Cyanide Games: A Peter Tanner Thriller

by Richard Beasley

‘You okay to tell this to a court if we need you to?’ Tanner asked.

  McPherson nodded firmly. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You’ll get a subpoena,’ Tanner said. ‘You won’t need to be at court on day one.’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Do you have any questions?’

  McPherson sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’m meant to ask this?’

  ‘Ask it anyway.’

  ‘Your client. He’s saying Richter did it?’

  ‘Do you need us to tell you we think he’s innocent?’

  ‘I understand what your job is. It’s more about Richter.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘The way he looked at me that night, when he leant over me. He really did look like he could kill someone.’

  Tanner nodded his head slowly. ‘Any time during the course of your evidence, Greg, you feel you can slip that in, feel free.’

  • • •

  Amanda Weatherill was holding a takeaway coffee cup and wearing a nervous smile when she was shown in to Tanner’s room. She was blonde, pretty, and looked younger than early thirties.

  At Tanner’s prompting, she told them about herself. She’d done nursing when she’d left school, worked in the public hospital system, then studied physiotherapy. She’d graduated four years ago. She now worked in a rehabilitation centre, helping patients who’d suffered catastrophic injuries.

  ‘Why the rehab centre?’ Tanner asked.

  ‘My younger brother,’ she said. ‘He’s been a quadriplegic for a few years.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He was at a friend’s apartment building,’ she said. ‘There was a communal pool – Mark dived in. It was only about a metre deep. He hit his head on the bottom.’

  ‘Did he sue anyone?’

  Amanda shook her head. ‘It was late at night, he’d been drinking. There was a depth sign – he didn’t see it or didn’t look.’

  She took them through her friendship with Nikki Perovic. They’d met at a public hospital, where Amanda was a nurse. ‘She broke her ankle skiing. So badly she needed surgery. I was her nurse. We became friendly, exchanged numbers. The ankle always gave her trouble. When I started physio at uni, I worked it over a lot.’

  ‘You were close friends?’

  She nodded, smiled sadly. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Share everything close?’

  She thought about it. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay,’ Tanner said. ‘Tell us what you know about Nikki and John Richter.’

  ‘He’s a control freak. Like in a – I don’t know, a psycho rich boy way. He was allowed to have sex with whoever he wanted, but if she even looked at a guy, if they looked at her, he lost it.’

  ‘“Lost it”?’

  ‘He didn’t actually have to hit her to make her, I don’t know, cower, or be scared. He . . . he just looked like he was going to do something crazy. Violent, you know?’

  Tanner nodded.

  ‘He’d disappear for days, too – no explanations at all. It didn’t take her long to find out what he was doing. She got some investigator. Nikki knew he had girls on the side, but she freaked when she found out how many.’

  ‘Did she confront him?’

  ‘After she’d made her mind up on a divorce.’

  ‘Did she speak to you about seeing a lawyer?’

  ‘That was mainly what we talked about, the last two or three months.’

  ‘Did she tell you her lawyer’s name, or the name of the firm?’

  Amanda nodded. ‘I went there with her once.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Hold her hand, I guess. That’s all.’

  ‘You didn’t sit in during a conference, did you?’

  She shook her head. ‘The lawyer didn’t want me to. Nikki said it was okay, but the lawyer . . . Sally, I think, is that right?’

  Tanner nodded.

  ‘She said it was best not.’

  ‘Did Nikki tell you what Sally was telling her?’

  ‘About getting a divorce?’

  ‘About the advice she was getting.’

  ‘Some of it. She said they had to live apart for a year, but the lawyer thought they might have been living apart . . . I don’t know . . . legally, even when he was still living there.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘She told Nikki to take photos of herself – you know, when he’d nearly strangled her.’

  Tanner sat back in his chair, and looked at Jane Ross, and then Porter.

  ‘What is it?’ Amanda asked.

