murder, I said.

11

We agreed on an agenda. I would try to find out who White had visited at the Connaught and get on to Cavendish about seeing the members of the Beckett family. I scrabbled among Harry Tickeners faxes for a newspaper article hed thrown in that contained a picture of Barry White. He was slimmer then, but the grainy reproduction wasnt flattering, and yesterdays Barry didnt look so very different. It would do as a way of prompting people. Max would check on the whereabouts of Andrea Neville and find out all he could about the present dispositions of Deputy Commissioner Colin Sligo. As Max was leaving the phone rang and I told him to stop, forgetting that with his back turned he couldnt hear me. Of course, he hadnt heard the phone ring. Simultaneously with picking up the phone I tossed my styrofoam cup in Maxs direction. It hit him on the back of the neck and he spun around.

Hardy speaking. I made a hang on gesture to Max who nodded, picked up the cup and dropped it into the waste-paper bin.

This is Wallace Cavendish, Mr Hardy. Ive spoken to Mrs Beckett and she has agreed to see you. Would six- thirty today be acceptable?

I hesitated for a fraction of a second. It had the sound of a time when Claudia might ring, but there was no way to know and Id resolved not to let anything about her faze me. Certainly, Mr Cavendish. Thank you for your cooperation. I take it youll be there?

Most definitely. Let me give you the address.

He rattled off an address in Wollstonecraft, not a part of Sydney where I spend much time. A Gregorys job. I scribbled it down. Thanks. At six-thirty then.

Please be prompt. Mrs Beckett doesnt like to be kept waiting.

Im the same, I said. Ill be there. I rang off and looked at Max, who was shifting his weight from side to side impatiently.

Cavendish, I said. Im seeing the old girl this evening. Sorry about chucking that at you. I just didnt know how else to get your attention and I thought it might be important.

Thats OK, Max said. The whole bloody deafness thing just pisses me off sometimes. Whatre you going to say to her?

I shrugged and took a chance. Ill play it by ear.

Max threw back his head and roared. Good one, Cliff. Good one. Ill be in touch.

The day was clear and bright with a bit of autumn in the breeze. It can be the best time of the year in Sydney, when warm days give way to cool nights. In the past people could sunbake, if they could get out of the wind, until May. Now they dont do that much and, anyway, the wind would blow their hats off as they were heading for the sheltered spots on the beach. I bought three pieces of fruit in a shop in William Street, averted my eyes from the pubs, and headed for the Connaught.

For some reason Whitlam Square, a five-ways, is one of the windiest places in the city. It was blowing hard and the dust was flying when I arrived and I had my head down and my eyes almost closed as I went up the ramp towards the entrance to the Connaught. I was aware of someone in front of me but I was floundering, blinking against the dust, when we collided.

You bastard!

I stumbled back and was three metres below her when I finally got my eyes open. Claudia Vardon stood there looking as if shed shoot me if she had a gun. She was wearing a white dress that emphasised the smooth brown of her skin. Her hair was blowing wildly in the wind and her right fist was clenched.

You followed me here! You goddamn snoop!

Claudia, no, I swear I didnt. This is a coincidence. Im here tracking someone. A man. Jesus

Coincidence, come on.

People were looking at us as we stood, three steps apart, voices raised, arguing. I went up the steps and tried to take her arm. Lets get away from here so we can talk. I can prove to you that I didnt follow you. I wouldnt. I respect your privacy.

She shied away from my touch but she let out a deep breath and seemed to soften a little. Youre right. We cant talk here.

Is there a coffee shop or something?

She nodded and led the way down to a coffee shop cum deli on what was called the Connaught Concourse. When we were seated I reached into my pocket for the photo of White. This guy hired me a couple of days ago.

She barely glanced at the photo. To do what?

To investigate something.

Of course. And…

I didnt quite trust him, or rather I wanted to know more about him, so I followed him after another meeting and he came in here. I was going to show this picture around and ask if anyone had seen him.

He lives here?

No, no. Hes got some kind of benefactor who might live here. I want to find out who that is.

The waitress came over and we ordered coffee.

Why cant you ask him who this benefactor is?

He wouldnt tell me. Anyway, hes dead now.

Her huge, dark eyes opened wide and I could feel the anger going out of her as a more important matter was on the table. But you said yesterday

He was killed yesterday, just a few hours before I met you.

The coffee came and I found myself telling her almost everything about the case, leaving out most of the names. I wasnt trying to impress her, more trying to convince her that I hadnt snooped. She listened and asked the odd question and I was aware again of how sharp her mind was and I could sense that there was a lawyer in her, just below the surface. She stopped the flow by putting her hand on my arm.

Its OK, Cliff. I believe you.

Good. Thank you. This is all a bit weird, Claudia. Ive been thinking about you non-stop. The bloke Im working with, this Max I mentioned, says Im a different man today.

She spooned up froth from her cup. Oh, yeah. And just what have you been thinking about me?

I covered her hand with mine and then I interlaced our fingers. She didnt object. I respect your…

Right to privacy. You said that. Anyway, its blown. I live here, temporarily.

I was going to say your caution.

She laughed. Do you call last night cautious.

No, I call it bloody wonderful.

So do I. Come up to my place.

Her apartment was on the eighth floor with a great view across the park towards the water. I didnt get much more than a glimpse of it over her shoulder because we were clawing at each other within seconds of getting inside. She had white, lacy things under the white dress and some of them stayed on as we thrashed around on her bed. We kissed so hard it was like two boxers locking heads, and her tongue in my mouth and her hands down below quickly had me up and ready to go. She knelt on the tight pink satin sheet and shoved me onto my back. She hovered over me like a great white-crested, brown-plumaged bird. Then she swooped down and took me in her mouth.

I fought for control as I ran my hands over her firm body, kneading the flesh of her buttocks and breasts and thrusting my fingers into her. I was close to exploding when she left off and, still gripping me with one hand, fumbled in a drawer. She rolled the condom on and mounted me in what seemed like one smooth motion. She guided my hand around behind her and put my finger up into her anus as she bore down on me.

Now you hold on, she said. For as long as you can.

She rode me, knocking the breath from me with her weight. I reared up and it felt as if Id never been so

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