LITMIR.BIZ

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Taxico sign. An array of dusty taxis were parked nearby and Diane could see that most of them had seen better days. They displayed a variety of nicks and bumps that had been hastily beaten back into some semblance of shape before being covered with a thin layer of paint. ‘I’ll bet none of them has less than half a million kilometres on them,’ she said with a look of disdain.

      ‘They’d never be allowed out on the road in Canberra,’ nodded Pile.

      Inside the factory unit they found that the ground floor consisted of a large workshop where three taxis were up on hoists while a trio of men in grease stained overalls worked on them. In the corner of the unit was a recreation room and toilet where the drivers took their obligatory breaks, or awaited the arrival of the vehicles they would be taking out on their next shift.

      A short staircase outside the recreation room led to an office area. The agents climbed the metal stairs and opened the door. Inside they found a series of small cubicles and a miniscule reception area. Diane noted that one of the cubicles held a large two-way radio console, and that it was being operated by a female who appeared to be of African heritage. Disappointed that Travers was not present Diane turned her attention to the reception desk where the company’s owner Bob Clements had installed his wife to answer the phones, mainly as a cost cutting measure rather than for her ability as a telephonist.

      Ailsa looked up from the magazine on her desk. ‘Can I help you?’ she asked Pile.

      Pile produced his identification. ‘Agent Pile from ASIO, and this is my boss, Agent Hall. We’d like to talk to a Mr Dan Travers. Is he here?’

      ‘Sorry! I thought you must be the boss,’ blushed Ailsa. She turned to Diane. ‘It’s too early. He’s not here yet.’

      ‘Do you know where I might find him?’ asked Diane.

      ‘At home I suppose.’

      Pile shook his head. ‘We’ve been there. The house is empty.’

      Ailsa turned toward one of the cubicles where a middle-aged man had his back to the door and was hunched over a computer keyboard. ‘Bob!’ she called. ‘There are some people here from ASIO.’

      Bob Clements spun around in his chair at the mention of a federal government agency, his face suddenly losing its colour. ‘ASIO?’

      ‘They want to speak to Dan,’ explained Ailsa.

      ‘He’s not here.’

      ‘So we’ve been told,’ said Pile. ‘We were wondering if you can help us.’

      Clements stood and made his way over to the reception desk. ‘Ailsa,’ he began, ‘could you go downstairs and make me a cup of coffee?’

      ‘Um, sure.’

      Diane watched as the woman scurried outside and down the stairs. She also noted that one of the cubicles off the reception area held both a soft drink machine and a coffee maker.

      ‘Now, what did you want to know?’ asked Clements with a look of utter innocence painted on his face.

      ‘We wanted to know where we can find Dan Travers.’

      Clements’ answer was interrupted by loud, foreign sounding voices coming from downstairs. All sounded agitated, and were quickly followed by the sound of slamming car doors and squealing tyres.

      ‘He should be at home,’ said Clements over the din.

      ‘He’s not there,’ replied Pile.

      ‘If he’s not here, and he’s not there, then he must be at the beach.’

      ‘The beach? Which beach?’

      Clements shrugged. ‘Wherever the surf is running, but I think he prefers the north side of the harbour. It’s easier for him to get to, but I know he’ll go as far south as Wollongong if the waves are right.’

      Ailsa returned with a chipped mug of coffee and placed it on the desk in front of her husband who ignored it completely.

      ‘Who does he go on these surfing expeditions with?’ asked Diane.

      ‘No one as far as I know. He goes alone. You don’t need help to surf.’

      ‘He has no friends?’

      ‘Not that I know of. We haven’t known him that long have we Ailsa?’

      ‘No. Not long.’

      ‘Does he have any friends here? Who does he talk to?’

      ‘No one, just us, occasionally. He spends all his time in the radio room, and there’s usually no one else here at that time of night.’

      ‘He only works at night?’

      ‘He prefers to work at night. That’s the busiest time for us, and it gives him time to surf during the day.’

      ‘And he has no friends that you know about?’

      ‘He talks on the phone sometimes, but not often.’

      ‘When is he due to start work?’ asked Diane.

      ‘He takes over the radio at four, but he usually arrives earlier to have a shower and change his clothes.’

      ‘We’ll be back at four then,’ said Pile.

      As the agents were about to leave the office Diane turned back to Clements with a smile. ‘Don’t even think about letting Travers know that we’ve been here to see him. I’ll tell you right now that we’ll be checking on what you’ve told us. If we think you’ve lied to us in any way, we’ll be back and we’ll probably have some friends from immigration with us as well, if you get my drift.’

      Clements swallowed involuntarily.

      Downstairs, the factory unit was now surprisingly quiet.

      There was now only a single mechanic at work on a vehicle, with the other two left abandoned on the hydraulic lifts. Hastily discarded tools were lying where they had been dropped in the mechanics rush to depart.

      Outside, there was not a single taxi to be seen.

      ‘It looks as though there has been a sudden rush of customers,’ smiled Diane.

      ‘Business has certainly picked up since we arrived,’ nodded Pile.

      * * *

      Returning to Wallgrove at three thirty meant facing the early stages of the evening peak, a situation that the residents of Canberra rarely had to face, and certainly not to the degree that the agents were now subjected. If they hadn’t been cocooned in their air-conditioned car they would have been in a very evil mood by the time they finally arrived at their destination.

      Warned by two-way radio that the federal agents were due to return, the factory unit remained virtually deserted, and the female radio operator was now missing, her place taken by Clements himself.

      Ailsa looked up as the agents entered. ‘Dan’s here,’ she informed them. ‘He’s downstairs in the recreation room taking a shower. Do you want me to tell him you’re here?’

      ‘Stay where you are. We’ll wait till he comes up.’

      A few minutes later footsteps could be heard on the steel staircase, and Dan entered the room dressed in a pair of camouflage patterned cargo pants, a yellow t-shirt and sandals. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he looked very fit with his skin tanned to a dark brown.

      Dan’s face registered a momentary shock at finding a pair of suited strangers in the reception area, and then an even greater shock as he recognised Agent Hall from his visit to ASIO headquarters.

      ‘I see you recognise me,’ began Diane with a smile. ‘This is my associate Agent Pile, and we’d like to have a little talk with you Mr Travers.’

      ‘There’s not enough room up here for you to sit down,’ said Ailsa. ‘But the recreation room will be empty.’

      Dan

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