End It With A Lie

Tuesday 4.55 pm

  It was five minutes to five o’clock when Dan walked into the front bar of the hotel.

  The place was crowded and he felt somewhat obvious in his dark suit.

  He ordered a light beer and sipped slowly with the desire to keep his head clear. Water would have been preferable, but he felt he looked out of place enough as it was without driving the point home to this rough and ready crowd.

  After no more than a quarter of the glass of beer he felt a touch at his elbow. He turned his head as he heard a voice say.

  “Mr. Sanic?”

  “Yes? I’m Dan Sanic.”

  The man was also wearing a suit and Dan immediately noticed a light gold chain which held a crucifix. It sat just below the knot of his tie and its gold sheen was highlighted by the dark materials backdrop.

  “I have a car waiting, Mr. Sanic. Please follow me?” Dan had expected to leave by the front door. He was taken aback, but glad when the Italian man walked to a hallway and then through a series of doorways before stepping from the rear of the building.

  The Italian man walked to the rear door of the car and held it open in silent invitation. Dan slid into the car and immediately felt the glare of the outside sunlight leave off its invasion on his eyes as the Italian man gently closed the door. Another man who was dressed similar to the Italian man pulled the car into gear and they cruised quietly out of and away from the car park.

  They drove through the city centre in silence. Dan watched out of the window the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. They appeared surrealist as their noise was lost in the obvious sound proofing of the car.

  After a short while the driver turned the car up a litter strewn laneway. Where it meandered to avoid wooden pallets, garbage bins and a street lady whose shopping cart contained the product of her homeless life.

  As they had left from the rear of the hotel, they now approached the rear of another building. Although the reason for this could be given that it was easier to find a parking place, Dan suspected that it was probably more a case of discretion.

  Dan didn’t feel good at all.

  The curse of uncertainty still plagued him. More so now that he was past the point of no return. He worried that the Italians might see his impending betrayal of Tom as suspect, maybe to the point that they might question his loyalty to them.

  After all, if he were in their shoes he would most certainly view his motives, and of course his loyalty with an extremely critical eye.

  Dan took a deep breath and told himself quietly.

  “Take hold of yourself Dan. Shed all emotion and look at the big picture. The big picture is business. You’re here to talk business Dan, just business.” He listened to what he said in thought and tried hard to believe it, but he couldn’t help admitting to himself that he was scared. This was a brand new adventure, where he, Dan Sanic, was going to meet a powerful man. Not as an employee or a messenger, but as a businessman to put forward a business proposal.

  Dan looked about him as he was led down a very ordinary corridor, until the Italian suddenly stopped short and grasped a door handle. He pushed the door open, looked up at Dan and gestured enter with an open hand.

  The Italian had been silent up to this point, and Dan was glad in a way to hear him speak.

  “If you’ll excuse me, just a precaution you understand.” He said as he moved toward Dan and ran his hands over his large body. After the thorough pat down, Dan wondered why the buttons on his suit coat were scrutinized.

  The Italian man finally stood back.

  “If you would like to make yourself comfortable Mr. Sanic, I assure you that your wait will not be long. Would you like tea or coffee?”

  Dan briefly surveyed the room he found himself in before he turned to the Italian man.

  “I would prefer water please.”

  “Yes Mr. Sanic. I will see to it myself.”

  The Italian man closed the door quietly and left him alone in what appeared to be a conference room, equipped with an oval table which was closely crowded with fifteen padded chairs.

  Although he was tempted to sit down, he instead walked across the room and viewed a water colour of an outback Australian scene. He was about to look closely at the artist’s name when he heard the door reopen.

  Thinking that the Italian man had returned with his badly needed water, he turned to accept it. His surprise was overwhelming when instead he found himself confronted by an attractive young woman.

  Dressed in a smart dark suit, she appeared to him to be confident as she strode away from the now closed door. Her greeting was with a smile and an extended hand. He accepted both, and immediately noticed how delicate her fingers felt in his large boned hand.

