The Crocodile Nest (14 page)

As Chizza and Luke travelled to the creek, Ellie was close to finishing up for the day. There was still no email response from Brian in Auckland. Should she give him a ring? Yes, it was time they got some things sorted out. She wanted this all over before her bosses came up from Brisbane early next week.

The DDI number got an out-of-office reply. She left a message as requested, but realized that with the time difference there was little chance of any response before morning.

Thinking that a reply might have come to Luke’s mailbox, she went looking for him. He wasn’t anywhere in The Nest, nor in the pool, so she went to the workshop to check his room. Andy was there, sharpening a spade.

‘Is Luke in his room?’ Ellie asked.

‘Nah. Haven’t seen him all day. Don’t know what he’s up to. Sorry, luv.’

‘If he comes back, could you pass a message on for me? Tell
him I’ve had no reply from Brian.’

‘Sure thing. But I’m off in a moment—maybe you should leave a note in his room?’

Ellie decided to check with Ham first. On her way back to the office, she called into the restaurant. Ham was flat-out getting salads ready for the dinner rush. Her heart seemed to miss a couple of beats. Ever since she’d first arrived at The Crocodile Nest, her feelings for Ham had been growing stronger. It was for him, more than anything else, that she wanted this business with Chizza cleared up quickly.

‘Ham!’ she called over the counter.

He looked up and gave her a wonderful smile. ‘Hi. I was just thinking about you.’

With an effort, Ellie pushed her feelings to one side. ‘Have you seen Luke?’

Ham shook his head. ‘Sorry, Ellie. Not since breakfast.’ He looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘Didn’t he say he was having dinner over at the Reef Sands? Maybe he’s already gone there.’ He gave a little chuckle. ‘He’s got his eye on Lora—more than likely that’s where he’ll be.’

‘Yes, maybe it is.’ A pause. ‘Will I see you later?’

‘If you want.’

She gave an eager nod, before returning to the office. For a moment she considered giving the Reef Sands Resort a call, but decided to let Luke enjoy his night out with his girlfriend. It wouldn’t make a lot of difference if she spoke to him that night or in the morning. It was already too late for the police to come up from Cairns today. Best to leave everything until morning.

By the time they turned onto the dirt track, Luke was wishing he hadn’t come. Not because Chizza was any less friendly—quite the opposite. The man seemed too pleased and satisfied; as if things were working out just the way he’d planned. Plus all the clothes on the seat behind, and the boxes tied down to the deck, suggested that after they’d seen the crocodile Chizza was going somewhere other than home.

Then there were the letters sitting in the tray between the two front seats—probably about forty or fifty of them. Each time the vehicle turned a corner, the letters would fan from side to side, allowing Luke to sneak a glimpse at the addresses. They were to places all over the world: Japan, Germany, the UK, the USA, New Zealand…Either Chizza had lots of friends or he did business in lots of different countries.

The launching place looked no different to when they’d left the night before. Nothing had happened during the day. Last night, the isolation hadn’t worried Luke; now, it seemed threatening.

As Chizza concentrated on backing the boat trailer into the water, Luke let his hand slide over to the letters. He picked up one and felt along it with his fingers. There can’t have been much inside, because it flexed quite easily. That was until his fingers got to the end and found something stiff: something about the size and feel of credit card. Now Luke knew what they were: they were Chizza’s letters to his mules around world. Maybe he sent off lots every week, but Luke thought not. This number
suggested he was rushing to finish all the scams he could before disappearing.

‘What is happening?’

Luke jumped.

‘What is happening?’ repeated Chizza. ‘Do I have enough room that side?’

‘Um, ah!’ Luke turned around in his seat. ‘Looks like it. Yeah, it’s OK. The trailer’s already in the water.’

‘Good! Then come,’ said Chizza, ‘I will need help with the launching.’ He pulled the handbrake on and left the cab. A moment later, Luke followed.

It took only a couple of minutes to get the boat off the trailer and floating in the water.

‘You hold, while I park,’ said Chizza.

Luke held the boat steady, wondering if it might be better if he let the thing go so that it floated away. That way he wouldn’t have to get onto the boat. Visiting Crazy Hazel didn’t seem so important anymore. He considered telling Chizza that, but instead took out his phone and sent a text to Lora:

Gon 2 c crazy hazel nest wth chizza. Cu@8.

Just as he was pressing send, Chizza returned. ‘What are you doing?’ The tone was no longer as friendly as before.

‘Sending a text to Lora. I’m meeting her for dinner later.’

‘What did it say?’

‘Just that I was going to see Crazy Hazel’s nest.’

‘Did you say my name?’

‘Yeah.’

Chizza gave Luke a black look. ‘Give me the phone,’ he said quietly.

Luke looked at the display to check that the message had gone. It had!

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s already gone.’

Suddenly Chizza lunged forward, grabbing Luke by the wrist. The phone fell to the ground. Without letting go of Luke, Chizza leant over, picked it up and then threw it far out into the estuary.

