‘Vulnerable,’ Ivens said.
I put the notebook away. ‘Very,’ I said. ‘I propose a two-pronged attack. Present the evidence to Todd and to the can-carrying guy. If Todd tries to bluff I’m sure the can-carrier won’t carry the can, if you see what I mean.’
‘You’re a sly bastard,’ Young said.
I nodded. ‘Thank you. I didn’t like them outfoxing me.’
That’s the way it worked out. Royce West admitted that Todd Holdings was letting him live in the house at a peppercorn rent in return for certain services. Peter Todd admitted nothing, but knew he was in a corner and asked for terms. I consulted Joe Young.
He’d already made a list and he ticked the items off as we enjoyed a celebratory glass of merlot. Agreement to pay for a supervised treatment to try to revive the affected trees. Agreement to renovate the houses over there and not to destroy them. Complete confidentiality at our end. Think he’ll come at it, Cliff?’
‘It’s the best of all possible worlds.’ I said. ‘He has no choice.’
D-i-v-o-r-c-e
Our d-i-v-o-r-c-e
Becomes final today
She’s convinced he’s holding something back,’ Roger Carlson said.
‘Don’t wives make an ambit claim to allow for that?’ I said.
He nodded. ‘Some do, but Mrs Morgan just went for a thirty-seventy split of the assets.’
Carlson was a lawyer handling the divorce between Ralph and Danielle Morgan. My solicitor, Viv Garner, had suggested Carlson talk to me about a problem he had in drafting his client’s response to the other side’s version of the settlement.
‘Seventy-thirty,’ I said. ‘That seems on the generous side.’
‘She’s a nice, intelligent woman and he’s a prick, but she acknowledges that most of the money that came in during their marriage was earned by him. Not all, by any means, but she estimates her contribution at less than twenty. She tops it up to thirty on the basis of home-making, and social and personal support.’
‘No kids?’
‘No, thank Christ.’
Carlson looked uncomfortable in his suit and tie. He was a big, athletic type who’d have looked more at home on a golf course or a boat. Just as I was thinking along these lines he loosened the tie and slid it down-maybe he fancied himself as one of those wildly eccentric Hollywood movie lawyers who don’t wear a tie and have a ponytail.
‘A sticky one?’ I said.
‘Didn’t look like it at first, at least from her end, but things took a turn for the worse. I’d hate to think what would’ve happened if there’d been custody involved. His strategy is delay, delay, delay. If there’d been a young child it’d be voting before things got finished.’
I don’t much like working for lawyers. They live in a world of their own with its own rules, most of which outsiders don’t know and wouldn’t want to know. They think and sometimes talk in subsidiary clauses and hypotheticals. Straight-talking Rumpoles are rare-I’ve never met one. Even Viv Garner has his cagey moments. Carlson was doing his best to make sense.
“Why does Mrs Morgan think he’s dudding her?’
Carlson smiled. ‘My dad used to use that expression, haven’t heard it for a while. The husband owned up to a number of bank accounts. He’s a builder so he operates a company and has various accounts-fair enough. The statement he submits says there’s twenty thousand in one account. She says that at the time of their split there was close to three hundred grand in it. She says he’s bought something and tucked it away for afters.’
‘What are we talking about all up?’
‘Not that much-a house worth maybe seven hundred thou but with a pretty heavy mortgage. Bank accounts, cars, furniture and all that, about another hundred thou. So she’s looking at about two hundred and forty thousand, with her share of the equity in the house and the other bits and pieces. Not a lot if she wants to live in Sydney. Another hundred thousand’d make a big difference-get her a decent flat anyway.’
‘Leaving him a bit light on for a builder.’
‘Part of the problem. She admits that he hadn’t been doing so well lately, but she reckons that the three hundred grand was a backstop amount and she’d kicked into it a little over the years.’
‘What does he say happened to it?’
‘Gambling losses.’
I laughed. That’d be checkable-there’d be a paper trail at the casinos or the clubs or with the bookies. People notice three hundred grand going and coming.’
‘He claims it was at private card games, and he says he can provide witnesses.’
‘Well…’
‘She doesn’t believe it. She says he never gambled- wouldn’t buy a lottery ticket or enter a sweep. He reckoned gambling was for idiots.’
I shrugged. ‘Might have got in a hole and changed his mind. Took a chance.’
‘You’re following my line of questioning exactly. She dismisses the idea, says he couldn’t play cards, never did, not even Snap. You’d have to be out of your mind to go into high-stakes card games given that.’
‘True.’
Carlson gave me a level stare. Okay, I don’t care to work for lawyers and, although I did a little divorce work back in the ‘Brownie and bedsheets’ days, I didn’t like it and hadn’t done any for years, ever since Lionel Murphy got a sane law through. But the situation intrigued me.
Carlson grinned. ‘Viv said he thought you’d be interested. I’m glad to see that you are.’
‘You’re right, but what would you want me to do?’
Lawyers make a living by scoring points. It’s in their blood. They join debating teams at school, do moot courts on the way to their degrees, sign up with Toastmasters. The smug ones, and I’ve worked for some in the past, make you feel small when they kick a goal at your expense. Carlson wasn’t like that-he just got down to business.
Part of my brief was to follow Morgan and watch what he did, where he went, see who he met and try to get a line on what he might be up to, if anything. He lived in Randwick in a big house on a big block. Position, position, position, and he had it-close to schools, shops and transport, as the ads say. The house looked well maintained, as you’d expect, and would certainly command the sale price Carlson had mentioned.
It looked too big for a childless couple, but perhaps he had his office there. He didn’t seem to have business premises anywhere else. Maybe his wife was an artist who needed a studio. I hadn’t asked what she did. Should have.
Morgan drove a Land Cruiser that looked neither new nor old and over the course of a day he visited a few building sites: small jobs-an art gallery refit, a house renovation, repairs to a cricket ground grandstand damaged in a recent storm. He wasn’t in a big way of business. That could have been deliberate, winding down to keep the pool to be divvied up small. But builders operate with big overheads-licences, insurance, salaries, materials, equipment-and shoestring operators mostly go under. It occurred to me that he could have been trying to construct a bankruptcy, but with the house and the other assets unprotected it seemed like too much to lose for the sake of a hundred thousand. I remained intrigued as I tracked him about.