  He was in control enough to be sure to remember his strength as he took her hand, and he nodded to her as she introduced herself.

  “Good afternoon Mr. Sanic. My name is Mary Marshall. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  “I take it from that, that I may address you as Mary?” She looked up at him a little surprised.

  She was used to living in a man’s world, and had worked hard to build her career within it. Where she was not used to being asked, how it was that she preferred to be addressed. It did happen at times, but normally men just took it for granted that she being a woman would accept whatever way it was that they preferred to address her. They had been right to a certain extent. She had given them a little lee-way, and accepted the inevitable by always introducing herself as Mary. She did at times chide herself for allowing them that lee way, but it was easier in the long run. It gave her the opportunity to get to the point without having to beat around the male ego.

  “Mary will do fine, Mr. Sanic.” She wondered if he was the chat up type or just well mannered.

  “Then how do you do Mary? My name is Dan.”

  She would find out as their meeting progressed that Dan was well mannered and she would never have guessed that he’d had some of the best teachers in the art.

  Dan had taken lessons from some of the best in the good manners business. Cary Grant, Bing Crosby, John Mills and a host of others who had adorned the silver screen. All of whom now lived in his extensive personal library of videos and C.Ds.

  Mary invited him to sit and she understood the reason, but didn’t take his action as personal, when instead he automatically turned his head toward the door, as if he believed they were still one person short.

  “Dan, I’m here on behalf of Mr. Paulini. As his personal assistant I will report immediately back to him. I do understand that you expected a face to face meeting, but would you mind viewing this as a preliminary to that face to face meeting? It will take place at a later date, depending of course on the outcome of this preliminary meeting.”

  Dan, who was by now seated, placed his hands flat onto the top of the table, as if to begin the action of pushing himself to his feet.

  “No way,” he said in a quiet voice.

  He was about to speak again, but was interrupted by a light knock on the door, before the Italian man entered with a tray that held bottled water, clean glasses and a bowl of ice cubes.

  The two of them were silent as the Italian man placed the tray onto the table before he looked at Mary who replied to his enquiring expression.

  “That will be all Benny. Thank you.”

  After Benny had left the room Mary was about to speak when Dan interrupted her.

  “Miss Marshall. Mary.” He corrected himself. “The reason I am here is to put forward a proposition that will without doubt be a major benefit to your Boss. Now please understand, you cannot know the position that I place myself in by being here, and I…”

  Mary interrupted him.

  “Dan please. We do understand the position you find yourself in, and if you like, I can explain to you how it is that you came to be in that position? You will see we know much more than you realize.” Dan went quiet, unsure what it could be that he was about to hear. He bided his tim
e by watching as she took a bottle of water and after removing its lid shared its contents into each of their glasses.

  “Ice?” She asked.

  “No thank you, no.”

  She sipped at her glass, and after placing it onto a coaster she’d taken from the tray, she looked at Dan as if deciding where to begin.

  “Dan, as you will no doubt guess from what I’m about to tell you. We have ears in many places, and the owners of those ears inform us that Tom Lee is now at this moment consolidating his cash assets. He’s collecting on all outstanding debts and is off loading as much amphetamine and ecstasy as his factories can produce. This suggests to us that he may have immigration, or in the least, a long off shore holiday in mind? We are unsure as to why it is that he appears skittish. We think it may have something to do with the fact he fears his possible connection to his former partner’s involvement in something that we believe was much too big for him.” She paused to sip from her glass before she continued.

  “We know that whatever it was that the former partner initiated, has the focus of Federal Police attention now. Lee may in the long run prove that he has no connection with that plot, but just his connection with this former partner will prove him to be a popular aspect of their investigation. Hence it may draw plenty of unwanted attention.”

  “If their investigators get even just one foot in his door they can make life very uncomfortable for him, to the extent that he either shoots through or tries to tough it out. If he shoots through, then his territory will be up for grabs, and that could be a little tedious for the rest of us. If he tries to tough it out, then his competitors will attempt to crowd him out and that could create a situation of extreme danger.”

