Private Sydney (Private 12)

‘It would help us to know a little about Mr Moss’s routine, especially with travelling to and from Contigo,’ I said, pleased Mary had gained his confidence.

‘I always had the plane at the terminal, ready for take-off as soon as Mr Moss arrived.’

At the four-seater Duchess, Geoff hesitated. ‘All staff were issued with advice from Sir Lang not to talk to private investigators.’

‘We don’t want you getting into trouble, but we have real concerns for Eric’s safety.’ Mary made the powerful point.

The pilot shoved both hands in his pockets and his eyes focused on the plane wheels. ‘He gave me a job when I was let go from a commercial airline. He’s been good to me from the start.’

Moss’s intentions may have been noble, or he deliberately recruited people who were at a disadvantage and most likely to be compliant.

I asked why Moss chose the Duchess.

‘His work was unpredictable. The Duchess is the most efficient way to get him around.’ He proudly touched the wing. ‘Extra instrumentation means she’s more capable in rough conditions. We’re over the Blue Mountains to and from Contigo, so he wanted something that could fly even in bad weather.’

The pilot asked Mary which military bases she had worked on, which quickly segued into which installations he had flown Moss to. The list was extensive.

‘I thought he spent most of his time in Contigo Valley,’ I ventured.

‘True, but there are frequent short flights. Anything from one to four a week.’

‘To the bases?’ Mary was almost drowned out by a plane taking off.

Geoff explained, ‘Often Mr Moss is in transit at the bases. Sometimes I see the other plane he’s meeting. Otherwise I leave him alone to wait on the runway.’

The notion struck me as odd. ‘How do you mean alone? With the people he was meeting?’

‘Funny thing, I never saw anyone else. Not even the other pilot. My instructions were to wait in the lounge if he was gone for a few hours. Otherwise, I’d fly home and then go back for him. The longest he was away was three days.’

‘Anyone return with him?’

‘Not that I saw. He was always standing there alone when I arrived to pick him up.’

‘What did he take with him? Luggage? Did he bring anything back?’ The whole thing seemed highly suspicious to me.

‘He only ever had the same duffel bag. Khaki, about so big.’ He made a shape about 60 centimetres wide and 30 centimetres high.

The bag wasn’t large enough to fit much of anything in apart from a laptop and maybe a change of clothes. ‘Do you know what was in it?’

‘Never saw. That thing didn’t leave his side. He always insisted on carrying it himself.’

I now understood how Moss had managed to leave the country without a passport. He was using military planes, which meant there was no available record of where he’d been.

Yet we still had no idea who Moss actually was, or who he was really working for.

Chapter 65

JOHNNY FELT THIS was the break they needed to find Louise’s killer, and baby Zoe. He entered the radiology practice in Manly where a series of ultrasounds had been billed to Louise Simpson’s Medicare number and credit card. She was a victim of identity and medical fraud. Paying her bills automatically meant it could have gone on indefinitely if the amounts weren’t enough to raise suspicion and Louise didn’t scrutinise every transaction. Like most people, she seemed to have just scheduled payments to avoid late fees.

Johnny suspected the fraudster was using other identities as well. This imposter knew not to be greedy and risk exposure. Otherwise, she could have cleaned out Louise Simpson’s account, taken out loans and financially ruined her for the sake of a quick pay-off. This woman had other plans. Surrogacy was her way of leeching money from desperate couples. They could hardly report her to the police if things went sour, given their involvement was illegal.

A soap opera blared on a large TV screen to a waiting room full of children and elderly people.

Johnny joined the queue at the reception desk, wondering if he should have done medicine after all. The radiology business was booming.

‘Request form?’ A middle-aged woman held out her hand without looking up.

‘I’m not here for an X-ray. I need to see whoever’s in charge,’ Johnny began.