The divine word will be struck from the sky, One who cannot proceed further will come, The secret then closed up with revelation, Such that they will march ahead.
Century II Quatrain27 - Nostradamus
Chapter twenty six
The Plan
Christopher Golde
Date: 9th June 1996 Location: Sydney, Australia
Pietta froze as she heard footsteps approaching the cubicles, one of which she was hiding in. She knew that if she was discovered, Fujimo would have no option but to murder her as well and the only way out seemed to be to put up a fight.
Her mind struggled, desperately looking for options. She looked down at her hands, noticing she was still holding the piece of toilet tissue that she had intended to cover the toilet seat with. She dropped it immediately.
‘At worst,’ she thought, ‘I do not want to die with toilet tissue in my hands, let alone in this cubicle. No,’ she decided with determination,’ I am not going to die.’
She could hear the footsteps getting closer and then with a loud crash, one of the cubicles along the row from hers was slammed open and her whole body stiffened in fear. She looked desperately around her for something, but what? Then she saw her bag hanging on the back of the door at eye level.
‘There must be something in a girl’s handbag that could be used,’ she thought desperately.
Slowly, she lifted the bag from the hook, when suddenly, there was another ear-shattering crash, as the next cubicle door in the row exploded inward and she almost lost her tenuous grip on the bag’s strap. With this, she started to move quicker and opened the bag, shuffling tremulously through its contents.
‘Hairbrush, moisturizer, lipstick, blush brush, tampons, cellular phone, tweezers, scissors, wait, phone, what could she do apart from a call for help?’
Then she remembered, it was indeed a long shot, but it could buy her time. She had Fujimo’s business card here somewhere, from when she first introduced herself to him earlier in the evening.
‘Here it is,’ she silently sighed with relief, as she pulled out her business card folder.
‘Good thing I keep the business side of my handbag more organized than the personal side,’ she thought, as she flicked through them and quickly came to his.
As another door crashed inwards, she fumbled with the phone, typing the quickest text message she had ever written. About two cubicles to go, she guessed. She typed in the number from his business card and hoped he had it with him,
‘All business people do, of course,’ she reasoned optimistically.
Another door crashed inwards and she clicked on send. Within seconds she heard a phone beep loudly from outside the cubicles.
‘Yes!’ she cheered to herself, as she kept searching her bag for another idea.
Outside the row of cubicles, Ieko Fujimo cleaned the blade protruding from his sleeve and pushed it back into position. The weapon clicked into its catch. He then reached inside his jacket and removed his cell phone. He saw immediately that he had a message and a number from which it came, but he did not recognize the number. Clicking on the message he read, ‘Need 2 meet u urgent per Macram will freshen n meet u outside ladies room now Pietta Chong’
He read the message again; then looked along the row of cubicles.
‘Still two to go,’ he considered, then looked back at the body lying in a pool of blood on the floor. He knew who Pietta Chong was and he assumed this was the ladies room she meant. It would not do to have her come in now, not while he was here like this. He looked back at the cubicles; it was all quiet.
Inside the cubicle, Pietta stopped going through her handbag, and froze, all was quiet. She stood absolutely still for what seemed like an eternity. The handbag was awkwardly positioned under one arm and she had the cellular phone in the other. She listened and heard nothing. She couldn’t handle it anymore, she would lean forward, ever so carefully. She just might be able to see what was going on through the crack between the door and the frame of the cubicle.
As Pietta began moving forward, a makeup pen that had been displaced when she had shuffled through her belongings, was also moving closer to the edge of the bag. She leaned forward, closer and closer, and the angle of the bag brought the pen to the edge where it teetered ready at any moment to fall. Oblivious to the impending catastrophe, she continued her gradual forward motion, inch by breathless inch, closer and closer to the small gap in the door. Just as the view outside the cubicle was coming into line, the wayward makeup pen caught her eye, but all too late. Falling from the bag, the pen tumbled in what seemed like slow motion towards the ground. Her heart stopped.
End over end, the eyeliner plummeted towards the beckoning floor of the cubicle. Adrenalin rushed through her thought processes. She was about to die if that pen hit the ground. In a reaction of instinct rather than a planned thought, she lifted her foot to intercept the path of the falling pencil. The pen tumbled petulantly onwards soon to crash loudly upon the hard surface of the toilet floor. Her foot moved up towards the falling eyeliner while she balanced precariously on the other. It was a million to one, maybe even more, but when the eyeliner landed on the top of her foot it hit at such an angle, that it slid into an opening in the top of her shoe. The head of the pencil lodged itself neatly into the gap between her middle toes and stopped. She swallowed and dared not move another inch.
‘Thank God I wore open shoes today,’ she thought, as she looked incredulously at the pencil protruding from her toes.
Balanced now on one leg, with her handbag under one arm and her phone in the other, she waited. Still, there was silence.
‘Maybe I did not hear anything,’ Fujimo decided, still looking along the line of cubicles, ‘better get out of here now, in case she turns up.’
He turned, walking to the door, stepping wide of the body. He put the phone in his pocket and pulled the door back slightly, taking a quick look outside before exiting.
Pietta heard the footsteps leaving, then the door closed and she sighed with relief. It had worked even better than she had hoped, but now let’s hope he does not wait outside. Maybe another message to tell him about a change of meeting place, she reached again into her bag for the phone. Then she heard the door of the restroom open again and she braced herself.
‘Why had he come back,’ she wondered?
