it.’
‘Is this a direction from you?’ she asked. ‘And if it is, is there any agreement to support it? Normally when this kind of arrangement is made, there’s a written agreement and a set of directions on how to proceed.’
‘That’s a refusal.’
‘No, it’s a request for clear, written directions.’
‘Then we’ll see what happens first. In the meantime, you stay assigned to this operation under my direction.’
Again, he opened his folder. This time, he spread out a series of photographs. Jirawan in the Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park. Photographs Grace had taken herself.
‘There’s something else I think we should discuss,’ Grace said, keeping her irritation under control. ‘Given this woman is Jirawan Sanders, what about her husband? Is he missing? Or is he dead?’
Clive looked up from the photographs. ‘He’s dead. Peter Sanders. He was an Australian who ran an import–export business in Bangkok, which is where he met this woman. That’s the last piece of information I’m going to give you right now.’
‘She has a child somewhere. If both parents are dead, shouldn’t we find out where this child is, or at least ask someone to locate him or her?’
‘Whatever’s happened to that child, it’s not our responsibility.’
It’s our first responsibility ! Grace wanted to shout, but choked back the words. She couldn’t risk losing this job.
Finally Clive gathered up the pictures and put them away. ‘The man who did this—’
‘Man?’ she interrupted.
‘Apart from the evidence of sexual assault, do you think a woman would have the physical strength to do this?’
‘A woman could watch. She could administer a beating.’
‘Yes, she could. But whoever did this likes to kill. That’s my opinion. Report to me tomorrow about tonight’s raid. One other thing. Have you heard the news in the last hour?’
‘No. I haven’t had time.’
‘You should go and listen to it.’
‘Why?’
‘Chris Newell was snatched as he left court today in a very bloody affair. Two people are dead and several badly wounded. We both know about Newell’s connection to you. If he turns up on your radar, I need to know.’
‘I’m going to make a personal call. Excuse me,’ Grace said, and left the room immediately.
At Orion, personal calls were only tolerated under very unusual circumstances and had to be made on your own phone. Walking at speed down the hallway to her office, Grace rang Harrigan with a shaking hand. She was desperate to talk to him, but nothing would have made her call in front of Clive.
The phone was answered almost at once. ‘Harrigan.’
She breathed relief. ‘It’s me. Are you all right? What’s happened?’
‘I’m okay, babe. I don’t have a scratch on me, which is more than you can say for some of the people here. It’s bad. Two men shot dead. It happened in front of me.’
‘You’re okay?’
‘I’m handling it. It’s like being back on the job again.’
‘Someone did that for Newell? Why?’
‘Don’t ask me. He’s not worth anything like this. I can’t talk to you now—I’ve got people who want me this end. What time will you be home tonight?’
‘Late. There’s an op going on. I don’t know when I’ll get back.’
‘We’ll talk about it then. You take care.’
‘Where’s Ellie?’
‘She’s fine. She’s at Kidz Corner. I’ll pick her up the same time I always do. She won’t know anything’s happened. Okay? I’ll see you.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Take care, babe.’
‘You too.’
Babe. A name he had given her this last year or so. At first, it had seemed so unlike him it had startled her. One of those small pieces of intimacy between them she could still be surprised by.
She thought about Clive’s comment on her personal life. She wasn’t the only one who had changed. Since Clive had arrived,Orion had changed as well. To an agency already obsessed with secrecy, he’d brought new levels of paranoia. People worked in