Big Hollos was easy to pick. He was wearing a sleeveless, multicoloured vest and had one piece of brown hand luggage. Cavalier put down his coffee, hustled to his car, drove out of the car park, and then circled until he was positioned behind the taxis meandering in to pick up passengers. Again, Cavalier did not have to use binoculars to pick out Hollos, who stood out in the line of people waiting for taxis.

The line moved slowly. An airport official tapped Cavalier’s driver door window and indicated he should move on. Hollos got into a taxi. Cavalier drove off, keeping a few cars between him and the taxi, which seemed in a hurry to reach a five-star hotel on St Kilda Boulevard in familiar territory for Cavalier. He waited across a park and used his binoculars to watch Hollos stop just inside the glass door entrance. He was on the phone. Then a second taxi pulled up. Out stepped Leni and Castro. They headed to the reception and checked in.

Cavalier used his mobile to ring hotel reception. A woman answered.

‘Oh, hi,’ Cavalier said in a cheery voice. ‘I’ve just dropped off two people from overseas and they asked me to pick them up. I can’t remember if they wanted me back tomorrow or the next day.’

‘Must be tomorrow, sir,’ the receptionist said. ‘They check out at 9 a.m.’

‘For an 11 a.m. flight?’

‘They didn’t say.’

‘Thank you very much.’

Cavalier rang Haut.

‘Get a good night’s sleep tonight,’ he said. ‘Your overseas mates will be in Hobart tomorrow about noon.’

Cavalier explained how he had tracked them.

‘Do we have any idea of where they’ll stay in Hobart?’

‘Wrest Point Casino is my bet. They love drinking and gambling. On the Mekong, I heard them discussing the casinos they’d been to around the world. They boasted how they dropped this amount and that, how they won it all back. Usual gamblers’ self-delusion.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’ll be in Hobart before them.’

‘Where will you stay?’

‘With you.’

34 TOWER OF FATE

34

TOWER OF FATE

It was grey and raining when Cavalier took a taxi from Hobart airport to Sandy Bay. The chatty Indian driver described the sights on the way in an attempt to draw him into conversation. Cavalier nodded, smiled, grunted replies and otherwise remained quiet.

‘You visiting?’ the driver asked, looking in the rear-vision mirror.

Cavalier nodded.

‘Staying with a friend?’

Cavalier smiled.

‘Must be a wealthy friend to live up there at the top,’ the driver said as they left Sandy Bay Road and drove into Churchill Avenue past Alexandra Battery Park. ‘Some of the houses up there are amazing, with the best views of the water and across the bay.’