The Marmalade Files by Steve Lewis & Chris Uhlmann Read Free Book Online Page B

bottles, was always spotlessly clean – and tastefully finished with Vogue -like touches.
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    First, Zhou Dejiang, Gordon thought. An impressive CV sprang to life, courtesy of his access to Chinese data and his fluency in Mandarin. Much of it was already known to him; he had memorised the names and spouses of most of the top ranks of the Chinese Politburo – the murderers and torturers who controlled the daily lives of the mighty nation’s 1.3 billion folk.
    Okay, thought Gordon, we know about his upbringing, his graduation from the University of Peking, a stint at London’sSchool of Economics – his first taste of the West – his return to Beijing and the long march to the upper levels of the Chinese Communist regime. But what was the photo trying to tell us? What were his links with Paxton? Where did they start and where did they lead?
    Gordon punched in ‘Bruce Paxton’ to see what would emerge, and wasn’t disappointed when a lengthy list was displayed on his main screen. Database One was doing its job, uploading line after line of useful information about Paxton’s early career in the United Mineworkers, his elevation to the helm of the powerful union, his first taste of notoriety after a march on the West Australian Parliament got out of hand and Paxton and a few of his cronies ended up in the back of a paddy wagon on the way to an overnight stay in Perth Central.
    Another coffee was needed, a caffeine hit to get the brain into gear. Even security analysts succumbed to the lazy tones of a Sunday afternoon. Gordon had made slow progress, but patience and diligence were the keys to good intelligence gathering. The most valuable breakthroughs rarely came without hour upon hour of often tedious research and mind-numbing checking. This task would be no different.
    Zhou Dejiang and Bruce Paxton – what was the link? Was there a hidden meaning?
    Gordon kept on searching, urging his machinery to spit out something that would offer a hint on a relationship that led – where?
    And the mystery third face in the photo? That would need another kind of software: face recognition technology. Australia’sintelligence community – flush with funds after 9/11 – had invested heavily in this software breakthrough. The Australian Federal Police, ASIS, ASIO and even some of the States had rolled it out. Gordon had been impressed when shown how it worked and had managed to persuade a contact at the AFP to ‘lend’ him a shadow program.
    Now it was time to put this sucker into action. Harry Dunkley, he knew, had been making inquiries of his own about Zhou Dejiang, but the two had made little headway on the third face, and that was hurting like hell.
    The original pic lay on the table before him. He scanned it and highlighted the face of the unknown third man, before revving up the application. The minutes ticked by, the software refusing to give up the man’s identity.
    â€˜C’mon, my friend,’ Gordon coaxed.
    Yet another fill of coffee – and the screen had frozen on two images. The scan of the original photo and a match.
    Zheng Wang. The name meant nothing to Gordon and, irritatingly, the program had spat out only those two words. He keyed them into another database, and an immediate jumble of information appeared. ‘My God, there are a lot of you.’
    He scrolled through page after page of Zheng Wangs, none with accompanying photos. After a fruitless thirty minutes, he made a note of the file before closing down his computer network.
    He made for his hall cupboard, a splendid seventeenth-century French piece crafted from solid oak, to grab a scarf and his favourite cashmere jacket.
    A walk in the brisk Canberra air was called for, to clear the head and get the circulation flowing in feet which had been cramped by a new pair of Tods.
    He would deliver the name of the third man to Dunkley, let his friend take on the quest to find the meaning in