  She let what she’d said sink in while she looked to the folder on the table top before her and shifted a sheet or two of its paper.

  “You’ve been with Tom Lee for a little over seven years now?”

  Dan looked from her face to the folder and his tone was incredulous.

  “You have a file on us?”

  Mary replied in a teacher like tone as she flicked her fingers through the page corners of the thick file.

  “Dan, we Italians have been in business since the fifteenth century. Part of the reason for our survival is that we’ve learnt to change with the times. There is one thing that has not changed of course, and that is the method we use to gain inside information, a basic necessity that ensures successful outcomes. We change with the times, these times demand information, and at a rate that sometimes I fear that our main frames will burst.”

  Mary went back to viewing the pages in the folder with apparent total concentration, biding her time and waiting for Dan to make his move. She knew he would. It was only a matter of time. She had led him along the garden path and now it was up to him to pick the berries. All she had done up to this point was to tell him what she knew to be fact. That was within the law and an act of self-preservation on her part in case something went askew. If she had put forward a proposal, then she would be crossing the line, so she waited for him to say what it was she expected to hear. Then he would be in the compromised position if ever he talked out of school.

  Dan tugged the top button of his shirt with his hooked finger and took water from his glass as tried to bring his thoughts to order. It appeared to him that Paulini had an informant in the police department who kept him up to date with certain investigations. Most certainly he also had a pair of ears inside Tom’s organization. Organization? These Italians made Lee’s set up look like a side show.

  Dan was way out of his depth. He felt like he had fallen into the deep end, and now had to stay afloat long enough to learn to tread water. He had come here to deliver a business proposal. Suddenly he felt like he had tendered a job application and was sitting the interview.

  He tried to get back some control of the situation.

  “Mary, I know these things you’ve explained. I can see that Tom Lee is in a position which could become precarious. What I want is to take over if the situation becomes critical. As you’ve pointed out, I’ve been inside Lee’s organization for seven years and I know it like the back of my hand. My main problem is that I don’t know which people on Lee’s staff will be willing to side with me. The fact of the matter is, I know what must be done, but I don’t see how I can carry out my plan on my own.”

  His words rang in his ears and he had to admit to himself that it sounded very lame. He felt somewhat dispirited until Mary revived him.

  “Dan, if the situation develops to the extent that you are in need of our financial advisory services, or if you see the need to restructure the business interests from the ground up, please do not hesitate to call me.” She paused for a moment to take from the folder one of her business cards as she added, “Of course if you find yourself in need of our professional staff you can be assured of our support.” She didn’t touch the side of her nose in a ‘wink, wink say no more’ fashion, but Dan understood what she meant by staff. After all, that is what he’d asked for.

  Dan knew that the meeting was over when she stood up. He rose to his feet and allowed her to escort him to the door. The Italian man had been waiting in the corridor.

  “Benny if you’d show Mr. Sanic back to the car please. Instruct the driver to take him wherever he wishes to go, and then return here to me.”

  Mary stood back from the doorway to make room for Dan to pass by. As she did, Dan noticed a small wire which ran from behind her ear to a type of hearing aid piece of apparatus. He’d not noticed it before as she had been sitting with the earpiece away from him. Did she plan the seating arrangement at the table to be free from embarrassment in being hearing impaired, he thought?

  Dan felt some sympathy for her. He dragged his eyes away from her ear before he moved through the doorway, catching the intensity of her perfume as he went.

  She spoke to him as he stepped into the corridor and he turned to face her. “Dan, there is a good chance that we will hear of, how shall I put it, the development of a critical situation before you do, but please let me remind you. When you feel it’s necessary, call the number on my business card and all of our resources will be immediately put at your disposal.” She held out her hand to him and he took it. She finished their business with the compliment, “It’s a pleasure to do business with you.”

