- Vol. 04
- Chapter 12
No Hiding Place
It came, as things often do, through perseverance. I always knew I’d find you. Call it serendipity. But I never forget a face. And from a thousand feet up in a chopper there was little doubt it was you; Zeiss 20x60 image stabilising binoculars saw to that.
Like the Jackal, a master of disguise and forged documents, you fooled everyone: priest, attorney, chemist and now carpenter in Casuarina, New South Wales known to locals as Barry Evans – not Eddie Sweeney, bank robber. You had everyone fooled until that fatal error, drunk and bragging in a bar
framed perfectly on a Polaroid by Aunt Isabel last month. And now I’m here, with a crack team of detectives, circling above your inflatable dinghy in this idyllic beach setting, waiting for that moment when at last we have you in our grasp, in your final hiding place.