Insurance’s most recent annual report and a document showing how the Hartley Investigation Agency fitted into the larger structure of the Trans-Pacific Corporation based in Los Angeles, California. It was like a spider web of interlocking entities including dot coms, investment advisory consultants, software agents, stockbrokers, legal outfits and insurance companies. Trans-Pacific had insurance companies in the US, Canada and Mexico, Hong Kong, Singapore and Malaysia, even in New Zealand, but nothing in Australia.
I sat back and thought about this while my head throbbed and the cuts on my wrists stung. When would the painkillers cut in? Then I noticed that the message light on the phone was blinking. I hit the button.
‘Scott, where the hell are you? I’ve tried your mobile. It’s that Hardy. Shit… Never mind.’
Bryce Carter. An idea was beginning to form. I got the address of where I was from one of di Maggio’s numerous credit cards bills, checked the number in the notebook and rang Charlie Underwood.
Di Maggio came home a little before 11 pm, which had given me time to do what I had to do. He had company with him, a big body-builder type with attitude. But I’d found a. 32 Beretta Puma in a bedroom drawer. Only seven rounds, not a lot of gun, but enough, going along with the element of surprise and a lot of anger. I ushered the two of them into the living room and had them sit together on the leather couch while I sat on a chair two metres away.
‘I like the way you maintain your weapon, Scotty,’ I said. ‘All oiled and cleaned and ready to shoot. A. 32 won’t necessarily kill you even at this range, but it’ll fuck up your golf swing.’
‘You wouldn’t do it,’ di Maggio said.
‘I’ve been king-hit and drugged and I lost a lot of blood getting untied. I’ve drunk most of a bottle of wine and I’m high on painkillers. Try me.’
‘He would,’ the muscle man said.
‘Shut up, Ray.’
‘He’s right, Scotty. You bet I would. And I’m guessing Ray’s the one who hit me. With you, Ray, it’d be a pleasure. Only seven shots, but. Want to have a go?’
Ray said he didn’t. Di Maggio looked around the room and winced when he saw the blood on the carpet. ‘Can we talk money, Cliff?’
I shook my head. ‘No. We talk reasons, explanations. Then we talk penalties.’
‘You’re drifting,’ Ray said. ‘Another hour and you’ll be on your ear.’
I held up the large mug; I was on my second pot of the Colombian. ‘The coffee’ll keep me going and I’ve got friends coming.’
Di Maggio said, ‘You’ll have to get up and let them in.’
I grinned at him. ‘The trouble with you Yanks is that you think everyone in the world’s dumb except you. I left the door open. Didn’t you notice?’
About half an hour later when I was definitely feeling the strain, they all trooped in-Underwood, Hart and Travers.
‘Jesus, Cliff,’ Charlie said. ‘You look like shit.’
‘I feel like shit.’ I handed him the gun and pointed at Ray. ‘You. Get up and piss off. I’ll think about laying charges against you. All depends on how things work out here. If I was you, I’d take a holiday out of Sydney.’
Ray left without a word. It was four to one now and I relaxed.
‘What’s this, Hardy?’ Travers said. ‘Charlie’s told us bugger-all.’
Underwood put the gun aside. ‘That’s because I know bugger-all. Cliff just told me we’re all being dudded by Scott.’
‘He’s lying,’ di Maggio said.
‘Shut up,’ I said. ‘This is what’s happened.’
I laid it out for them-how they were followed from the restaurant, how I went to see Carter and the result of that. I showed them the lounge on the balcony, the broken glass and the cords. I didn’t need to point out the blood.
‘This is the way I see it. Scott here doesn’t just work for Hartley. You think he’d have this pad if he did? You should see his company credit card bills and the other perks he’s got. He’s a sort of hitman for a thing called Trans-Pacific Corporation who’ve got fingers in lots of pies. They’ve got insurance companies all around the Pacific, but they haven’t got one in Australia.’
‘What’s to stop them buying one?’ Hart asked.
‘Nothing, but it’s a competitive business, I suppose. The price’d have to be right.’
Travers was up and wandering around the room. He stopped at the wet bar. ‘Anyone fancy a drink?’
‘I’ll have a scotch,’ di Maggio said.
I shook my head. ‘You’ll have nothing. Soak up as much as you want, Darcy. You might like to take a few bottles with you. The way things’re looking that’s all you’re going to get out of this.’
That got their attention. Travers poured himself a massive drink, but Charlie and Colin Hart focused their attention on di Maggio, who loosened his collar and slid his tie down.
‘Get on with it,’ Hart said.
‘I think Scott was setting Sentinel up for a big drop in their stock value. He’s got a bloke on the inside- Carter.’
Underwood nodded. ‘I know him.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘He gave us work. He’s delayed the payment. Got us jumpy. Along comes Scott who says he’s in the same boat. Let’s all pull together and get the dirt on Sentinel.’
‘You mean it’s not shaky?’
I shrugged. ‘Who knows? Probably not, or Trans-Pacific wouldn’t be interested. Bound to be some irregularities, skeletons in the closet. One way or another we would have teased them out. Working for free, mind you. A few leaks to the media about this and that, our lack of confidence, “unnamed sources”, all that shit, and a solid company suddenly looks iffy. The shareholders get cold feet. Trans-Pacific makes a low offer and they grab it. Good deal all round and Scotty here walks away with a big bonus, or a vice presidency and stock options or whatever these arseholes do for their hotshots.’
There was silence in the room except for the sound of ice cubes in Travers’ glass hitting his teeth as he finished his drink. He got a refill immediately.
‘Any proof?’ Charlie said.
I showed them the Sentinel annual report and the Trans-Pacific structure.
Colin Hart didn’t want to believe it. ‘Having that report’s consistent with what Scott told us to begin with. I mean, his worry about Sentinel.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘If you can work his computer you’ll probably find more of the same, but…’I held up my bandaged wrist. ‘It’s not consistent with this. I broke out of the huddle by going directly to Sentinel and that panicked Carter. You saw that thug who was here with Scott. I reckon he’s the one who whacked me. I was out there on that balcony strapped down like a lethal injection candidate. I wonder what the next step was for me?’
Di Maggio surprised us by getting up smoothly. Underwood moved to put himself between the American and the Beretta but di Maggio waved him away with a smile. He went to the bar and poured himself a generous scotch and went back to the couch. He took a pull, put the glass down and then broke into a slow handclap.
‘I guess you’d have been collateral damage, Cliff. I knew this guy was smart,’ he said. ‘But I underestimated him. I have to tell you guys that he’s got it pretty much right.’ He waved his glass. ‘A few things where he’s a little off beam but basically right.’ He raised his glass in a salute to me and took another drink.
‘What did I get wrong?’
Di Maggio shrugged. ‘Not much. Bryce Carter works for me and I don’t actually work for Trans-Pacific. I’m a sort of troubleshooter they hired. I specialise in making things happen the way people want them to.’
‘You bastard,’ Hart said. ‘You took us all for a ride.’
‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘You mean this was all your idea? Trans-Pacific wasn’t involved directly?’
‘No, Cliff, I wouldn’t say that. I cleared it with Hank Rapaport and a couple of the other board members.’
I nodded. Hart moved up on di Maggio and looked ready to throw a punch. ‘You’d have walked away with something like what Hardy says and left us swinging in the wind.’
