Читать книгу Cull - Stafford Ray - Страница 19

Canberra was unseasonably cold. The big jet wobbled as it banked over the hills surrounding the airport. Approach was always bumpy in windy conditions and it seemed to be windy whenever Harry came to town. Snow was clearly visible to the south in the early morning sunshine as Qantas flight QF803 settled into its approach. Foreign Minister Thomas Pender would be there to meet them.

He looked towards the door and noted they hadn’t been treated to a tunnel. Shivering in anticipation, he dragged out his travelling bag and removed the old duffle coat. It fell well short of current fashion and a glance in Mae’s direction confirmed her agreement.

“That coat has to go Harry,” she smiled. “You’re supposed to be selling America!”

He ignored her and shrugged into his coat in preparation for a blast of cold air off the Brindabellas. Cold wind had already begun to displace the warm air of the cabin. Eventually he shuffled to the doorway and squeezed past Mae to lead her down the steps onto the Canberra tarmac.

Thomas Pender was waiting on the apron and waved in recognition. ‘The poor bastard always looks cold even in warm weather,’ he thought, but today, Canberra had really turned on the freezer.

With a dusting of snow around his feet, he looked positively miserable. Harry chuckled to himself as he compared Pender’s formal suit with his faithful old coat and compounded the difference by pulling the fur lined hood over his balding head. As Harry reached the last step, Pender moved forward and grasped his outstretched hand in a double-handed grasp. “Welcome to Canberra, Harry, I trust you had a pleasant flight.”

Harry suspected Pender was holding his hand a little longer than necessary. He almost chuckled at the fleeting thought of Pender as gay but laughed as he returned Pender’s handclasp.

“Let’s get to somewhere warm before you freeze my damned fingers off!”

Harry withdrew his hand and gestured towards Mae. “This is my assistant and linguist, Ling Mae.” Then turning from Pender, he said. “Mae, meet Foreign Minister Pender.”

Pender took her hand and held it as Harry continued, “Mr Pender is Foreign Minister and a personal friend.”

He held Mae’s hand as Harry talked. With the introduction concluded, he shook her hand again briefly but then continued to hold it as she acknowledged him with the standard “Pleased to meet you.” He then resumed the shake as he completed his welcome. “Welcome to Australia Ms Ling. I apologise for the weather.” He gave her hand a last shake and dropped it as he added, “Nobody expects a return to winter so late in spring. You must be freezing.”

With that, he relieved Mae of her bulging brief case, turned and led them toward the terminal building. Mae caught up and strode beside him. “I’m quite used to it, really.” Pender slowed as he looked at her more intently. “I was born in Cooma. There are still some Australian Born Chinese around here. Most ABCs in the highlands are related to me one way or another.” She laughed as she continued to charm him in her broadest accent. “I’ll bet you a schooner I’ve spent more time in Canberra than you have!”

Mae sensed she had captivated Pender as he smiled warmly and replied, “Well! In that case we’d better give you a special welcome home.” She suspected where that might be leading.

“How does your wife like Canberra?”

As with most married men in the presence of a beautiful girl, the mention of the wife consigned any thoughts of flirting to the dumpster. “She likes it well enough, but misses her friends in Melbourne. She finds the place a bit dull. Not much happens.”

Now that she had set the limits she was able to reclaim some of his warmth. “I went to uni here. Wonderful place to be a student.” He was listening so she continued, “But I escaped to the snow whenever I could and was always happy to get home to Cooma.”

At the door of the VIP lounge, Pender held the door for Mae. As she passed through he said, “We could lend you a car for the day, if you like.”

Harry was right behind her and agreed as they passed into the warmth of the lounge. Having Mae out of the way could be an advantage. “Good idea. I don’t need you today; you can meet me back here tomorrow. OK?”

He put his bag down beside a leather armchair. “I’d come too, but I don’t have time to fart.” Silence followed as Pender forced a smile over his embarrassment. Harry didn’t seem to notice as he eased himself into the chair.

