Free Sensitive New Age Spy by Geoffrey McGeachin Page A

than their fair share ofdenizens of the secret world. Maybe it was something in the porridge. I figured Mrs T had probably worked out some time back that things in my life weren’t exactly how they seemed, but she appeared to be content to play along.
    Nick Nairn had plated up his salmon and Mrs T switched to Sky News as I finished off my glass of red.
    ‘I thought you only watched the ABC news, Mrs T?’
    ‘I used to, dear, but now I like getting my news from Jacinta. She’s got such an honest wee face, don’t you think?’
    I had to agree, but it was the ashen face of Rupert Hall-Smith, the Defence Minister, that got my attention. He looked like death warmed over. According to the caption on the bottom of the screen, the Minister was speaking at a press conference recorded earlier in the afternoon at Sydney airport. The top brass of the New South Wales Police were lined up behind him, and none of them looked all that happy either.
    The press briefing commenced with the Minister putting on a pair of rimless glasses and reading from a prepared statement.
    ‘As you are no doubt aware, there was some excitement on the harbour this morning. Around three a.m. a ship experiencing mechanical difficulties entered the Heads and dropped anchor off Fort Denison to await repairs. Overreaction by an inexperienced police liaison officer resulted in local police and Defence Department anti-terrorism teams being mobilised, causing major disruption in the city. For this theNew South Wales Police Service apologises unreservedly.’
    Some of the top brass shuffled uncomfortably and stared down at their feet.
    ‘There will be a full inquiry at ministerial level,’ Hall-Smith went on, ‘and I am advised that the police officer in question will be stood down without pay until this investigation is complete.’
    Shit. Peter Sturdee’s head was on the chopping block and Hall-Smith was handing the police commissioner the axe.
    ‘Hmmphh. All sounds a bit fishy to me,’ Mrs T said. ‘Wouldn’t trust those politicians as far as I could throw them.’
    ‘I’m with you there, Mrs T.’
    ‘Also this morning,’ the Minister continued, ‘two crewmen from the disabled tanker were injured while trying to effect repairs. They were evacuated for medical treatment by a helicopter from the visiting US warship Altoona . We would like to thank the US Navy for its prompt assistance in this operation.’
    Well, that explained away the TV footage of the Yank chopper hovering over the tanker. Jesus, these bastards could spin anything.
    Hall-Smith finished with a brief mention of an unrelated accident onboard the US cruiser, and sent the government’s condolences to the families of the dead and injured. When Chapman Pergo walked up and stood next to the Minister it was pretty obvious the press conference was overand there’d be no questions, unless any members of the press corps were sniffing around for cancelled media accreditations and multiple fractures.
    The item ended, I said goodnight to Mrs T and reminded her to lock her door. Back at my place I dialled Peter’s home number. The phone was answered after exactly half a ring. ‘You in a lot of trouble, mate?’ I said.
    ‘Well, I’m suspended without pay pending an inquiry, which could be months away. Pergo’s quoting the new anti-terrorism laws, which no bugger understands and which seem to mean I can’t say anything in my own defence, so yes, I guess you could say I’m in a lot of trouble. I think the scenario involves the well-known creek and that barbed-wire canoe.’
    ‘You don’t think they’ll make all this go away when things calm down?’ That was the usual government practice when anything embarrassing like this came up.
    ‘Alby, every cop in this state senior to me was either out on their luxury cabin cruiser, living it up at their holiday home, or shacked up in some five-star hotel in Fiji with their mistress. All of them need a scalp to cover their arse, and right now my