  Dan returned the compliment with a nod of his head before he turned away and followed Benny down the corridor.

  Mary turned and walked back to the oval table to collect her folder of papers. As she did she spoke out loud like mad person might when the walls closed in.

  “I think that now, after all these years you may be on the verge of acquiring all of Lee’s territory Mr. Paulini. Would you agree?”

  She listened as her boss’s voice came clearly through her ear piece before answering, again speaking to the microphones embedded in the four surrounding walls.

  “Yes Sir, Thank you. We should, I think, hear from him within a week.”

  Mary removed the ear piece and dropped it into her coat pocket. Her smile was broad when a knock came at the door and she looked up from the open folder to speak to Benny as he approached.

  “Benny, would you mind taking this folder to my secretary, tell her that I’ve read through it and I’m satisfied with the figures. If she can have it prepared for lodgment with the Lands Department by noon tomorrow I’ll be happy. Thank you.” She handed him the folder, which Dan had mistakenly believed to be devoted to Tom Lee’s outfit. As he turned away to leave she wondered about Dan Sanic. Coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t stupidity that possessed him, it seemed that he was just knee deep in naivety.

  Mary slowly shook her head from side to side as she spoke quietly to herself.

  “Poor Dan, if we had a file on Lee’s operation it probably would not more than a page long, and unless you play your cards right, your future might even be shorter.”

  Tuesday 9.50 pm

  Ben Preston had had a long day
. He poured a drink from one of the bottles which adorned his living room side board before he took a pre-cooked spaghetti sauce meal from his freezer. Sometimes in his spare time he’d cook up a large boiler of meat sauce and a separate pot of spaghetti. Then placed meal sized portions into plastic containers to be stored in his freezer. He rarely felt like cooking when he came home late, and unless he had taken the opportunity to eat out, or buy take away he relied on the frozen pantry.

  Freezers were like micro-wave ovens and automatic washing machines he thought. They were a bachelor’s best friend, or in his case, a widower’s best friend.

  With the timer set he pressed the micro waves start button, before habitually removing himself to his lounge room to see what his television had to offer. The lounge room was small. As was the whole flat he lived in, but it was easier for him to maintain compared to the house he’d vacated after his wife’s passing.

  Ease of maintenance was not the main reason for the sale of his original dwelling. It was only one quarter of the reason. With one of the other three parts being that he was not staying in Sydney after his retirement.

  The third part was that a rented flat would be easier to walk away from at short notice when that time came. The fourth part and by far the most important, was that there were no ghosts in this new abode. Other than the few which were attached to the assortment of photographs he had scattered about this room.

  In less than three months he would leave Sydney. Accept his police pension gratefully, pack a bag and walk out to see where life would take him.

  Walking away from this city would not be hard, and he agreed with Quinn. They were both alike, and like other baby boomers they’d lived through the best period of the twentieth century, until finally they noticed change. Sydney, like cities all over the world was unable to escape the change that the drug culture brought and spread through its communities, infecting all those susceptible as it seeped through to the cities soul.

  It was not noticeable at first that the ‘big smoke’ was losing its innocence. In time it became more obvious, when offshoots of its culture began to make their impact known, like AIDS, home invasions, bag snatching, burglary and street gang activity.

  Not to mention distraught parents who tried desperately to cope with untrustworthy offspring who would sell those same parents for a quick fix.

  In one way or another it affected everyone, including innocent bystanders who were not surprised by anything anymore.

  Ben had served the community as a policeman for over thirty years. He’d fought a good fight against the bad guys, but he’d reached a time in his life when he had to hand over the reins to the younger generation. To law enforcers of the new age, who had a better understanding of the threats that twenty first century society faced.

  He sat back in his comfortable chair and used the televisions remote control to flick through a reality show and an old movie before accepting the late evening news.

  A woman reporter stood in an overcoat on a windswept wet street. Suddenly the camera left her. It captured a white van in its lens and held it as it passed through a gateway to an industrial buildings yard.

