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being the country girl she was, had insisted that we buy a property of reasonable size. She wanted a place where she would be able to raise a few chickens and possibly even a horse.

      To find such a property, and at a price which a mere public servant might almost have been able to afford, we were forced to look in the very far reaches of Sydney. We eventually settled on a two acre lot with a ramshackle barn and a very small, three bedroom fibro cottage that had been built in the 1950s.

      It was not a pretty property by any means, but it satisfied the yearnings of my wife and it definitely had what is known in real estate terms as ‘potential’.

      The blue Holden continued past me as I pulled into my driveway, and I parked my Ford behind the house. I knew Brook and Josh would still be at school and that Sandy would probably be in the barn, or behind it in her vegetable garden.

      As expected, I found my wife bent over a row of tomato plants busily pulling weeds, and stood for a moment to watch her swift, self-assured movements as she went about her work.

      Despite the birth of our two children she maintained her slender physique, mainly through the physically demanding work she did around the property. I am a city boy who loves the beach, and therefore I avoid my duties as the co-owner of a small holding as best I can. Sandy, on the other hand, revels in the endless chores and is never afraid of even the most strenuous of tasks, her hard, wiry body a testament to her energy.

      ‘Hi!’ I finally called.

      She stood up and turned to smile at me, and my heart broke with the news I was about to relate.

      The look on my face warned her. ‘Dan? What is it? Why are you home so early?’ she asked.

      ‘The commissioner has thrown me out. I’ve been fired, and they’re talking about possible criminal action.’

      ‘Oh Dan! What have you done?’

      I took a deep breath. ‘I was accessing the work database to help out a pal. And I might have made things even worse today.’

      ‘Worse?’ she said, coming over to me and looking into my eyes. ‘What did you do?’

      ‘I had to appear before the ICAC. I was scared. I refused to talk to them and intimated certain things.’

      ‘You’re not making sense.’

      I put my hands on her shoulders. ‘Look, love, I need to go and do something. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back, but it’s something that I have to do straight away.’

      ‘What do you have to do?’

      ‘Like I said, I’ll tell you when I get back.’

      ‘When will that be?’

      ‘Tomorrow, or the next day.’

      Sandy reached out and placed her hand on my chest. ‘Is it that bad?’

      ‘Worse. All I can think about is what I’ve done to you and the kids.’

      She smiled reassuringly. ‘I’m sure we’ll survive.’

      I wasn’t quite so sure.

      ‘I’m going to go in to have a quick shower. Then I’ll be off.’

      * * *

      Washed, and wearing a clean set of clothes, I felt a little better.

      I kissed Sandy and made my way outside.

      ‘I won’t be long,’ I said, trying to sound confident.

      Sandy was about to say something when the telephone inside began to ring. I kissed her cheek again. ‘Go and answer that,’ I told her as I climbed into my car and started the motor.

      She gave me a quick wave and a very uncertain smile as I drove away.

      I stopped at the front gate and reached into my pocket. My mobile phone emitted its distinct tone as I turned it off. What I had to do in the hours ahead would best be done without interruptions.

      As I pulled out onto the road I spotted the blue Holden. It was parked further down the road facing my front gate, waiting for me to make a move.

      Well, if you’re coming with me, I smiled, then I hope you’re prepared for a long drive.

      CHAPTER 4

       Dan

      As I made my way down the Hume Highway I mentally calculated when I would arrive in Canberra and decided that making my presence felt would have to wait till tomorrow. Even an organisation that operates twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and three hundred and sixty-five days a year does not ordinarily appreciate visitors who arrive outside of normal business hours. Even police headquarters locks its doors at night and allows access only to those with a special pass. I felt a moment of shame as I realised that mine would never allow me access ever again.

      I thought about whom from amongst my old mates from the army I could call on to give me a bed for the night, but decided that visiting a friend would only bring that unfortunate person under suspicion from the officers behind me.

      At Goulburn I stopped for a break, and to make sure that the Holden and its occupants were still with me. I need not have worried. The woman in jeans had given her partner a rest and was now doing the driving.

      As I continued to drive south I made sure I was clearly visible to my followers and took the off-ramp to the Federal Highway and headed for Australia’s capital, Canberra.

      At the outskirts of the capital I turned off the highway and randomly selected one of several caravan parks that lined the road. There I pulled in and booked an overnight van. With no luggage to drop off I simply drove around to locate the van site so that I would be able to find it again in the dark. Then I left again and continued on my way into the city proper, closely followed by my new friends in their Holden.

      I led them to a hotel that I had often frequented in the suburb of Civic, and pulled into the car park. Once inside, I ordered myself a beer and took up a position beside a window from where I had a clear view of my car.

      As expected my pair of followers soon appeared, and I was able to get a look at the male for the first time. He appeared to be the older of the two officers and the one in charge. I gathered this from the way he had of speaking down to his companion, apparently ordering her to maintain a watch while he made a cursory inspection of my utility.

      I saw him lift a corner of the tarpaulin that covered the rear tray. Nothing in there but a wetsuit, towel, and surfboard, I commented to myself, unless it’s my LPG cylinder that you’re after. Maybe you think I’m a terrorist and that the gas tank is a bomb in disguise.

      The officer closed the tarpaulin and was about to try to pick the lock to the front door when he was alerted by his partner that a pair of drinkers had left the hotel and were headed in their direction.

      While they were busy watching for another chance to continue their search I took the opportunity to slip out of the hotel by the door to the main street, and set off to find myself somewhere to eat.

      I selected a notorious fast-food restaurant a block from the hotel, not for its food but because it had large windows on all sides, allowing me to see who was approaching from some way off.

      It didn’t take long for my watchers to realise that I was no longer in the bar. I saw them split up as they emerged from the hotel’s main door. The girl headed in my direction, and I saw the male disappear around a corner. As she reached the restaurant’s car park I slipped into the toilet, and waited there for five minutes.

      She was gone again when I came out, presumably heading further up the street, so I returned to the hotel, ordered another beer and sat down to wait.

      After much searching, and with the light now failing, I saw them return. The male spoke sharply to his companion and the scowl on his face told me he was not a happy man.

      I decided to

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