Read The Son Online

Authors: Marc Santailler

Tags: #Fiction - Thriller, #Fiction - War, #Fiction - History

The Son (19 page)

‘Maybe it was before my time,' I said. ‘If you can find out the dates from Immigration, and where he was processed – why don't you ask Svensson?' Svensson had been my predecessor in that job, a pallid Swede who burnt to a painful red in the sun. ‘He might remember, if he's still around.'

‘He's retired. But it's a thought.'

‘Or the Yanks. Have you tried tracing him with them?'

Bentinck was uneasy at discussing these things on an open line, but I persisted. ‘There should be something in archives. If you can trace others from that boat, maybe you can find someone who knew him in Vietnam.'

‘Leave it with me. By the way, the reason I rang. Your lady friend's visa: done. All she has to do is present her passport to Immigration in Sydney, and quote this reference–' he gave me a number. ‘They'll extend the visa on the spot. Another three months.'

‘Thanks. I really appreciate that.' Knowing it was probably too late. I couldn't even ring Hao to tell her.

Then, on the Friday morning, things began to happen.

The first was a phone call from Eric, in mid-morning, as I sat in my office worrying about him. He'd returned the night before, and was ringing from a phone booth near Cabramatta station. He sounded aggrieved.

‘What happened with my aunt?' he asked. ‘Why has she gone back to Marrickville?'

‘It's a long story.' I didn't feel like telling it. ‘I think she needed a break.'

‘She doesn't sound very happy. I just talked to her on the phone. I wanted to come and see you but now it's too late, I have to work in the restaurant over lunch.'

‘It's probably safer this way. Tell me about the farm.'

Only three of them had gone up, he said: Lam and himself and another one called Nghia. Plus Vo Khanh and Binh from Mr Bach's office. The others had pulled out.

‘Paul, they're planning to kill Loc.'

‘What? How?'

‘They didn't say. But we did a lot of training yesterday, with guns. Pistols and things.'

He gave me some details. They'd gone up on the Wednesday afternoon, as planned, and spent that evening in discussion, and the next day they had trained for several hours on a small firing range at the back of the farm, under Vo Khanh's supervision, with a variety of weapons: pistols and revolvers and sporting rifles, including an old army .303 Lee-Enfield, cut down and remodelled as a hunting rifle. A bolt action mechanism, I remembered from my own small arms training with the Agency, with a five-round magazine – slower than an automatic weapon but much more accurate, an ideal sniper's weapon in the right hands. That sounded more serious than anything else. They even had a scope to go with it.

‘I got top score on that,' he said with a youngster's pride.

‘Did they say who's going to do it?'

‘No, but they asked for volunteers.'

‘And?'

‘I offered to do it. So did Lam. Nghia piked out.'

It took a second for that to sink in.

‘What do you mean, you offered to do it!' I cried. ‘Do you realise what you're saying?'

‘Of course I do! I had to, Paul! That's what we were there for! Besides, that's what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted me to find out what they're up to and I did! I don't want to kill the guy. But if I hadn't offered they'd pick someone else and we'd never find out. This way we can try and stop them.'

‘But this is highly dangerous! Have you any idea what that involves? I think your aunt was right. It's time we went to the police.'

‘No, not yet! Let me find out some more first. Come on, Paul, you asked for my help, remember? This is our chance. You said you knew some people.'

‘Have you told your aunt any of this?'

‘Are you daft? She'd rip my head off! No, I just said we'd done more training, preparation for the demos against Loc's visit. She didn't ask any more.'

That wouldn't stop her thinking. I did some quick thinking myself.

‘We need to talk about this. Can you take time off this weekend? Without alerting your friends?'

‘I can take Sunday off. I have to work tomorrow. I'll tell them my aunt's going back to Britain and she wants me to spend the day with her.'

‘Has she decided to go back?' The thought hit me like a cold shower.

‘She was talking about it. She said she has to go into town on Monday to make her booking. What happened, Paul? I thought you two were getting on together.'

So did I, I thought. But I'd obviously got it wrong.

‘Listen. I need to make a phone call. Can you ring me back in half an hour? And find out what time the trains run on Sunday. See if there's one that can get you to Marrickville by seven thirty. Even earlier if possible.'

‘Why so early?'

‘We may have to go out of town.'

I hung up, and rang Roger's office in Canberra. He was at a meeting, but I said it was urgent and a moment later he came on the line. I gave him the gist of what Eric had told me.

‘Right. I can come up–'

‘No. I've got a better idea. I'm bringing him down on Sunday. I want you to meet him, and I want him to meet you. It wouldn't hurt to have the others there as well, Keith and Sam. This boy's about to lay his life on the line, and he needs to know who he's doing it for.'

‘You can't do this!'

‘It's the only way, Roger! This isn't some juvenile delinquent looking for kicks! This is David's son, he's clever and tough and very committed, and he's taken on a pretty tricky job. If you can't do that for him we might as well go to the police and let them handle it. They might just have enough to make charges stick.'

