‘So, how does that work?’ said Mac. ‘The Mossad tells Dozsa to come in and debrief, and when he refuses, they decide to finish it?’
‘Who knows what you have to do to get a death sentence from the Mossad?’ said Scotty. ‘All I know is that Yossi’s no wimp but he was spooked by what happened.’
‘The killings?’
‘The Mossad hit team travelled as Australian forestry guys and they stayed at a b&b across the river from Stung Treng.’
‘Nice area.’
‘Yeah, and one evening the Mossad team gets back from surveying the forests, and the bathroom blows up.’
‘Fuck,’ said Mac, looking around.
‘Yeah, thought you’d like that, after your welcome at the Cambodiana.’
Mac controlled his shaky hand as he gulped at his beer. ‘Yossi saw all this?’
‘Yossi told me the surviving hit man staggers out into the yard, half his face torn off by the blast, and a pick-up truck arrives. Dozsa jumps out and pops this dazed bloke in the head. Two other Israelis clear the remaining body with a black vinyl bag, then they throw all the bodies in the back of the truck.’
‘Tidy guys.’
‘Yeah — then they torch the place.’ Scotty shook his head. ‘Whole thing is over in thirty seconds.’
Mac sagged in his chair. ‘I feel safer now, thanks, mate.’
‘By the way, guess who I saw coming out of the New World Hotel this arvo?’
‘No idea, champ,’ said Mac, wondering if he could fit in another beer.
‘Tall, dark…’
‘This twenty questions?’
‘Gorgeous sheila — fights like a bloke.’
‘Watch it,’ said Mac, realising who Scotty was talking about.
‘Look, Macca, I should have told you this earlier, I just forgot.’
‘Told me what?’
‘She saw me,’ said Scotty.
‘Oh, great.’
‘Yeah — and she talked to me.’
‘Fuck’s sake, Scotty.’
‘It gets worse — I think she knows you’re in town.’
‘How?’ said Mac.
‘I don’t know, mate. She asked me how you were going, and I said fine, and she starts talking about Auckland.’
‘Shit!’
‘Yeah, guess my face gave it away,’ said Scotty.
‘How did you leave it?’
‘You know Jen,’ said Scotty. ‘Smiling, but staring straight through me.’
Having arranged the meeting for the next morning with Charles, promising to get Luc on the team, Mac eased back on the sofa in the living area of his suite and watched CNN. The headline story was still the North Korean missiles and the Japanese and Chinese response to them. The Japanese military was constitutionally a self-defence shield and Mac noticed that no one from the Japanese government or military would comment on the missile tests. But CNN had found a Japanese academic who taught at UCLA, whose name and number had probably been slipped to the media by Japan’s intelligence agencies. She was smart, a good talker with fluent English and her arguments neatly fitted with those of the foreign policy hawks who circled Washington DC: ‘Last year’s tests of the so-called communications satellites by North Korea revealed no satellites were actually put into orbit,’ said the academic. ‘Pyongyang does not have a space program — they have a ballistic missile program with nuclear capability and using this program to intimidate Japan is not only provocative but probably illegal.’
The journalist asked if there was a new arms race in North Asia and the academic sidestepped that one. Mac sniggered: Japan had breeder reactors that could produce plutonium and its own ‘space program’ was essentially ICBMs in disguise.
The next story showed Captain Loan walking into the Cong An building and then file pictures of Jim Quirk and Geraldine McHugh flashed onto the screen. The reporter — standing outside the Cong An’s first precinct building in Saigon — said the Australian government was remaining tight-lipped about the circumstances of the murder/disappearance of this Canberra power couple, but that the minister for foreign affairs had warned the McHugh family against employing mercenaries who might interfere with the investigations.
Hitting the mute button, Mac looked at his watch: 7.08 pm.
Dialling Captain Loan’s number, Mac waited for the call to be answered.
‘Captain,’ he said. ‘Davis here — you still at work?’
‘Here till eight,’ said Loan.
‘Can I come down?’
‘Like I say,’ said Loan. ‘I finish at eight.’
The red sunset cast a pall on the white concrete and mirror glass of the Cong An building as Mac walked through the swing doors and asked for Captain Loan. Before he could sit in the waiting area, a young woman in Cong An greens arrived and asked him to follow her downstairs to the cells and interview rooms.
Questions, raised voices and answers echoed around the concrete bunker as Mac waited in a chair beside the administration desk. He smelled the muddy dampness and remembered how much of Saigon’s history included underground bunkers, tunnels and escape routes. It was a city that seemed as comfortable with its hidden aspects as it was with its official story.
A red light flashed above a door. The attendant walked to it and walked out twenty seconds later with Luc. They turned away from Mac to return to a cell but the pilot caught Mac’s eye and gave a smile as he was led down the corridor.
Deciding to have a nosey-poke, Mac stood and sauntered the fifteen paces to the door Luc had come out of. Peering through the small glass window he saw two figures up against the door, their faces framed like a picture.
Reeling to get out of there, Mac couldn’t make his feet move before the door swung open and the women moved towards him.
‘Mr Richard,’ said Captain Loan, her face a mask.
The other woman stepped through, pulling her clipboard to her chest and crossing her arms over it.
‘Captain Loan,’ said Mac, bowing slightly and trying to stay calm.
Turning to the other woman, Mac introduced himself as Richard Davis, from Southern Scholastic, and extended his hand.
‘Jenny Toohey,’ said his wife, taking forever to shake his hand. ‘Australian Federal Police.’
Loan chaperoned Jenny a couple of strides away from Mac, talking in a detective’s tone and swapping pieces of paper.
Saying her farewells, Jenny gave Mac a withering look and walked towards the stairwell, her dark ponytail swishing in a motion that translated to pure rage.
‘You wanted to talk?’ said Loan, breaking into Mac’s thoughts as she returned to him.
‘I thought about what you said.’
‘Which part?’ said Loan, arranging files in her clipboard.
‘The part where you’re prepared to overlook certain things if I help you find Tranh.’
‘I never make deals,’ said Loan, looking around for eavesdroppers. ‘It’s hard enough being a Loh Han and a police detective without pushing for an investigation into my brother’s disappearance.’
Mac nodded. ‘Why not release Luc?’
‘Because he’s our only link to the Quirk murders.’
‘He’s also cooperating,’ said Mac. ‘And he’s done nothing criminal, or he’d be arrested.’
Staring at Mac, Loan took her time responding. ‘You’re right — he was going to be released tomorrow.’
‘Push him out the front door at seven am, I’ll keep an eye on him.’
Loan frowned. ‘That woman? She’s AFP and she’s not stupid. If Luc goes missing, I have a big problem with your government and my government.’
‘He won’t go missing,’ said Mac.
‘He’d better not,’ said Loan.
‘No?’
‘No,’ said Loan with a smile. ‘’Less you want to sample the Cong An food.’