‘That’s right. Touch and go for the bastard, though. That Jeppeson woman came within a rat’s foreskin of getting the closure stopped.’ Pixley started coughing and only stopped when he took a mouthful of gin and tonic. ‘Jesus, if it’s not one thing it’s another,’ he said weakly. ‘Can’t even take a piss any more without splashing my boots.’
‘And when the estate was sold, there was a bit of a barney over that, wasn’t there?’
Pixley studied me for a while. ‘You could say that. In spades.’
I said, ‘Pitman wanted to sell it without calling for tenders.’
‘That’s right. Stank like last week’s roadkill.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Well, people who knew Pitman didn’t swallow all the bullshit about we’ll never get an offer this high again if we put it out to tender until doomsday.’
‘What did they know about Pitman?’
He studied me some more, the tic going in his eye. Then he knocked back his drink and busied himself fixing another one. He poured me a beer in a clean glass without asking.
When he handed it to me, he said, ‘Let me tell you something about my life, Jack. I joined the party with my dad when he came back from the war. I was seventeen. I just missed the war. I wanted to go, lie about my age, be a hero, fight the bloody Japs. Mum wouldn’t hear of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to go without her blessing.’
He took a sip and studied his glass. ‘Four blokes in my class went. Just the one came back. You couldn’t recognise him. Just bones. A skeleton. Bobby Morrisey was his name, little fellow. Never well again in his life. Fucking Japs. There were lots of blokes like that around where we lived. Think the local MP would do anything for them? Not on your bloody life. Too busy fighting factional wars to give a bugger about the voters. Well, I ended up taking that seat from the bastard. No-one thought it was possible. There wasn’t even a branch of the party there when I joined. When I got into Parliament I did what I could for Bobby Morrisey and the others. Felt I owed it to them. Something personal, like they’d gone instead of me. Nonsense that, but there you are.’
I nodded. I didn’t see where this was going and time was running out before Mrs Pixley closed the proceedings.
Pixley did some more coughing. ‘What I need is a fucking smoke,’ he said. ‘Don’t have one on you? No. Bloody woman searches the house like the Gestapo. Bugger that. Thing is, Jack, I found it wasn’t an unusual thing to do, look after people. Sure, there were a lot of toffee-nosed dickheads on our side. But they weren’t in there to feather their own bloody nests, not in those years. That’s why I couldn’t understand people like Lance Pitman when they came in, when I realised what the cunts wanted out of politics.’
He looked away for a while, down the bar. Then he jerked his head around and said, ‘Nice house this, eh Jack? Cost a bit more than my super, you’ll say to yourself. That bastard Pitman put it around that it came out of graft. He’s still putting it around, every chance he gets. Well, I’ll tell you where it came out of. It came out of me mum’s will, that’s where. And she got it from Uncle Les when he died in Queensland. I’m not saying the old bastard was straight. I’m not saying he got it by the sweat of his brow. There’s a lot of stories about him. But it came to me out of the cleanest hands on earth.’
Pixley lapsed back into coughing. His eyes were streaming. The big bar clock said 12.15. I’d have to come back. I gestured and made to stand up. He waved me down.
‘Sit. I’m not done. Pitman. I’m talking about Pitman. You want to know about him? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’
I nodded.
‘This is all off the record, right? That bloody newspaper even suggests I’m a source, you’ll find out I’ve still got friends, understand me?’
I nodded again.
‘Yes, well, Lance Pitman. Mr Lucky, we used to call him. No bigger disgrace to the party ever walked. It means nothing to him, dogshit. He was a fucking little real estate agent out there in Allenby when he saw the whole place was changing. All the basketweavers and potmakers and bloody unemployed architects making houses out of mudcakes were moving back to Carlton and the place was filling up with young people with kids, big mortgages. Next thing he’s joined the party, he’s branch secretary, he’s signed on hundreds of these beancounters and computer salesmen. Before you look the cunt’s in Parliament. He’d have joined the Nazi Party if he thought it would carry Lance Pitman to glory.’