  Ben had only a short moment to catch sight of a large doorway in the industrial building on the far side of the yard. Its shadowed openness in the side of the building was momentarily obvious, before the delivery gate which led onto the street was closed.

  He did gain a brief glance of a man dressed in a chemical hazard suit, as the cameraman tried to glean as much information from the shot as possible.

  A second later he was again faced with the woman in the coat, and he turned his TV’s volume up in time to catch a segment of the story.

  “... it would seem from the documents which were delivered to our newsroom by person’s unknown, that the building partly hidden by the gates behind me was used to manufacture the electrical component. The documents also state that the electrical component was designed to house a weapon of mass destruction. The fact that our news crews arrived at this site at around the same time the authorities did, suggests that it is those same persons’ anonymous intention to bring this stark reality to the attention of the whole world. The documents also state clearly that there are five of these weapons. Four of them exported from England to countries which were known during the lead up to the invasion of Iraq as the coalition of the willing….”

  The news reporter was interrupted by the noise of a truck that passed behind her. It turned into the gateway where a policeman moved to open its gate.

  Ben watched, and then suddenly realized that the news story was unedited. While that thought lingered in his head, the name of the news corporation, B.B.C London flashed onto the bottom of the screen, along with the word, LIVE.

  He leaned forward in his chair and stared at the screen. His ears pricked with intent at hearing every word that was spoken. Reward came with a brief glimpse of the large doorway as the truck passed through the gateway. For a second his eyes feasted greedily, before the gate was closed again, concealing from view all activity on the inside.

  An object caught in his brief glimpse had sat squarely in the buildings open doorway. It registered in his brain and he saw it again clearly in his mind’s eye. It was the identical twin of the one that had attracted his attention in Grey Street and he breathed words of recognition through dry lips, “Another wooden box.”

  The feeling he’d felt in his bones about the wooden box in Grey Street came upon him again, but now with much more urgency. Something very serious is going to happen, he thought. Suddenly his mobile phone called out for attention.

  “Preston.”

  “Ben its Rusty Bates. It seems that we’ve work to do. I’ve put the word out for a full briefing at H.Q. All hands on deck A.S.A.P.”

  Ben’s answer was brief.

  “On my way.”

  He’d no sooner put his mobile down, when his landline phone started its call and he walked across the room to it.

  “Preston.”

  “Boss it’s Rodney, are you watching the news?”

  “Yes. I’ve caught enough it to understand why Commander Bates just called to let me know that everyone’s called in for a full briefing. All hands on deck were his words so I’ll see you there. I’ll call Alan and let him know. You pass the word on to the rest of my people will you?”

  “Yes Boss. It appears that you were right about that big wooden box?”

  “Sometimes I wish that I was wrong young Rodney. No time for talk now. It’s time to get moving. Let’s go.”

  “Yes Sir.” Ben turned about and walked into the kitchen to his now hot meal. He removed it from the microwave and placed it, still in its freezer container, into a shopping bag.

  In his bedroom he put on a clean shirt and carried with him another two others as spares. Doubting he would be returning to this place tonight. He moved to the lounge room and tried for some seconds to gain more information into what was happening in London.

  Reluctant to turn off the television and thus cut himself off from his only available source of information, he listened for several more seconds as he donned his coat.

  The door was almost closed behind him when he remembered Cooper’s phone, and he had to juggle his carried items as he retrieved it from the kitchen breakfast bar.

  A few minutes later he was on the road and heading toward what he believed to be the beginning of a serious situation. The world had changed, and although he wished at times that God would come and cleanse the world of evil, he was also glad at times that God as yet hadn’t done so, because he needed evil.

  Evil was the fox and he, Ben Preston was the hound.

  Take away the fox and the hound’s life was without meaning.

  As he drove hard through the city’s streets he felt excitement build within him.

  The chase was about to begin.

  CHAPTER 17