“What’s the chance of a coffee?”

That request released Pender from his verbal paralysis. “I’d better sit here,” he grinned, pointing to the furthest chair. Mae laughed and Harry grimaced as Pender waved to a hovering waiter. As the waiter approached, he held a chair for Mae and once again composed, chose a chair for himself beside Mae on the far side of the Mulga wood coffee table.

“Nice day!” the waiter joked, his pen poised above his order pad. Harry offered him a baleful glare.

The waiter smiled in response, then spoke no more while they placed their orders. Leather squeaked as they settled back.

Harry turned to Pender as Mae reached into her brief case for pad and pen. Pender noticed her movement and looked enquiringly to Harry who gestured to stop her. “Nothing official this trip. Relax.”

She replaced the pad and with her hand out of sight, tripped the switch of her miniature sound recorder.

Pender cleared his throat, perhaps as a reaction to his wait in the cold, but more likely as a signal that what he was about to say was not comfortable for him.

“Charles is expecting you this afternoon, so how do you want to fill in the morning? I’d like a bit of your time.” He glanced at Mae, not sure if he should go on.

Harry caught the look but Mae relieved Pender’s anxiety by declaring that she must visit the ladies room and stood, leaving the recorder running.

He was clearly relieved. As soon as Mae had disappeared, he moved to the chair closest to Harry and said very quietly, “I’m not happy with some aspects of Charles’s…um… He’s up to something.”

This was uncomfortable territory for Harry. He leaned towards him, preparing to redirect the conversation to a more comfortable subject, but Pender went on quickly, “I know this is highly irregular, but I suspect something’s going on that’s being kept from me, Harry, and I was hoping for some enlightenment.”

“OK,” Harry responded warily. “What’s worrying you?”

“Harry,” he began, leaning forward and speaking softly. “We’ve ratified that order for two hundred new planes.”

Harry listened but was nonplussed. “Is that a problem?”

“Well, Defence knocked them back, insisting they didn’t deliver on specifications. Now, as far as I know they still don’t, but suddenly they’re arriving and Ho’s getting restless.”

“I can’t see why he’d be worried. I mean, they didn’t like the previous government siding with the Japanese either, but that’s old stuff. New government, new policies, long forgotten, I thought. What stirred him this time?”

“I don’t know. Nobody’s telling me anything and now we’re getting chatter from Indonesia that hundreds of boat loads of refugees are heading south and we must presume that means here.” He gestured his frustration. “There’s nothing from Defence or Foreign Affairs and I’m the minister, for God’s sake!”

Harry remained silent and listened. He was thinking of Ho and what he’d said about the American aid worker with the money. He felt a stirring of suspicion.

“The question is, Harry, where are they getting the money? And how will Charles respond?”

“How will he respond?”

“We haven’t talked about it. He says it’s Woolley’s show and Brett won’t tell me squat, so I’m left guessing. I can’t but wonder if that’s why Defence accepted the planes. They could be linked.”

Harry waited.

“And if they are, there’s a secret operation going on that even Foreign Affairs doesn’t know about and that scares me.”

“I imagine it would.”

“Harry,” Pender pleaded. “I’ve known you a long time. I’ve always been frank with you and I always thought you were with me. We’ve always been on the same page even when our beloved leaders were leading us astray. I need your help here.”

“I don’t know what I can do,” Harry replied. “I really don’t know anything about it.”

Thomas Pender looked defeated, sat back and sighed. “Well, I really need you to find out what you can from your people because I damn well know I’m getting fuck-all from mine!”

“I can ask Mulaney if you like,” Harry offered, immediately regretting it. “But I guess if he’s telling you nothing he’ll tell me less.”

Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement. Mae was returning. He raised his voice a notch as she rejoined them. “Anyway, thanks for the update.”

Mae noted Pender had moved to the chair furthest from the recorder. It was unlikely the sound would be clear. ‘Win some lose some,’ she thought, as she took advantage of the diversion offered by the approaching waiter to turn it off.

