money on the wiring. The insurance company would be happy about that.
Not wanting to mix my drinks, I sat in the breakfast nook in the kitchen with a gin and tonic on the scarred table and thought about Fitz. Among those in the know, he’d been notorious for taking kickbacks from companies and individuals for information about police interest in their affairs. With ICAC and other watchdogs active, he’d probably gone quiet on that lately. But, since the Tarelton enterprise, with headquarters in Surry Hills, was firmly inside Fitz’s patch, could it be that he was on the payroll?
I missed Lily. In recent years, with cases like these, I’d formed the habit of laying the evidence, or, lacking any, the assumptions and theories, out for her and getting her opinion. More often than not she’d come up with a useful suggestion that would clear the fog and suggest a course of action. But the fog was thick now.
I tried to remember when I’d last eaten and couldn’t. I was losing weight from all the walking and skipping meals. I made myself a sandwich and ate it although I had no appetite. The ache for Lily; the attack on Hank’s office and the damage to Megan; the threat from Fitzwilliam and the nagging feeling of lifelong dependence on medications were nagging at me. I wondered if I was still up for this kind of work, even as a supernumerary. Then the phone rang.
10
'Cliff, it’s the middle of the night and I woke up with a bad feeling. Has something happened?’
I don’t believe in the paranormal, but this sort of thing occurs. It’s just a heightened anxiety in my book. You don’t hear about the times the alarm proves to be false.
‘Yes, Margaret, your father’s body has been found. He was killed. I’m very sorry.’
A pause, and then her voice shook. ‘I’ve tried to prepare myself for it. I’ve seen lots of deaths. But you can’t, can you, when it’s your own people?’
‘Not really, no,’ I said. ‘If you need some time now you can hang up and call back. I’ll be here. .’
‘No! I’d rather have you there. I mean I’d rather be with you. Oh God, I’m confused. Just talk to me about it.’
‘The police are involved and cooperating with Hank and me. We’re doing everything we can to try to find out who did it. For the moment it’s under wraps.’
‘Why?’
I explained about the police strategy.
‘Will that work?’
‘I doubt it, but it’s worth a try. The story’ll have to get out soon because the police’ll be asking for witnesses and
they’ll want media coverage, but for now. .’
‘How did it happen?’
‘It seems that he died from heart failure, but he’d been attacked and injured.’
‘He was a strong man, I bet he fought back.’
‘Nothing of this is public knowledge. Don’t say anything to anyone. Not even to Lucinda.’
‘I understand. Cliff, I’ll have to come home, won’t I?’
‘You will. Can you arrange it?’
‘I’ve got some leave accumulated and Lucinda’s been agitating to see her father and her new half-sister. Her holidays are coming up. She can stay with them. I can swing it. Take a few days.’
‘Do that,’ I said, ‘and text me the details. I’ll meet you and you can stay here. I’ve got a spare room. Nothing fancy.’
‘I don’t need fancy. I need someone to talk to and for. . answers and explanations. My poor dad. . he didn’t deserve anything like this.’
No answer to that. We talked briefly and then she cut the call. I told her she could ring any time and I sat by the phone with the dregs of my drink for a while thinking she might press for more information but she didn’t call back.
I rang Megan’s number early the next morning and got Hank, as I expected.
‘How is she?’
‘Up and about, Cliff. I tried to tell her to take it easy but she wouldn’t listen.’
‘Her mother was that way.’
‘And like you’re not? She’s gone to Victoria Park to swim laps, and she says as soon as I do something about the gas- sorry, petrol-in the office, she’ll get on with the quarry research. Says she’s come to like quarries. They have interesting histories. Wants to buy one.’
Margaret McKinley was the sort of person who did what she said she was going to do. They’re not all that thick on the ground. I’d got my car back and I met her at Mascot three days later in the evening. She looked tired and strained but also exhilarated. Generally speaking, Sydney isn’t a bad place to fly into-not too hot, not too cold and you can mostly count on a clear sky. That’s how it was and she was appreciating it.
She gave me a sort of hug, which I returned. Casually dressed in slacks, a blouse and a loose jacket, she’d travelled light, with just her cabin bag and a medium-sized suitcase. We trooped through to the car park and she stopped me after I’d opened the boot.
‘Let me have a look at you.’
I put her case in the boot and turned and stood for her inspection, selfconsciously.
She nodded. ‘You’ve completely recovered, haven’t you? More energy than before the heart alarm? Taking better care of yourself?’
‘Right,’ I said.
‘I knew you’d come good.’ She laughed. ‘Listen to me, I’m talking Australian already.’
‘A couple of days and you won’t be able to tell the difference. It’s great to see you, Margaret. I’m just sorry it’s not under better circumstances.’
‘I’ve known in my heart of hearts for a while that he was gone. That he didn’t embezzle a million dollars and take off to South America, or have a fall and be in an amnesiac fog somewhere.’
No remote. I opened the passenger door with the key. She smiled at the old-fashioned operation but didn’t say anything. I got in and started the engine.
‘I had to tell Lucinda her grandfather had died. I didn’t give her any details.’
‘Sure. The media have the facts now and they’re covering it. Some of the facts, that is. I’ve got the papers at home and a record of one of the TV reports.’
‘Some of the facts?’
I was out in the traffic, coping with the aggression of the cabbies and the competitiveness of some of the other drivers. I swore as one cut in front of me. I felt her touch my arm.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Just drive. Plenty of time to talk.’
She was wearing shoes with a small heel. She eased them off and leaned back in her seat. She’d obviously freshened up before landing. I could smell some kind of perfume, very faintly. She ran her fingers through her hair, shook it out, and the action had an immediately erotic effect on me so that I had to grip the wheel and concentrate on my driving more than was needed.
‘I guess this isn’t the scenic route,’ she said as we travelled through streets crammed with transport warehouses.
‘There isn’t one. They made some improvements for the Olympics. But you’ve been back since then, you said.’
‘Once only. Dad collected us and took us straight up to a resort on the central coast. Bliss. And straight back. I scarcely saw Sydney.’
‘Lots of changes,’ I said. ‘Bridges, tunnels, toll roads, e-tags, half a million plus for a single-storey terrace in Newtown.’
‘Jesus. As students we rented them for next to nothing. What else?’
‘Starbucks, Gloria Jean’s, more Maccas.’
‘Tell me something good.’