He thought about it for a moment.

‘I'll have to discuss it with Bill.'

‘Of course. But it's non-negotiable, Roger.'

He sighed. I knew how much they hated to lose the initiative.

‘Alright! Come down early. I'll arrange something and ring you back. But for Christ's sake don't say anything to him until I've met him!'

I rang off before he could make any other objections.

Twenty minutes later Eric rang back. There was a train, he said, which got to Marrickville just before seven thirty.

‘Where are we going?'

‘To Canberra. To meet the people I was telling you about.'

‘Really? That's cool!'

‘But first we need to take some precautions. Here's what I want you to do.' I gave him instructions, made sure he understood them. ‘And you'd better ring your aunt too while you're at it.'

‘But this is just between us, Paul, the way you said!'

‘Yes, but she'll have to know where you'll be on Sunday. Otherwise she might try to ring you in Cabramatta, when you're supposed to be with her.'

‘Can't you ring her? If I talk to her she'll only ask more questions. She'll listen to you.'

He had a point.

‘Alright,' I said. ‘I'll call her. But if anything happens and you can't make it you'll have to call her yourself. And you'd better dress up a little too. It wouldn't hurt if you could look neat for a change.'

‘I know how to dress! You're beginning to sound like my aunt!'

‘I could do worse. See you Sunday, bright and early.'

I didn't ring Hao straightaway. I was too upset by what Eric had told me. The plot to kill Loc was alarming enough, but the news that she had finally decided to go back had thrown me into a deep depression. What particularly hurt was that she hadn't rung to tell me herself. Did I matter so little to her?

But Eric was right, I had to call her, even if he'd only said that to get us talking again. I waited until mid-afternoon, then swallowed my pride and rang the cousins' house. She wasn't there and I left a message. When she hadn't rung back by six I phoned again and asked if she could call me at home before seven. When she finally called, at seven thirty, I was about to go out and I had given up hope of hearing from her that day.

‘Paul? I've just got your message, I've been in the shop all afternoon. Are you alright?'

‘Yes,' I said, and tried to sound as if I was. ‘And thanks for ringing back. I'm sorry to bother you like this. But something's come up.'

I told her briefly about Eric's call, and our planned trip to Canberra, leaving out the more sensational aspects.

‘Would you mind pretending that he's spending the day with you, if anybody asks? We don't want his friends to find out where he'll be, obviously.'

‘Of course. Is he alright? He sounded very mysterious on the phone this morning.'

‘Yes, he's fine too. Don't worry. He's doing a great job. It's just that the people I saw in Canberra on Tuesday said they'd like to meet him, and I thought it would do him good to take him down there for the day.'

‘I'm sure he'll enjoy it. I meant to take him there sometime, but we never got round to it.'

There was a pause. In the background I could hear voices, the sound of cooking, kitchen utensils. I guessed she was calling from the kitchen, with the family around.

‘How are you?' I asked at last.

‘Alright I suppose. Pretty depressed, to be honest. But I'm glad you rang. Did Eric tell you? I'm going back to Leeds.'

‘He mentioned it.'

‘I was going to ring you.'

‘Can I ask a question? I know it's none of my business, but is it because of that man, that you wouldn't tell me about?'

‘No! I told you! I have to go back! I haven't got any choice!'

‘Well, you do now. In case it makes any difference.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I got you an extension. You can stay longer if you want.'

‘How did you do that?'

‘When I went to Canberra. I asked my friend there if he could fix it and he did. It's all arranged. All you have to do is go to Immigration and they'll give you one on the spot. You'd need a reference number but I've got that too if you want it.'

‘Why didn't you tell me?'

‘I couldn't, remember? You didn't want me to ring you! Besides, what difference does it make, if you've decided to go?'

‘But I don't want to go back, Paul! I want to stay!'

‘You do?' I couldn't believe my ears. ‘But what about that man? Don't you want to go back to him?'

‘No! He – oh Paul, we need to talk!'

‘We certainly do!'

The background noise had risen, and sounded more like an altercation. A woman's voice made some sharp remark, there was silence, as if we'd been cut off, and then Hao came back on the line. She sounded flustered.

‘I can't talk now, but can I come and see you? Are you free this evening?'

‘No, I'm sorry, I have to go to a dinner. But I'm free all day tomorrow if you like.'

‘Tomorrow's no good, I promised I'd work in the shop, they're short-handed.'

‘Tomorrow night? Or would you rather wait until Sunday, when we get back from Canberra?'

She hesitated.

‘Maybe we'd better wait until then. Can I call you tomorrow evening? Will you be home?'

‘Yes. I won't be going anywhere.'

Another comment. I couldn't make out the words, but they didn't sound very pleasant.

‘I'm sorry. I have to go – I'll call you tomorrow.'

She hung up before I could speak. I felt frustrated as I put the phone down. As conversations went this one raised more questions than it answered. But at least we were talking again. After the misery of the past four days it was a blessed relief.

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