‘You will not need that anymore,’ he growled. ‘Now get into the boat.’

Before Luke had a chance to struggle, the big man had lifted him high enough so that he toppled onto the deck. A moment later, Chizza had pushed the boat from the shore and was clambering aboard.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Luke, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

Chizza didn’t answer until after the motor was started and they were well clear of the shore. ‘Nothing that should cause you harm.’ He paused. ‘I will put you on an island while I go to get something.’

‘Why?’

‘I want the disks that you made on the computer this morning.’

‘There are no disks,’ said Luke.

‘Yes, there are: two of them. And you will tell me where they are. Then I will go to get them. If they are where you say, then I will come back quickly, and take you off the island and let you
have dinner with your girlfriend.’ He waited for some reaction from Luke. When none came, he went on: ‘If not, I will leave you there. It will get dark. The crocodiles will come and you can have dinner with them instead. You will be the main course.’ He laughed crazily at his joke—so loudly that birds feeding on the bank took to the air.

‘It does not matter to me which happens,’ he continued. ‘If I get the disks, you will stay alive. If not, then you die and the disks are lost forever. It is for you to decide, Luke. Live or die—it is your choice.’

Lora was sitting in the bar of the Reef Sands Resort, surrounded by people—thirteen of them. Not one of them would have been under sixty. Most had a drink in front of them and, even though few of the drinks were alcoholic, the oldies were all in high spirits.

Beth had brought them together to hear their views about tourism for older folk. She was working on her plan for something in Whitianga. Lora’s job was to take notes, and there were plenty of those.

‘My main gripe,’ said a large woman from America, ‘is that I can’t get T-shirts that fit.’ She pointed in the direction of the resort shop. ‘They’ve got lovely things with a local flavour, but you’ve got to be anorexic to fit into them. It’s the same everywhere.’

A long discussion about clothing sizes followed, which Lora tried to record accurately, even though it seemed to go all over the place.

Then out of the blue, an elderly man who had not spoken before yelled ‘Lavatories!’

Everyone stopped talking and turned to him. ‘What about lavatories?’ asked Beth.

‘There aren’t enough of them at these tourist places. When I’ve gotta go, I’ve gotta go. The sphincter’s getting a bit weak these days. And if I have to rush off to find a place, it just makes things worse.’

There were a few little nods of sympathy, but nobody was prepared to admit that they had the same problem. Lora smiled and wrote:

Toilets: old sphincters get tired.

She was about to draw a little diagram alongside when her phone chimed, indicating that a text had arrived. It was from Luke: he’d gone with Chizza to see Crazy Hazel’s nest. She felt a surge of annoyance that he was going anywhere with that man, especially seeing they had a date tonight. However, she relaxed when, checking the time, she saw that there was more than three hours to go. Plenty of time for Luke to see Crazy Hazel and get ready for their date.

She turned her attention back to the old people, who were now discussing pills. Apparently it was a real hassle to get replacement pills when you’d left yours at the last hotel. From what they said, Lora figured that half of these people were kept alive only by the marvels of modern medication—miss out on a day and you ended up dead.

Luke sat in the boat trying to sort out his options, which wasn’t easy with Chizza talking non-stop. The man seemed determined to prove how clever he was.

‘Everything you did on those computers was recorded in a log file,’ he was saying. ‘Every keystroke, every email, even your pathetic attempts to get into the system files. All I had to do was look at the daily log and I knew what you did.’

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ Luke whispered to himself. ‘You are just so smart, aren’t you?’

‘So when I find that I have been tricked into leaving the computers at The Nest, I come back and check the log. And what do I find? I find that someone has copied the system files. “So who would that be?” I asked myself. There is only one person, and he is that meddling little boy who thinks he knows so much. The boy who is waiting for a reply from his friend Brian so that he can go to the cops.’ He gave a humourless laugh. ‘But I know that Brian has already answered, because I have checked that boy’s emails and deleted the answer.’ He turned to face Luke. ‘You see, I knew your email address even before you got here. As soon as Ham sent you my program I knew about you and have been watching ever since. You can’t beat me, because I am much too clever. So, you will tell me where the disks are hidden. Yes?’

No,
thought Luke. Not yet anyway. Not until he really had to. Not until the very last minute.

All this time they had been slowly moving up the creek. If anyone had been looking from the shore, they would have
thought the two of them in the boat were out for a leisurely evening cruise, maybe out bird-watching. But there was no one on the shore. The estuary was their’s alone, apart from the birds that were now coming in to roost, a few fish, and of course the crocodiles that were yet to reveal themselves.

‘We will soon be there, Luke,’ said Chizza, pointing to the island directly in front of them. He throttled back the engine. ‘Now is the time to tell me, before it is too late.’

‘I posted them to the police,’ said Luke.

Chizza shook his head. ‘No, you are lying. You hid them and you will tell me where.’ There was now more urgency in the man’s voice.

‘If I tell you, how will I know that you’ll come back and get me?’

‘You will have to trust me.’

Luke shook his head.