He expertly placed each coffee in front of the appropriate person along with a small plate, a knife and a refill pot. Then from his tray, he produced hot fresh scones, cream and strawberry jam.

Delicious scents of fresh baking wafted over them as they silently watched him work. At the sight of the scones, he received smiles of appreciation and an “Ahh!” from Mae. Pender spoke for them. “Thanks Tony. You’ve done it again!”

He signed the tab, the waiter straightened, bowed slightly and said as he turned to go, “Thank you sir, will there be anything else?”

Harry grinned as Pender assured the waiter there was nothing more he could do, then turned and held the scones out to Mae. “These’ll take you back!”

Her eyes lit up as she murmured a soft “Thank you,” and took a scone.

Pender turned again to Harry. “Anything you can tell me about your meeting with Ho?”

“It was interesting,” he answered carefully. “He brought up what he interprets as resurgent Japanese militarism. I’m afraid Tanner gave him a serve over human rights. That cooled the discussion as usual.” He laughed bitterly. “So you might have more credibility than I do at the moment. You could use that to smooth his feathers over the defence pact you signed with Japan. He’s genuinely worried there’s a threat there and you need to address that.”

Pender, of the old school of manners, finished chewing before answering. “I don’t know. Unfortunately, our defence pact with Japan was never matched by one with China. Th at still makes any mention of Japan, at least by me, a bit problematical.”

Harry had no qualms about talking with his mouth full and concurred. “OK, but in the long run, your Japanese pact may prove to be a good investment. As much as I like Ho, he does lead a basically racist people who would prefer the whole world had oriental eyes!” He glanced at Mae as she looked down to hide her smile. “I don’t know that he’s prepared to wait for the genes to mix naturally. A bit like old Mao, he might like to see China dominate the world within his lifetime.”

Pender was wrestling with the comparison of Ho and Mao. “What, invade? Who would he invade?”

To divert him, Harry moved to safer waters. “I mean economically; an economic invasion,” he laughed. “I’m not talking war!”

Pender stared at Harry. “Really? I got the impression you were hinting at military domination!”

“No, no!” Harry objected. “Economic.”

Pender considered that as he buttered another scone and applied jam liberally. He was not convinced, but took a bite and swallowed before he spoke. “You might think so, Harry, but I don’t agree. I think he’d put his hand up for a shot at ethnic cleansing if he was sure it’d work.”

Harry smiled at his image of Ho but Pender interpreted it as derision.

“I mean it. It’s really about space and resources. The Chinese need both.”

Mae joined in. “I agree. They’re becoming more belligerent. They may be…” Harry cut her off, worried she might mention Duk.

“Overpopulation and shrinking resources. They have to do something, but so far, they make their adjustments internally.”

“I agree,” Pender said. “But things have changed and it worries me.”

Harry smiled at him and leaned forward, preparing to stand. “Well, whatever we say here will have precious little effect on what the madmen do.”

Now standing, he continued as Mae finished the last of her coffee, “And that won’t be decided here.” Pender remained seated until Mae had finished, then stood. Pender had taken the straps of Mae’s bag, but loosened his hold as he asked, “Could you spare some time later… after you’ve talked to Charles?”

“Of course, in your office?”

“No,” he answered slowly. “I feel it might be better if we have an informal talk here before you leave, if that’s OK with you?”

Harry nodded as Pender again hefted Mae’s bag. “Hyatt Hotel?” He turned toward the exit.

“That’s fine,” Harry answered as they followed him through the door to the waiting BMW, engine ticking over, heater on and a plume of white vapour from its exhaust being blown to invisibility by the biting southerly.

The car moved off. Harry was worried. Intrigue was bad for diplomacy and here, it was palpable.

He left the diplomatic car at the Hyatt. His bag was carried in as he waved goodbye to Pender and Mae, who carried on to arrange a borrowed car from the Commonwealth pool.

He asked that his bags be taken to his room and strode to the taxi rank. “CSIRO laboratories please.”