There was a shrill scream. Now she at least knew it was not him. Someone else had discovered the body.
After the scream, she heard a female voice in panic.
“Oh, my God,” the voice repeated hysterically. “Oh, my God!”
Pietta listened as the door slammed shut and all was quiet again. She quickly opened the cubicle and looked out. The room was empty apart from the black figure lying prone on the floor circled by a dark red pool of blood.
‘Must act quickly,’ she thought, ‘and get the hell out of here. If I am connected to the body, it could be worse for me. If I’m found here, Fujimo would eventually realize it must have been me in the cubicle. And besides, too many questions.’
She walked past the body, trying not to look, and opened the door with her sleeve over her hand, then glanced quickly down the hall leading away from the restrooms. She could hear voices in the distance, but still, no-one coming. She quickly darted down the hall in the opposite direction, hoping Fujimo had also not used this exit. At the end was a door that said ‘Emergency Exit’ and she tried it. It was open, so she entered and found herself standing in a stairwell with stairs going up and down.
‘If Fujimo had used this way then he would most likely have chosen down, so I’m, going up,’ she reasoned.
Once up one level, she opened a door leading back into the building and found herself in another hall, completely empty.
‘Good,’ she thought, ‘now all I have to do is find a way out.’
She walked down the hall and came to a door that led into a group of offices, where she soon realized that she was in the shipping terminal above the restaurant.
‘At least it will have an exit to the outside passenger entrance,’ she assumed.
After searching for about ten minutes, she eventually found an exit that brought her outside the building onto platforms that would normally be used to board passengers onto cruise ships. Today there were no cruise ships, so the landing was completely empty.
She could see across the water to the Opera House where there were people on the steps leading to the entrance. Along the walkways, there were several couples enjoying a leisurely Saturday evening stroll and she wished that’s where she could be right about now. Looking around, she saw a ramp that was probably used for baggage and figured that if she could make it down there somehow, she would be on the ground.
She heard a commotion down below and then a siren in the distance, which she assumed would be coming this way.
‘Might be a good time to leave,’ she thought as she stepped forward onto the ramp.
The steep incline forced her to almost run down until her high heels caused her to trip and tumble. She half fell, half rolled, to the bottom where she wasted no time picking herself up and trying to look normal,
‘If that was possible,’ she laughed to herself.
“Well, well,” said a voice behind her.
Startled, she spun around. Standing only a short distance from her, looking quite bemused, was Jason King.
“I have had girls try and get out of dates with me in some unusual ways,” he said smiling, “but this about takes the cake.”
She blushed and looked at him alarmed.
“No, no, that’s not…”
“That’s okay,” he rescued her again, “I was only joking, I am sure there is a completely rational explanation for you rolling down that ramp away from the function.”
“Well, you probably wouldn’t believe it, but,” she looked from side to side then behind him, “can we go somewhere else and discuss this?”
“Oh, most certainly,” he said, walking towards her, offering his hand, “I wouldn’t miss this explanation for all the tea in China.”
She took his hand and began to walk with a slight limp.
“We had better go this way,” she indicated.
“Whatever you say, I am all yours.”
` They turned and walked along the edge of the waterway, she was limping and occasionally looked back over her shoulder at the restaurant. She wondered what Fujimo had made of her message.
Back at the restaurant, a crowd had gathered around the restroom corridor and the ambulance officers were pushing their way through the throng. Ieko Fujimo looked down the corridor from the rear, wondering what had happened to Pietta Chong. He assumed if she was not in the group, she may have left after the body was discovered.
‘Maybe she found the body,’ he thought, ‘just as well I left when I did. At least our company’s launch would get into all the newspapers,’ he mused, ‘and I can call Pietta Chong tomorrow, hopefully, she has some good news about Macram.’
In the lounge area of the Regent Hotel, just across the road from Circular Quay, Jason King and Pietta Chong looked at each other from opposite sides of the table. Both had a coffee in front of them and both looked serious as they chatted. Pietta had told him what happened back at the function and Jason was listening intently.
“That’s incredible,” Jason said at last, “what will you do now?”
”Warn Bill Gatwick,” she said most seriously.
She did not even know why she had told so much to this guy, she had only just met him.
‘He seems okay,’ she thought,’ it feels right for some reason.’
“I will have to go to the States to see him and tell him personally, I don’t want to say this sort of thing on the phone,” she continued.
“What about the police,” he asked?
“I can’t get involved, and if I do report it, how would I do that without Fujimo knowing it was me in the cubicle?”
She looked at him worried by even the thought of that prospect.
“Unfortunately, he will probably call me and want to meet after my message to him.”
“Just leave tonight,” Jason reasoned, “then you will have an excuse not to talk to him before you see Gatwick.”
“I will,” she said looking more at ease.
“I will go tonight and then it will give me more time to think about things.”
She looked worried again.
“But there won’t be any flights now!”
“Don’t worry,’ he said reassuringly, “there is a daily late nighter to LA and I have a friend in the airline. How do two first-class tickets to LA sound?”
“Two,” she said, looking suspicious?
“You don’t think I would miss this opportunity do you,” he answered with a cheeky grin?
“Already, I think you’re incorrigible and I am suspicious of your personal agenda,” she said, as she smiled.
“Purely humanitarian,” he said, faking insult, “we have to warn the great man himself and I want to be part of the rescue team, and at the same time protect you from harm.”
She grinned.
‘Even if he is suspect in his motives why should I mind?’ she thought to herself with a smile.