Behind me, Jackie Pixley said, ‘Lunch is served, Kevin. You’ll have to excuse us, Mr Irish.’ Her voice was as cold as the wind on Station Pier.
Pixley’s eyes narrowed. ‘Leave us alone, woman,’ he said. ‘It’ll be closing time for me soon e-bloody-nough. And get me my diary for 1980.’
I heard her turn on her heel on the polished boards. It made a squeak. We sat in silence. Inside a minute she was back, slamming a leatherbound book down on the bar and leaving. Squeak.
‘Nice girl,’ Pixley said. ‘Met her on the plane to Europe after Ellen shot through. My second wife, that was. She couldn’t stand being alone. Took to fucking plumbers, electricians, any bloke in overalls with a tool. Now Jackie can’t bear that I can’t go out much. And the bloody people around here don’t want to know us. Christ knows what that’ll lead to.’
‘I can come back,’ I said.
‘Bugger that. I’m warmed up. How’s your drink? I’ll give you another one.’
When he’d poured the drinks, he said, ‘Anyway, the bastard went around brown-nosing every living thing in the caucus. We get into office in ’76 and Pitman’s in Cabinet. Minister for Police. That’s a laugh. He should’ve been the first one arrested. But they liked him there, the cops. He made a lot of cop friends. They know a shonk when they see one. He howled like a dingo when Harker moved him to Housing.’
I didn’t have time for a complete history of the Harker government. ‘About Yarrabank,’ I said.
He ignored the hint. ‘What the bastard really wanted was Planning,’ he said. ‘He’d have put on lipstick and a party frock and sucked off the whole caucus for Planning. But not even Harker was stupid enough to give it to him. Not then, anyway. Later on, they were like bumboys.’
I said, ‘Why did he want it so badly?’
Pixley looked at me sadly. ‘Come on, Jack. Where’ve you been? Cause that’s where the big graft is. That’s where the big boys play.’
‘And that was your portfolio.’
‘From ’80 till ’84. Then Harker dumped me for Lucky Lance over the Hoagland sale. Just before the voters dumped the bloody lot of us. I never took a quid, not a bottle of Scotch, in the job. And it was lying around. Made some fucking horrible decisions, mind you. Some places in the city I can’t hardly bear to go. Still. Bloody honest cockups. Pure ignorance and led by the nose by certain people in the department. Some of them pals of Lance Pitman. The bastard came to see me in ’80. I’ll find it here.’
He picked up the diary with 1980 in gold on its cover and riffled through the gilt-edged pages. ‘Got it. Listen:
‘“Pitman came to see me this morning. Slimy as ever. Said he understands that I’m much more suited to the job than he could ever be. Knows all about Ellen. Said it’s a tragedy the way women don’t understand the demands of high office, etc etc. Beat around the bush till I asked him what he wanted. Nothing, he says. Just wanted to say he’s there if I need anything. Then he asked would I like some company. He’s got a young woman friend, lost her husband, understands grief and so on. Told him no thanks. He hung around a bit more, then asked me how I was going on the Baygate project. I said it was going through due process. He said he thought it would be bad for the party’s image with business if it got knocked back. Also, the developers were likely to be generous donors at election time. I didn’t show any interest. Then he asked me if I’d heard there was a chance ColdRoads could put their new packing plant in my electorate. I said I thought it was going to Orbison. That wasn’t settled yet, he said. Raelene came in and said my appointment had arrived. At the door, Pitman turned around and said, as if he’d just remembered it, that, by the way, did I know that the major shareholders in Baygate were also on the board of ColdRoads. I don’t have any doubt about his meaning, but I don’t want to go to Harker with something the bastard will say was just an innocent remark.”’
He looked up at me. ‘You know what happened?’
I shook my head.
‘Baygate got built. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out just because Pitman wanted it built. I should have.
