Fifty Fifty (Detective Harriet Blue #2)(18)

I walked to the stage and thirty sets of eyes followed me. Literally half the population of the valley was here.

‘My name is Detective Inspector Harriet Blue,’ I said loudly. ‘I’m from the Sydney Metro police department. I’ve got a few things to say.’

I drew a long breath. How many of these people would recognise me from the front page of yesterday’s paper? Snale was watching me from the doorway, with ‘Jace’ and the hostile group of farmers.

‘Last night, your former police chief Theo Campbell passed away,’ I said. There was no rumble of voices, no gasps of surprise. ‘We’re still investigating the circumstances, and whether they are linked to the diary Sergeant Snale questioned you all about some days ago. At this stage there is no reason to believe that anyone else in town is under any further threat. I advise you to go about your business. Those people we want to question about the case will be contacted shortly. If you think you’ve got relevant information to share with us about Mr Campbell’s death, or the diary, then please do so.’

I tried to leave the stage and almost ran right into the solid wall of human muscle that was Kash. My stomach sank.

‘Ah, actually,’ he shifted past me to the centre of the stage, ‘it might be helpful, Detective Blue, for us to provide a deeper understanding of what information might be relevant.’

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ I whispered. He ignored me.

‘ My name is Special Agent Elliot Kash. I’m a highly trained counter-terrorism expert, specialising in Islamic terrorism and insurgency. I’ve spent years in Iraq and Afghanistan gathering surveillance and intel on lone-wolf and sleeper-cell development.’

The crowd stirred. The bartender slammed a pint glass down.

‘Because of my specialist experience,’ Kash said, ‘I can tell you the kind of thing we’re looking for. You need to keep an eye out for someone you know who’s been acting strange lately. Maybe spending more time than usual on their own or on their computer. Ask yourself if someone in your household has gained a sudden interest in organised religion, particularly Islam, or if they’ve been making aggressive political statements. Have they withdrawn from their circle of friends? Are they making or receiving private phone calls in the middle of the night? Hypervigilance is the key here, people. Be aware, and if you see something, say something.’

‘Terrorists,’ someone at the back murmured. ‘I bloody knew it.’

‘That Taby kid’s always on that laptop,’ someone else said. ‘You see him around town with it. That’s how they radicalise them. The internet. The videos. The chat rooms.’

I all but yanked Kash off the stage as he tried to wrap up. He seemed confused by my fury. I pushed him out the pub door and into the shade of the awning.





Chapter 24


‘YOU ARE GOING to panic the people of this town.’ I shoved his chest. ‘There is no evidence of organised terrorism in this case so far. None!’

‘Maybe not to your eyes,’ Kash said. ‘You don’t have the training, or the experience. This is how lone wolves operate. They hide out in small regional towns where their activities don’t raise suspicion, and they experiment, honing their skills, until they can move on to bigger targets.’

I tried to breathe evenly. Snale exited the pub, shoulders hunched, embarrassed by the public display of antagonism. I had to salvage this situation, if not for the case, for the town’s perception of city law enforcement. Threatening Kash, shouting at him, wasn’t working. His skull was too thick, trapping messages outside his tiny brain. I needed to be calm. Reason with him.

‘You know,’ I said, ‘my training is in Sex Crimes. I live it. I breathe it. I spend my every waking moment dealing with it. So when a victim or a witness comes to me and tells me their story, my natural instinct is to believe what I’ve been trained to believe – that a crime has occurred.’

‘I don’t see where this is going,’ Kash broke in. I took a moment to visualise myself punching him in the face, then closed my eyes and carried on.

‘But sometimes,’ I said slowly, ‘very rarely, a crime hasn’t occurred. Someone is lying, or they’re mistaken. I have to make sure that I approach every situation with an open mind, and look at the evidence, before I form any conclusions.’

‘So?’ Kash shrugged.

‘So you’ve assumed there’s a terrorist in this town without any evidence to support that. And worse, you’ve just warned these people to look out for someone acting strangely, who’s withdrawn, moody, and who gets phone calls late at night. You know who that sounds like? It sounds like every fucking teenager I’ve ever met.’

‘Radicalists often target teens,’ Kash said. ‘They’re usually already despondent, disenfranchised. Vulnerable to the ideas of terrorist organisations.’

I turned to Snale, who was watching Kash with the kind of confused awe reserved for audiences of the truly mad.

‘Find me Zac Taby,’ I said. ‘We need to get to him before someone else does.’





Chapter 25


I STOOD FUMING while Snale went back to the house to get the four-wheel drive. I couldn’t so much as look at Kash, who was now talking to Mayor Dez, probably giving him a run-down of covert surveillance tactics in the rural environment. I was steadily becoming exhausted. It seemed the further I got from the city, my home, the harder it was to breathe. Already the midday sun was baking the air, making it feel like steam in my lungs. Seven days, I thought. It’s only seven days.