‘Here’s the possibility of a solution to the city’s water crisis and the only people with any integrity, the only ones not trying to make money out of it, get screwed.’
‘Yeah, but at least the greedy ones haven’t made the money yet and maybe they never will.’
‘You don’t think Dr McKinley’s site and other information’ll ever be known?’
‘He did a good job of wiping it off the record.’
Megan was quiet for a while, coping with the heavy traffic along Broadway. At a long traffic light stop she said, ‘I was thinking there’s a job for Hank here. Did you know he has a pilot’s licence?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘He knows the drill. He could go to Bankstown airport and perhaps locate the pilot McKinley hired and then find out the area he was interested in. Who knows? The pilot might even have copies of the photographs. It’d depend on what equipment was used.’
‘You’re keen to discover McKinley’s secret are you, love? That’s not our brief.’
‘I care about the city. So should you and everybody else. No one’s ever going to do anything about saving all the water that just runs into the sea, and the desalination plant’s a crock of shit.’
‘Wouldn’t hurt for Hank to have a go,’ I said.
Margaret emailed that she’d arrived safely, had her daughter with her, and had more or less sorted out the problems with her ex. She told me about the power of attorney and hoped I didn’t find it too great a responsibility. I replied that I appreciated her trust in me and that we were making progress, but were still well short of a resolution.
She replied, confessing that she’d taken a photo of me with her cell phone without me knowing and had shown it to her daughter. Lucinda said I looked like an older, rougher version of Russell Crowe. I could live with that. Bit taller, though.
I phoned Global Resources and was put through to William Holland very speedily.
‘Mr Hardy-very good to hear from you. How do things stand?’
‘It’s time for a meeting. Could you propose a venue?’
‘Well, we have a well-equipped boardroom and-’
‘I bet you do. We don’t. We have a few cubbyholes. I like the idea of Horace Greenacre’s place. He seemed to have a bit of space. Perhaps you could arrange that.’
‘I’m sure I could. When do you suggest?’
‘This evening.’
‘That’s very short notice.’
‘You said it was urgent.’
‘You’re right, I did. Okay. I’ll phone Horace. Shall we say seven o’clock?’
‘Seven thirty,’ I said, just to be annoying.
‘Very well.’
‘That’s 19.30 hours.’
‘You are a very irritating man, for someone who has been stripped of his private detective’s licence.’
He hung up.
‘The lawyer’s place,’ I said to Megan, ‘at seven thirty. We get there about forty minutes late.’
‘Why?’
‘So we can watch the news-see how the water crisis is going.’
I spent the afternoon swimming slow laps in the Victoria Park pool and at the Marrickville gym where Tony Truscott was training. He looked sharp, and he told me the contracts for his title fight were being drawn up.
‘I hope you’ll be there, Cliff.’
‘I will. Did I see you stumble just a fraction when you weren’t quite sure where the ropes were?’
He grinned. ‘You bastard. Yeah, have to get that right. Know the ring like your living room. He will. Did you?’
I laughed. ‘Mate, in my last fight I saw the ropes looking up from the canvas. An old-time fighter told me he could smell where they were. Didn’t have to look.’
‘They moved slower back then.’
‘You’re right. Have you got a firm date?’
‘These Yanks try to screw with your head. It’s maybe this and maybe that. I don’t take any notice. I’m fighting for Lily. That’s all the focus I need.’
I nodded and threw a left lead at him that he picked off as if I was in slow motion.
Hank and I arrived at Double Bay separately, within a few
minutes of each other. He was alone.
‘Where’s Megan?’ I said.
He shrugged. ‘She got a call just as we were leaving. Don’t know what about. She said she’d take a cab and probably be a bit late.’
‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell them someone else is coming-keep them on their toes.’
We went up the stairs to Greenacre’s suite. He wasn’t there, but his secretary was.
‘The other gentlemen are in the conference room,’ she said. ‘This way, please.’
We entered a room with a long table and high-backed chairs. There were paintings on the walls and a wet bar and coffee-making gear discreetly tucked behind some greenery. Soft, concealed lighting. Two men stood by a tall window looking out at the evening sky. Both wore dark suits. One had silver hair and the other, who was vaguely familiar, had no hair at all. Silver-hair turned around as we came in and moved towards us, his hand extended.
‘I’m William Holland and this is my associate, Clive Dimarco.’
Hank shook the hand. ‘Hank Bachelor, this is Cliff Hardy.’
I exchanged nods with both men. ‘We have an associate of ours coming. She’ll be along soon.’
Holland didn’t like it but what could he do? ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Let’s get started here. Do either of you want anything to drink?’
Hank shook his head.
‘Scotch,’ I said. ‘Ice only.’
Holland inclined his head. ‘Clive, if you’ll be so good, mineral water for me.’
‘Sure.’ Dimarco’s New York accent was strong, unlike Hank’s, which had been eroded by his time in Australia. He prepared the drinks, making a scotch for himself as least as solid as mine.
We were all on our feet and uncertain how to arrange ourselves. Eventually, Holland took a chair near the top of the table but not at its head, and we all sat.
Dimarco drank, took a miniature tape recorder from his pocket and put it on the table. ‘I reckon we ought to have a record of this meeting.’
Hank had a similar device in the pocket of his denim jacket and he produced it with a flourish. ‘I agree,’ he said.
‘I’ll start the ball rolling,’ Holland said after sipping his drink. ‘We entered into an agreement with Tarelton Explorations to share the fruits of Dr Henry McKinley’s research into. .’
‘Tapping the Sydney basin aquifer,’ Hank said.
‘Exactly. Unhappily, relations between us and Tarelton deteriorated over time and we feared that our interest, and I might say our investment-’
‘You invested money in Tarelton itself or directly into McKinley’s research?’ The whisky was smooth, the sort of stuff I’d buy myself if I ever got used to being affluent.
‘The former, with a clear understanding that Dr McKinley’s work would be fully supported.’
‘I think maybe Tarelton was playing you for a sucker,’ Hank said. ‘Our information is that they were borrowing money from other sources. Could be from this Lachlan Enterprises outfit.’
Holland and Dimarco exchanged concerned looks. ‘We certainly weren’t aware of that,’ Holland said.
I said, ‘OK, so we’ve each given the other some information. Our brief is to discover who killed McKinley- nothing more, nothing less. Any information on that?’
‘Of course not,’ Dimarco said. ‘We at Global were completely shocked by his death.’
I was wondering why Megan hadn’t showed up, but I had a flash and snapped my fingers. ‘Now I’ve placed you. You were at the funeral.’
