‘Could be. Farrow found the shotgun that could’ve killed MacPherson. Who knows where Wendy fits in? But it wouldn’t hurt to try it on Matilda for size. No word about Wendy down here, is there? The cops don’t know where she is.’
De Witt drained his mineral water and shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
‘She could be in Sydney still. No one better placed to hide people than a real estate agent.’
‘You’re reaching.’
‘True. Can you give me a list of the places in Sydney this Buckingham character owns?’
‘Sure. I’ll email it. So you’re heading back to the smoke?’
‘Have to. A matter of a stolen car to sort out.’
De Witt looked blank.
‘Don’t worry. It’s a sideshow. I’ll get this, or rather my client will.’
I’d drunk half of the bottle; I got the cork back and took the rest with me. I went to the toilet again and examined my face. The bruises were coming along nicely and the scratches were scabbing up. Quick healers, the Hardys.
The Falcon was where I’d left it close to Marisha’s building. I pulled the Hyundai, which hadn’t suffered any damage beyond wear and tear on the tyres and picking up a lot of dust, into one of the parking slots. I went to her door and rang the bell. I had the keys dangling from my index finger. The door opened and she looked at me as if I was wearing a fright mask. She retreated a step.
‘Cliff. Oh, Cliff, I’m so sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘For reporting the car stolen. I didn’t see your note and when the car wasn’t there I got angry.’
‘I left the note in plain view.’
‘It fell down. I found it later and tried to… withdraw the report, but…’
‘You didn’t see my car in the street and think about it?’
‘No, oh God, don’t look so fierce.’
Was she acting again? I just couldn’t tell. I stuck my finger out so she could take the keys but she wasn’t looking at it.
‘Your face! What’s happened to your face? Is it my fault? Did the police…?’
She had the knack. The things she said and the way she said them made me laugh. I leaned against the doorway clumsily and dropped the keys. I grunted as I bent to pick them up, something I’d pledged not to do. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘One cop tried to kill me and another saved my life.’
Her hands went up to her hair in a gesture that lifted her small breasts under the T-shirt and emphasised her slimness and flexibility. ‘Jesus. Was this because I reported it?’
‘Yes and no. They would have found me anyway, sooner or later. Can I come in?’
‘Of course.’ She reached for my hands and I let her pull me inside. There was a smell of incense in the apartment and I could hear some kind of classical music playing softly. Also voices speaking a foreign language. She saw me noticing and shook her head. ‘I haven’t got visitors. I’m working on a film translation.’
‘What language?’
‘Russian.’
‘Lucky it isn’t Arabic, you’d have ASIO after you.’
She stared at me and then the strain and doubt fell away from her face as she smiled. ‘A joke. You are beaten up again and still joking. Are we going to make love again?’
‘If I can,’ I said.
‘So, how is what you call your other matter going?’
We’d made love, but my doubts about her story and my reluctance to question her further hadn’t helped. I’d slept while Marisha worked and now we were sitting over glasses of wine before deciding what to do about an evening meal. A long, hot shower had eased my aches and pains but my face still looked as if I’d played eighty minutes of State of Origin. I remembered being clobbered by a runaway surfboard once, and my face felt a bit like it had then. It hurt to frown and to laugh and I’d chipped a tooth. To my tongue it felt like a serrated edge but Marisha said she couldn’t see it. I’d put off thinking about the Farmer case, but the respite was temporary.
‘It’s taking some sort of shape,’ I said. ‘But there’s a fair way to go.’
‘So you’ll be running off again soon?’
I nodded.
‘Will it be dangerous? As dangerous as it has been up to now?’
‘I hope not. If I can find out how things tie together that should satisfy my client. Then it’ll be a matter for the police.’
‘Who is he, your client?’
‘She. An academic at Sydney University.’
‘Beautiful?’
‘Handsome.’
‘Sexy?’
‘A lesbian.’
She laughed and drew closer to me on the couch. ‘I didn’t pay you for finding Kristina.’
‘I found her but I didn’t catch her. You don’t have to pay me.’
‘She phoned me as she said she would.’
‘How’s she going to manage with that bastard of a pimp?’
‘I think she’ll manage.’
I remembered how she’d tricked me into taking her to Paddington and how she’d coped with that situation and I thought that perhaps Marisha was right-if the story was true. My mind switched to Wendy Jones and Matilda and Larry Buckingham.
‘You’ve gone away already,’ Marisha said.
I shook my head and was pleased to feel no pain. ‘Not yet.’
I brought Elizabeth Farmer up to date by telephoning her in the morning. I omitted the rough stuff but let her know there were two more possible victims of a conspiracy behind her father’s death.
‘And you think Dad got wind of it?’
‘It’s a possibility. Trouble is, it’s all tissue thin. Matilda’s got some sort of connection to this Kembla Holdings mob that has a dodgy smell to it. If they’re involved in the purchase of Sue Holland’s land it would all firm up a bit, but I don’t know if it’s possible to tease that out.’
‘Why not?’
‘Sue said she got the offer through a solicitor and tried to track back to the source of the money but didn’t get very far.’
A disparaging noise came over the line. ‘One, she’d be a rank amateur at that sort of thing and, two, she has an interest in not knowing.’
‘I suppose that’s true.’
‘Now my Tania works for this massive accounting firm that’s got databases and all that stuff. Maybe she could see if there’s a connection between… what was it?’
‘Kembla Holdings. Everything all right on that front, is it?’
‘Yes. Kembla Holdings and the solicitor. What’s his name?’
‘I don’t know. You’d have to ask Sue, and along the lines of what you said before, she probably won’t tell you.’
‘I’ll spin her a story. She’ll tell me. So what are you going to do, Cliff?’
‘I’d like to find Wendy Jones and her pals, and I’m wondering if you’re in any danger.’
‘I can take care of myself, and if Matilda’s behind all this she knows that I don’t have a clue about it.’
‘She might know-through the bent cops-that I was hired by you.’
‘You said he was in custody, that policeman.’
‘That’s right.’
‘I should pay you some money,’ she said.
‘It wouldn’t hurt. I’ll email you an account.’
