‘Right. Paying our respects.’
‘Only trouble with that is,’ Hank said, ‘we have a statement on DVD from Dr McKinley that he had no knowledge of any. . subsidiary arrangements made by Tarelton.’
I drank the rest of the scotch. ‘Yeah, and when he found out about them, he became worried. Didn’t want to reveal what he’d discovered because he suspected that these commercial arrangements were designed to exploit the aquifer to the detriment, shall we say, of the public interest.’
Dimarco shook his head, pale, lumpy and glowing under the soft light. ‘We knew nothing at all. .’
‘You’re lying,’ Hank said. ‘We know from Dr McKinley’s statement that Global offered him a substantial bribe for the information.’
Holland couldn’t contain himself. ‘This statement, this DVD-does he. .?’
‘Do you deny you offered him money?’ I said.
Again, Dimarco and Holland exchanged looks. ‘These are intricate commercial arrangements,’ Dimarco said.
‘We’re negotiating, here,’ Holland said, leaning forward. ‘It’s a rough and tumble world. If your. . client is prepared to consider an offer. .’
He’d missed the point, and I was ready to give him the sort of reply he wouldn’t want to hear when the window behind him and Dimarco exploded. Glass flew around as a volley of shots poured in, hitting some electrical fitting and plunging the room into darkness.
Instinctively, Hank and I dived for the floor, but I could feel blood running down my face from where the flying glass had nicked it. Dimarco had dived sideways, knocking Holland from his chair.
‘Hank,’ I said, ‘you OK?’
‘Yeah. Untouched.’
‘Dimarco?’
‘I’m all right, but I think William’s been hit.’
A light fitting was sputtering, sending out sparks. The heat triggered the smoke alarm and the sprinkler system. The room became a wet, howling mess as sirens sounded outside, drawing closer. A choking smoke filled the room and we started coughing and wiping at our eyes. Hank and I lifted Holland bodily and, with Dimarco kicking chairs out of the way and us crunching glass under our feet, we scrambled out of the room, down the corridor and reached the stairs.
The woman who’d let us in was standing on the stairs screaming and Dimarco yelled at her to shut up and get out of the way. She stumbled to the bottom, still screaming. Hank was supporting Holland’s upper body and his clothes were getting soaked with blood. We got Holland out onto the footpath and my knees were about ready to give way when two paramedics took over.
PART THREE
18
The next few hours were a shit storm of cops, firemen, paramedics and TV crews. William Holland had been hit, not by a bullet, but by a shard of glass that had taken a chunk from the side of his head, causing massive bleeding. Working under a rigged-up emergency light, the paramedics had stemmed the flow, loaded him onto a stretcher and rushed him to hospital.
Dimarco, Hank and I were soaked by the sprinklers, and Dimarco had a lot of blood on his Armani suit. A second batch of paramedics escorted us across the street, away from the blaze of flashing lights. Police were holding back reporters as the fire crew withdrew after making sure that the place wasn’t going to burn.
A paramedic crouched by the bench where Dimarco, Hank and I were sitting and looked us over closely. He stood up, puzzled.
‘You guys don’t seem to be in shock,’ he said.
Dimarco took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and offered them around. The paramedic took one; Hank and I refused. ‘I guess we’ve been under fire before,’ Dimarco said.
‘Is that right?’
A plain clothes detective had come up quietly. I was busy blotting my minor facial cuts with a wad of tissues, but I looked up when I heard the voice. It was Phil Fitzwilliam.
‘You gentlemen, and I don’t include you, Hardy, have some explaining to do.’
Dimarco whipped his mobile phone from his pocket. ‘Not without my lawyer present.’
Hank produced his mobile, but didn’t say anything.
‘How about you, Hardy?’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Are you going to call in that cunt Garner, like you always do?’
I stood up and shook some of the fragments of glass from my clothes. ‘Gee, Phil, I thought you meant I didn’t have to do any explaining, that I was free to go.’
Two more detectives-the one I’d seen with Fitzwilliam before, and another, looking as if he might be of equal or senior rank-had joined Fitzwilliam, who bit back whatever response he’d been going to make to my remark. ‘Two of these men are known to me, Inspector-private enquiry agents; one disbarred, both of ill repute. I don’t know the other man.’
Dimarco, quite recovered and poised, produced his card. ‘Clive Dimarco, vice-president of Global Resources.’
The man Fitz had deferred to was about his age but in much better physical condition. His suit was good without being too good, and he held himself like a man used to being listened to, not needing to bully-unlike Fitz. He ignored Dimarco’s card.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Sean Wells. You’re going to have to accompany us to Surry Hills to answer-’
He stopped as I brushed him aside. Megan had got through the police barrier somehow and was hurrying towards us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Horace Greenacre arguing fiercely with a cop, pointing at Megan. I could feel Hank thrusting forward but I sensed Fitzwilliam interposing his bulk.
Megan looked me with a depth of concern she’d never shown before, not even back in San Diego.
‘Cliff, you’re bleeding! Hank, are you OK? What happened? I’m sorry, I. .’
Hank put his arms around her.
Looking down I saw that my shirt was splattered with blood. I said, ‘It’s OK, just a few scratches. Looks worse than it is. Someone broke up our meeting. It’s a good thing you weren’t there, but what kept you?’
‘My sister, half-sister, rang. She wanted to get back in touch. I couldn’t stop her yakking, and then I couldn’t get a cab.’
Fitzwilliam was glowering, and Wells was looking aggressively in the direction of the TV crews.
‘We have to go to Surry Hills,’ I said. ‘Shots were fired.’
‘My God!’
Hank handed her his car keys. ‘Don’t worry. Go home. We’ll sort it out and I’ll be back in a few hours.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ Fitzwilliam said.
Greenacre had finally persuaded the police to let him through and he came bustling up, puce-faced with indignation. ‘What the hell have you done to my office? I’ll sue the lot of you.’
Wells took charge. ‘You’ll have to accompany us, sir. This is a very serious matter. A man’s been badly hurt and property has been severely damaged. We’ll need statements from everyone involved.’
Hank was holding Megan by the shoulders, half shielding her from the police. ‘She’s
Wells nodded. ‘You’re free to go.’
Hank released her and Megan jiggled the keys. ‘I don’t know. I-’
‘That’s it,’ Wells barked. ‘We’ve stood around long enough for those TV bastards to get pictures and make up stories. Fitz, Carter, let’s get moving.’
The cops herded us, and it was either fight or go. Megan understood and backed up.
‘How’s your fucking heart, Hardy?’ Fitzwilliam whispered as we moved away from the TV lights and towards the cars.