  ‘Amanda,’ he said, ‘when we’re done here, I need you to write out in note form everything Nikki told you about wanting a divorce. From the first time she mentioned it. Would you do that?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘You don’t have to remember exact dates, just ballpark. You don’t have to remember word for word what she said, just the gist of it, okay?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘And this is the most important part – write down everything you remember Nikki telling you that she said to her lawyer, and what her lawyer said to her. Can you do that?’

  ‘Is this for my evidence?’ she asked, smiling curiously. ‘Why do you look pleased with yourself all of a sudden?’

  ‘You’ve heard of legal professional privilege?’

  ‘Your lawyer can’t tell people what you’ve told them?’

  Tanner nodded. ‘Except in limited circumstances. Like you.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Nikki told you what advice she was given.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘She’s waived privilege. That means her lawyer can tell us what Nikki told her about John.’

  ‘Should I – should I issue a subpoena on Sally Cook for her files?’ Porter asked.

  ‘Closer to trial. You’ll need an affidavit from Amanda as well, about what she’s told us.’

  Porter nodded and made a note.

  ‘Now,’ Tanner said. ‘Charles tells me you want to tell us something about Nikki’s death?’

  Amanda nodded slowly, but struggled to find the words where to start. ‘It’s just – I can’t believe she OD’d.’

  ‘Why?’

  She took in a deep breath, then spoke. ‘She wasn’t taking anything then. I know it.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘We saw each other all the time,’ she said. ‘Unless she was away, I saw her at least once a week. She was not on heroin when she died.’

  ‘Maybe the stress of getting divorced?’

  ‘No,’ Amanda said firmly. ‘She felt good about it. She told me she had him by the balls. Not just the surveillance and photos either.’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘She didn’t say.’

  ‘I’m just playing devil’s advocate here,’ Tanner said. ‘She’d been in rehab twice?’

  ‘He got her into drugs. There’s no way heroin was part of her life when she died. Not coke either. Last time I went out with them, John tried to get us all to have some coke, and Nikki wouldn’t. They almost had a fight. He’d got some stash from his lawyer again, but Nikki wouldn’t –’

  Tanner held up his hand for her to stop. ‘What lawyer?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘What lawyer? You said John got cocaine from his lawyer.’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah. He had this lawyer – Tony – he got him his coke.’

  Tanner looked at Jane Ross, then Charles Porter, then back to Amanda. ‘You know this guy?’

  She nodded. ‘I think I met him three or four times, maybe. He sold coke to Jack and his friends.’

  Tanner took in a deep breath. ‘John Richter and Klaudia Dabrowska told the police that our client brought the coke the night Elena Mancini died.’

  Amanda Weatherill shook her head. ‘It would’ve been Jack.’

  Tanner nodded. ‘Does Tony have a last name?’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Would you recognise him?’

  ‘Maybe. I mean, I only met him a few time, at nightclubs . . . o
nce at John and Nikki’s place, but, yeah, maybe.’

  ‘You said he sold coke to John and his friends. You saw this?’

  She shrugged. ‘There was a dinner party once. This guy had the coke. A lot of it. I mean, not just for that night. People bought off him for future use.’

  ‘Do you know where he works?’

  ‘He’s the lawyer for the company.’

  Tanner paused for a moment. ‘He’s in-house at Citadel?’

  ‘The first time I met him, he and John joked about dealing the coke in his office.’

  ‘Just a second,’ Tanner said. He clicked on his internet browser and went to Citadel’s website. He found a section for Our people, then found the general counsel’s office. He found who he was looking for, and enlarged the photo. He asked Amanda to look at his screen.

  ‘That’s the guy,’ she said. ‘Tony.’

  Tanner turned his screen around further for Porter and Ross. ‘Jane, Charles,’ he said. ‘Meet Anthony J Kerr. Deputy General Counsel, Citadel Resources, Australia. LLM, University of Queensland. More importantly for us, John Richter’s coke dealer.’ Tanner looked at Amanda Weatherill. ‘I like you,’ he said.

