‘Listen, I’m going to have to go – we’ve got a briefing with the Minister in half an hour I’m supposed to be preparing for. Was there anything else you needed?’
‘Not at the moment. Look out for them in Singapore in a couple of days. I’ll phone you if I find out anything else.’
‘Okay, take care Mitch.’
The elevator car rose through the building. Dan cast his eyes sideways at the mirrored walls and noticed how tired they both looked. He could feel the adrenaline through his veins, keeping him fired up in spite of the exhaustion. He smiled to himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so energised, so focused. As the elevator ground to a halt, Sarah brought out her swipe card and waved it at him.
‘Nightcap at mine?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He grinned. ‘If your expense account can afford the mini-bar prices here, then you can definitely count me in.’
He followed her down the hallway and waited while she unlocked the door to her room.
She flicked on the light and dumped her bag next to the television. ‘I’m too excited to sleep anyway,’ she explained. ‘I feel like we’re finally getting somewhere at last. Get yourself a drink – I want to change out of this dress.’ She closed the bathroom door behind her.
Dan walked over to the refrigerator and turned back, holding two beers. Twisting the lids off, he handed one of them to Sarah as she emerged from the bathroom dressed in jeans and t-shirt. They clinked their beer bottles together and grinned at each other.
Sarah turned and picked up her bag. Pulling out her mobile phone, she reached over and picked up her laptop. ‘Might as well take a closer look at those documents I photographed,’ she said. She sat down on the bed and switched on the laptop.
Dan slumped on the small two-seater sofa, his legs hanging over the end. He swung them lazily while he sipped his beer and held up the manifest to the light to read it again.
Sarah took a swig from her bottle of beer, waiting for the laptop to finish its start-up routine. She reached behind her and pushed the pillow further up her back. Curling her legs under her, she sat back and sighed as she flipped through the pictures as they downloaded from her phone. ‘I took some pictures of some invoices,’ she explained. ‘It looks like they’re for small amounts of chemicals. Will that help?’
Dan looked up briefly from the manifest, and then continued reading. ‘I’m not sure – Harry reckons you’d need a ton of equipment to manufacture it – I think we’re missing something on that one.’
Sarah continued to flick through the images they’d downloaded, carefully looking at each one as it appeared on the screen. ‘I might have something here. Letters to government ministers. Here and back in the UK. Looks like Delaney’s been a bit busy lobbying them to support mining industries rather than the environmentalists. I wonder if he…’
They both jumped as the phone on the small desk began to ring.
Dan looked at Sarah. ‘Did you give anyone this number?’
She shook her head. ‘Should we answer it?’
Dan walked over to the phone, his hand hovering above it. He turned to Sarah. ‘You answer it.’
He stepped away, waving her over to the phone. ‘Quickly.’
Sarah stumbled across the room. ‘Why me?’
‘Because you’re a known entity with friends in this city – I’m not. Whoever is phoning might not know about my existence yet – I’d like to keep it that way as long as possible.’
Sarah nodded. ‘Okay – pass me that notepad and a pen would you? If this is anything important, I don’t want to forget anything.’
She picked up the receiver. ‘H-hello?’
A chuckle permeated the line. ‘Well, well. You are there after all. For a minute there, I thought you were going to ignore me.’
Sarah clutched the receiver. ‘Who is this?’
‘You’re not much of a journalist if you can’t work that out for yourself.’
Sarah heard a sigh, as if the caller was sitting himself down for a long chat.
He then continued. ‘Now, I’m only going to say this once because you’re an intelligent woman and will probably take good advice when it’s given.’
‘Save the flattery,’ Sarah interrupted. ‘What the hell do you want?’
Again, the chuckle. ‘Okay, if you won’t be civil, then I’ll get to the point.’
‘At last,’ said Sarah.
‘What are you doing next Wednesday?’ The caller paused, waiting for a response.
‘Next Wednesday? Why? What’s happening next Wednesday?’ asked Sarah, snatching the notepad and pen Dan waved at her.
‘I presume, as a journalist, you’re writing all this down?’ asked the caller.
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I hate repeating myself.’
‘Go on,’ urged Sarah.
‘Write this down – two o’clock, next Wednesday. Place called ‘Pinaroo’ on Albany Creek Road.’
Sarah did as she was told.
‘What’s there?’ she asked, as she held up the notepad for Dan to read. He shook his head, not knowing the answer.
‘It’s a crematorium,’ said the caller. ‘You wouldn’t want to be late for Hayley’s funeral, would you?’
The phone went dead as Sarah dropped the receiver, covering her mouth with her hands.
‘What is it? What did he say?’ urged Dan, grabbing hold of Sarah and turning her towards him.
She shook her head in response, unable to answer. She shrugged off his grip from her shoulders and ran to the bathroom. He began to follow her, and then stopped as the sound of her vomiting reached him. He spun round in the room, running his hand through his hair, feeling utterly helpless and unsure what to do. What the hell had just happened?
He waited until the noises from the bathroom ceased, then took one of the water glasses from the small kitchenette and filled it with cold water. Walking through to the bathroom, he tentatively opened the door.
‘Hello?’
The door opened, the smell of vomit reeking through the small room. He ignored it, instead taking in the figure hunched over on the downturned toilet seat, her head in her hands.
‘Sarah?’