"Oh, good," said Melodie. She leaned forward to say confidentially, "Lexus thinks Bruce comes from a rich family. I think that's why she's so interested in him. She'll be so disappointed."
Melodie trotted cheerfully back to her car and I went inside, musing over what to wear to meet the nameless national security bloke. Julia Roberts was waiting for me at the front door.
"Jules," I said, "you've got good taste. What do you recommend I wear to meet a high official in Homeland Security? Do you think something really dressy?"
Julia Roberts slanted her ears quizzically. "You're absolutely right," I said, "plain and simple is better for these government types."
I changed into black jeans and a green silk shirt and made myself a cup of tea. In case this meeting took some time, I served Julia Roberts her dinner early.
Around six-fifteen there was a commotion outside. I put my head out the front door. The place was crawling with limousines and people in dark suits. "Stone the crows," I said to Jules, who'd been attracted by the noise, "it's like the president's arriving."
The top honcho of the DHS turned out to be a disappointment. I was expecting someone commanding, with a military bearing, eagle eyes surveying the lay of the land, and all that stuff, but he was an insignificant man with a soft face and the hint of a pot belly. Accompanying him were Morgan and Unwin. "G'day," I said to them. "Ripper to see you again, even if you are a bit early."
"Keeps people off balance," whispered Unwin in his slippery voice. There wasn't a hint of humor in his long, grayish face. He looked slight beside Morgan's thick-necked wrestler's build.
To be polite, I said, "G'day," to the top honcho, too. "I'm Kylie Kendall."
"I'm afraid I can't tell you my name or title for national security reasons." He had a bossy manner and a slight lisp.
"Right-oh," I said.
Ariana and Bob arrived as I was ushering the three of them into the reception area. Bob was cheery, Ariana distant. Morgan and Unwin went along to check Ariana's office for dangerous devices while the rest of us waited by Melodie's desk. The head bloke stood silent, gazing at nothing in particular, so Ariana, Bob, and I were silent too, although I caught Bob's eye and grinned. He gave me a warning, don't-cause-waves look in return.
Morgan and Unwin came back with the all clear, so we trooped down the hall to Ariana's stark black-and-white room.
Once Ariana, Bob, and I were seated and Morgan had taken position guarding the door and Unwin the window, the head honcho began to walk up and down, looking self-important. "Many have been the representations made on your behalf," he announced, "and these have persuaded us that you are not, and never have been a terrorist organization."
He paused for reactions of joy or relief. Ariana said coolly, "We would appreciate some explanation for this baseless accusation."
"Indeed." He cleared his throat and continued officiously, "We regret that analysts in the Department unfortunately mistook the admirable diligence of one of your employees in the realm of disaster preparation as an indication of possible terrorist activities. We acknowledge that this person is, in actuality, a deeply concerned citizen."
"How about these two clowns here trying to bug our building?" Bob asked.
Everyone looked at the two clowns. Morgan ran a hand over the red stubble on his skull, Unwin stared morosely at the floor.
Irritation washed over the head bloke's face. "We also apologize for the attempt to plant listening devices in your premises. Again, this was a misguided but genuine effort to ensure the safety of our great nation. I assure you that this will not occur again."
He paused, then added, "Unless, of course, a terrorist should enter your employ in the future."
"Well, that's likely," I said.
Another pause. I had an almost irresistible desire to giggle, but a warning glance from Bob calmed me down.
Then the bloke was off again. "Another matter of extreme importance has come to our attention. Connecting the requisite dots convinces us that there is a deep-seated conspiracy with Norris Blainey at the centre. Unaccountably, Mr. Blainey has been a trusted informant to DHS"-he glared meaningfully at Morgan and Unwin-"while carrying out activities that are little short of traitorous."
"Money-laundering?" I said.
"What made you think of that?" he asked, his doughy face darkening with suspicion.
Hell's bells! I said hastily, "It's what Blainey accused other people of, so I reckon he was doing it himself."
He gave me a long, thoughtful look. "Miss Kendall, you've had several interesting telephone conversations with one of Blainey's associates, Douglas O'Rourke, an Australian national also known as Dingo O'Rourke."
"You listened in on my cell phone," I said, indignant. Then it occurred to me DHS would have recorded the calls, so they'd have Dingo telling me how Blainey asked him to carry out a murder-for-hire.
The same thing had occurred to Ariana. She pointed out how we needed the police to hear Dingo's conversation with me in order to clear Quip's name.
"Quite so. Arrangements can be made. In return we expect your cooperation."
"What type of cooperation?" Ariana asked.
"We are anxious to interview Mr. O'Rourke; however, so far he has proved elusive." He checked his watch. "If he's on schedule he'll be calling Miss Kendall shortly. When he does, you are to arrange to meet with him this evening."
Indicating Morgan and Unwin, he added, "You will be perfectly safe. These highly-trained operatives will shadow you and apprehend Mr. O'Rourke as soon as contact is made."
Highly-trained? Crikey!
It was quite unnerving the way everyone sat around and watched me answer my cell phone. Dingo's voice was urgent. "Kylie? Darken isn't herself."
"What's wrong with her?"
"I'm not sure, but she's off her tucker. Maybe she's fretting for her kennel mates…"
"That could be it."
"Or maybe she's sick. And I can't take her to a vet for treatment, not with a big reward on offer and our pictures everywhere. Darken knows you, Kylie. You'll have to come with the Creeling woman and take Darken back with you tonight for treatment."
"About Ariana Creeling, she's not available. She said to tell you she'd send Bob Verritt in her place. Bob is-"
"No way, Kylie! I don't care who he is, I've never heard of him. You come by yourself, then."
He asked for a description of my car and its number plate, then he reeled off directions, which I dutifully copied down. "OK," he said, "you pick me up in one hour. That should give you plenty of time. Just you, alone. And make sure you aren't followed."
I glanced over at Morgan and Unwin. I didn't have a lot of confidence in them, but the task of simply following my car, when there was no need to worry about me seeing them, wouldn't be so difficult, would it?
Twenty-Two
"Be careful," said Ariana, touching me lightly on the arm.
"Piece of cake," I said. "Dingo would never hurt me."
She flicked a glance to the other side of our parking area, where Morgan and Unwin were getting into a brown Buick sedan. "It's those two I'm worried about. Make sure you get right out of the way when they arrest Dingo."
Bob came over to us shaking his head. "They've got that vehicle packed with every bit of surveillance equipment you could imagine, but I'm not sure those guys know how to use most of it."
He clapped me on the shoulder and grinned. "Not to worry, Kylie, they've put a global positioning device on your car, so even if they lose sight of you, they'll find you again."
There'd been some debate about whether DHS would simply wait for Dingo at the rendezvous point and arrest him there, but it had been decided to let me pick him up and drive to wherever he was keeping Darken, so that she could be taken immediately to a veterinary hospital.