It took every bit of an hour to get the plan together. Neither the broker nor the diamond merchant would move without cash in hand. Into the bargain, unless it was a Bank cheque, they'd have to wait till it cleared, and that meant starting work about the middle of next week. They were both very polite, each of them thanked him cordially for the early warning, but those were the rules.
So back he went to the bank with all his instructions: cheques for the broker and Darlington's, and his traveler’s cheques, most of the rest to go into Government and Semi Government bonds at the manager's earliest convenience.
Those bonds were the greatest risk, it seemed to him. Sitting there at the point – and moment - of the money's arrival, they were going to be discovered first. They'd better be disposed of somehow in a week or two, or someone might have them set up as bait when he came back. At the eleventh hour, he had cut the value of the bond purchases back to three million, just in case he had to dump them. No point being greedy.
A quarter-hour, most of which seemed to be spent signing traveler’s cheques, and he was off to the city to deliver three big cheques. He'd written instructions for the stock and option brokers, too; now that so much was involved, they strongly preferred a written confirmation.
By this time, Carl had had enough. This business of following people usually meant long hours of sitting, watching, waiting as it had on Lester What's-his-name yesterday, but today something wasn't right. The boss always stressed that he only phone from the car if it was important. As Lester called in at another big city building, Carl finally decided this really was important and picked up the mobile phone.
Dave listened to the morning's diary with mounting interest, and was pleased. He agreed on an hourly report schedule while they took a bit more interest in what was going on here, and thanked Carl for the call. Gratitude, from the boss!
Dealing autocratically with front-desk receptionists had gotten Lester through the delivery routine in double-quick time, and he was back in Mulgrave on the dot of midday. There hadn't been time for a change back to casual clothes, so he did what he could in the car park to destroy the grooming; tie off, sleeves rolled up, belt askew, that would have to do. He found Paul at the party, promised to make up for the Help Desk inconvenience and padded quietly back to his desk on the now-deserted second floor.
Once his resignation memo was typed, he changed passwords and had a quick peep in the key places where there might be trouble for his departing shadow. There was nothing; even the perpetrator could find no trace of the crime. God, this was smooth. A floor below in the cafeteria, Melanie Hancock was carrying the Internal Audit pager when it burst into song. Feeling years more senior than her tender experience, she switched it off and gulped a last sausage roll from the table nearby. Catching a knowing glance from AJ, she excused herself from the small group and headed for the computer centre. Alf, she noticed, was right behind: couldn't let a woman get all the glory, she supposed.
Melanie and Alf were like bloodhounds on the same leash; he watched breathless over her shoulder as the key facts came from the computer's security monitor. It was a terminal in the systems area, and it had logged off not five minutes ago. Almost everybody was in the cafeteria for the party now, so he raced up the third floor while she headed clackety-clack for the caf doors to note passing names and faces. In another five minutes, they could tell whose terminal it was.
Twenty minutes after arriving, his resignation unobtrusively planted under a couple of papers in Fred's in-tray, he headed for the car park. He wasn't hungry.
That was when he noticed the blue station wagon consciously, but he knew he'd seen it before this morning. Coincidence? No, it turned out of the staff park behind him.
Back at home, he sat back and thought carefully through all the preconditions for a clean identity break, and did as his reason told him.
Driving into Caulfield, he stopped near the Bank and transferred $15,000 from the "Lester" account into the "L.J. and A.H." account. That would help Annie cope with any inconvenience. Rather than go back to the car, he took a cab from the nearby railway station: part of the clean break.
As he saw his partner Bob thundering back towards the blue wagon, Carl started the engine and met him half-way.
"Caught a bloody cab. Yellow. Towards the city," Bob gasped, quite unused to sprinting.
Sweet smell of a car chase in his nostrils, Carl accelerated straight ahead as soon as Bob was half aboard. "Get the boss on the phone," he mumbled, concentrating on the traffic all around.
"What do I say?"
"Tell him it's happening. Tell him we need some help. I think the guy noticed us behind him a while back. Time the boss answers, we might know more."
Dave answered almost at once; this was the third call in an hour, and he had been busy arranging extra resources in case this was a critical moment. If Bayliss was running, he would be heading for the airport, probably the international terminal. That did seem like the best bet.
"Can you see him?"
"No," Bob answered, "but he's probably only 30 seconds ahead of us, as long as we've got the direction right."
"It's the airport," Dave speculated with supreme confidence. "If you catch him on the way, pull the cab over and pick the kid up. If you don't, wait for him at the International departures barrier. I'll meet you there, if necessary."
They had a few more queries, but the die was cast. Dave was sure he had a winner, sure enough to kidnap him, and confident now that Lester wouldn’t call the police.
Lester was delighted with progress, though a bit giddy with the speed of it all. He would have an hour or so spare before the trip to Kuala Lumpur, but the airport was still the safest place to spend time.
It was a real pity about Annette. The thing was she simply didn't fit in with a clean break. Could she keep her mouth shut? Didn't matter, she didn't have another identity. In a couple of weeks or months, they might very well trace her, and that would ruin everything if she was with him.
Anyway, she might not even have wanted to go with him.
Through the city, the cab headed for the airport, and he pulled the travel wallet out to admire it as the cab slowed for a stop-light. This had been a dream run, as smooth as the cash transfer of yesterday. It seemed as though this was the first red traffic light they'd met in twenty kilometres.
Suddenly, sickeningly, the wallet seemed thin. Flipping it open, he realised the passport was gone. There was just its plastic cover inside, with a note inside that.
Dangerous to leave this
lying around. Let's talk
about it in Christchurch.
Annie.
The blue station wagon was six cars back, and they still hadn't seen him as the light turned green. The cab pulled smoothly off onto the airport freeway.
###
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Many thanks,
Geoff.