‘I do not want you to die,’ said Chizza, earnestly. ‘But those disks are important to me. If the cops get them, then everyone will know my methods and I will not be able to use the same programs at the next place. So tell me where they are. Then you will have to stay out here only for a small time before I return to get you.’ The man was almost pleading with him.

‘No!’

Chizza’s face flushed red with anger. ‘Then I will put you on that island, and you can die there.’ He thrust the throttle forward, revving the motor. With that, the front of the boat rose dangerously, and the doors on several of the lockers fell open. Their contents spilled onto the deck, where they slid noisily
towards the stern, forming a heap near the bung-hole. Tools, fishing tackle, boating gear, and in the middle of it all was the gun.

For a moment, both of them stared at the heap, taking it in. Then Chizza pulled the throttle lever right back, allowing the boat to settle into the water. The heap slid forward a little, leaving the rifle to sit on its own.

As Luke looked at the rifle, his mind was working overtime. Was this his chance? Was it his way out of here?

‘Scared of it, aren’t you?’ sneered Chizza, stepping towards the stern.

Suddenly, Luke threw himself onto the deck and scrambled to the back. In an instant, the rifle was in his hands and his hand was on the trigger.

Chizza stopped and glared at him for a moment. Then he let out another of his crazy laughs.

‘So what are you going to do now, smart boy?’ He moved forward until he was just a metre away, towering over Luke. ‘Go on,’ he taunted, ‘pull the trigger.’

Without taking his eyes off Chizza, Luke felt for the cocking lever, found it and gave it a pull.

Chizza took a step back. For a second or so his sneer was tinged with a touch of fear. He recovered enough to say, ‘So? What next?’

In answer, Luke slid the safety catch off.

Again Chizza showed fear, but he held his ground.

‘Move back!’ said Luke.

‘No!’

Luke pointed the rifle into the air and pulled the trigger.

The blast shocked him as much as it did Chizza. Every bird in the estuary seemed to start screeching wildly. The echo went back and forth, bouncing off the mangrove trees. When everything settled down, Chizza had moved back as asked, and Luke was on his feet, with the rifle held in front of him, pointed at the deck.

‘Now take me home,’ he ordered, attempting to sound like someone in control.

For a time it looked as though Chizza would do just that. He moved to the wheel and restarted the stalled motor. He even turned the boat and travelled downstream for a bit. But then he had second thoughts, and turned around until once again they were heading towards the island.

‘Turn back!’ shouted Luke.

In answer, Chizza took his hands from the wheel and spun around to glare at Luke. ‘You will not shoot me,’ he said. ‘Look—you cannot even point it at me. Go on! Point it at me.’

Luke tried and couldn’t.

‘See!’ Chizza jeered. ‘With you the rifle is useless.’ He moved towards the stern, leaving the boat to drive itself. ‘Give it to me.’

Luke didn’t know what to do. Should he shoot in the air again? Before he’d sorted out what to do, Chizza was standing right in front of him.

‘Give!’ ordered Chizza, holding out his hands.

Suddenly Luke knew what to do: he couldn’t let the man have the gun. In Chizza’s hands it would not be useless: he would have no problems pointing it at a person, and Luke knew who that
person would be. The gun had to go over the side.

Chizza must have read his thoughts, because Luke had scarcely moved when the big man was upon him, clutching at the rifle. Luke lunged towards the side of the boat, still in control of the weapon, but unable to free his arms enough to throw the thing. If he dropped it on the deck, it might go off. He had to get close enough to the side to drop it into the water.

Again he lunged sideways. For a moment Chizza’s feet got tangled in all the gear on the deck and Luke was almost free. Now the rifle was over the side. He let go. At the same time Chizza leapt at him, roaring like a lion. The boat heaved over dangerously, tipping them closer to the water.

They would have been all right if Chizza had pulled back then. Instead, he thrust out an arm to grab at the rifle which was about to disappear below the surface. His fingers touched the stock without getting a grip. He thrust with his legs, causing the boat to tilt even further. This time he got a hold. Unfortunately, by then more of his body was outside the boat than in—there was no way he could get back. As he slid over the side, he stretched out with his free arm and grabbed Luke’s clothes, dragging him down, too. For a moment Luke managed to hold onto the side, before the weight of the man became too much and he fell into the water. He went under, dragged down by the surge of water from the propeller as the motor moved past.

When he eventually surfaced, the boat was well out of reach, motoring quietly upstream. Chizza had started swimming towards the shore, still holding the rifle even though it meant he could do little more than a sidestroke. Luke weighed up his
options. The closest land was the island, probably less than fifty metres away. The shore was more than double that distance. Swimming there would mean more time in the water—more time exposed to the crocodiles. And even if he got there, Chizza and the gun would be waiting for him.

He made his decision, and set off for the island. At first he did freestyle, but when he saw how much that disturbed the water he changed to a gentle breaststroke, hoping that the crocodiles of the estuary were still enjoying their afternoon nap. If they stayed that way for a while, he might still have a chance.