Stumped!: Bondi Detective's first full story by David Stephenson

Author:David Stephenson [Stephenson, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-01-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Joe woke with a terrible start. He'd had a nightmare that he'd duffed up Ramesh again, and found himself at the gallows. Waverley stood looking at him from below with a mad expression on her face.

Recovering, he looked out his bedroom window. Evidence, evidence, evidence, he told himself. I need to have everything before me to get him, he thought. Their last encounter was a totally botched job. He needed a killer piece of info, which he would then to his prime suspect. He would make sure Ramesh's lawyer was there, too. Joe particularly wanted to see the expression on his face.

His mobile rang.

“Hi Ronni, morning.”

“You're sounding chirpy,” she said.

“Nightmares aside, I've woken up in a very good mood. I must ring Joy, the shrink, and tell her that her services are no longer required.”

“That's great. It's down to almost having fish n chips in Coogee, and then a bottle of Shiraz. Fixes every.”

“Thanks for everything again, Ronni. You're so good. I love you for it.”

“Bit early for that. Enough!”

“I mean it.”

“You're making me blush. It's easier when you're telling me off.”

“Okay, piss off and let me get on with me important job!”

“Love you dad!”

And she rang off.

Joe was as good as he could be with two murders hanging over his head, and a paucity of leads. But the Pakistan connection had real promise.

****

Joe and Jimmy were on the 9th floor of a skyscraper in the CBD of Sydney. The sign of the wall said “ASIO”.

“Well, that's not very secretive,” said Jimmy.

“No. What do these blokes do, but just get in our way.”

They walked through the door to reception, which could have been like any large corporate entity. A stunning young woman was attending the desk, which seemed to wrong foot Joe.

“This is ASIO, the Australian spy network?” he enquired, gently.

“Yes, it is, sir. What can I do for you?” she asked, in a light Scottish burr.

“I'd like a spy, please. How much do they cost?”

“They're not for sale, sir, but a nice try. Not the first to ask.”

“Are you Scottish?” Joe asked.

“I am. I'm a naturalised Australian.”

“Joe,” intervened Jimmy.

“Well, so are we,” said Joe. “All naturalised together.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“We do,” said Jimmy, taking a far more serious tone. “A Mr Toby Blink. Is that right?”

“Ah yes,” she said, looking into a screen, then off to some papers. “He's not here right now.”

“What?” said Joe, sounding put out. “He knows what it's about, I take it?”

Joe felt duty bound to produce his ID.

“Yes, sir. I can see who you are on the screen. It registered you fingerprint ID as you came through the door.”

“Oh, did it?”

“Well done… door.”

“Sir, we are the Australian Government's spy organisation. We're not running a chip shop.”

“Turning away, and half under his breath, he said: “Could have fooled me.”

“Can I remind you, sir, that everything is recorded in this office, and filmed.”

“That wouldn't surprise me. Where do I look?”

Jimmy didn't like where this was going. He led him away.

“What's the problem?” he asked Joe.

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