to confirm that?’
‘I can try.’
‘Will you follow them to Singapore?’
‘Not unless David says so. It might make them suspicious.’
‘True.’ Silence again.
The caller stopped, glanced around him, then sat on a park bench. His eyes ached. He rubbed them with his free hand and yawned. He slouched, trying to get comfortable against the rough surface of the seat. ‘How much closer are you getting?’
He could hear a sigh at the end of the phone line before Philippa spoke. ‘It feels like we’re getting nowhere fast. At the moment, I’m going through mergers and acquisitions to find out what gold mine interests Delaney has. We can’t find out what he’s really up to though. We think it’s something to do with when the white gold powder is turned back into metallic gold – some sort of atomic reaction.’
‘Like a dirty bomb?’
‘Yeah, something like that. David’s trying to get information from the other agencies here but of course, chances are they’re playing around with the stuff themselves so they’re not exactly being helpful at the moment.’
‘I’ll bet.’