  She smiled shyly, and blushed.

  Porter leant forwards. ‘Do I serve a subpoena on him?’

  ‘Hell, no,’ Tanner said. ‘The prosecution knows we’re coming after Richter. They don’t know about his coke dealer yet. Let’s keep it that way for now.’

  Tanner asked Amanda to make another note, this time detailing everything she could remember of her meetings with Tony Kerr. She nodded, but he saw a momentary hesitation come over her face.

  ‘Is that okay?’

  She ran a hand through her hair. ‘Will I be asked about myself?’

  ‘Asked what?’

  She paused for a long moment. ‘Sometimes I did a few lines, with John and Nikki and their friends. Would I get asked that?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ he said slowly. ‘I’d object.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have to answer?’

  ‘I can’t guarantee that. I’d object, saying it’s not relevant, but –’

  ‘I’d lose my job,’ she said. ‘The rehab centre gets government grants for my salary. If I admit taking coke, I’d lose my job, I’m sure.’

  Tanner sat back in his chair, and ran his hand over his mouth several times as he thought. No one else spoke.

  ‘Let’s do this for now, Amanda. Make the notes I’ve asked you. Then we’ll talk again. Let me work out how I can protect you, okay?’

  • • •

  Later that evening, when Tanner was about to go home, his phone vibrated on his desk. The screen said No Caller ID, but he answered anyway.

  ‘Peter,’ the voice said. ‘It’s Li.’

  Tanner was momentarily silenced, surprised by the call. ‘Li? Is everything okay with Joe?’

  ‘He’s asked me to call you,’ he said. ‘We were before the court today.’

  Melissa had told him that Cheung’s matter was listed for the end of April. ‘I was told the twenty-ninth, Li,’ Tanner said. ‘What were you doing in court today?’

  ‘We indicated to the court that a contested trial of all charges will not be necessary. Joe will be agreeing to some of the allegations made against him.’

  ‘Which allegations?’

  ‘Peter, you know I can’t tell you.’

  ‘Was our government at this hearing? Someone from the consulate?’

  ‘The hearing was in closed court,’ Li said. ‘I have advised your consulate of the outcome.’

  ‘What are you telling me?’ Tanner said loudly, anger rising inside him. ‘Did Joe plead guilty today?’

  ‘The prosecutor indicated provisional agreement to limit some allegations. A date for the taking of a formal plea will be later, at which time the sentencing will occur. I’m working towards a sentence with the prosecutor which I believe will be a favourable outcome.’

  ‘Later? Does that mean after the Bageeyn River gold mine is approved? Does Joe get some discount for shutting up until then?’

  There was a long pause before Li spoke. ‘I have no idea what that means, Peter.’

  ‘What’s a “favourable outcome”? Is this the deal Melissa told me about?’

  ‘The prosecutor will recommend ten years.’

  ‘Well, that will be double what the Cheungs think the real deal is.’

  ‘Again, Peter, I don’t know . . .’

  Tanner held the phone away from his ear and closed his eyes for a moment. Yelling at a lawyer who was eight thousand kilometres away wasn’t going to help.

  ‘Listen, there’s no formal plea entered, right? Just an indication that there’s likely to be? Is that correct?’

  ‘That there will be a plea.’

  ‘And Joe asked you to tell me this? That’s why you’ve called?’

  ‘There is another reason.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He asked me to tell you that it won’t be helpful to him if you continue to – and these are his words – “explore the rivers”.’

  Melissa had told Joe about what he’d found on the Citadel bills. About his discussions with Gabriella Campbell over her report, and his visit to Tovosevu with Anne Warren.

  ‘Why won’t it be helpful? Is that your advice?’

  ‘I have no view on the matter, Peter. I am only passing on what I was asked to.’

  ‘When are you back in court?’

  ‘I would expect November or December at the latest for final sentencing. We will be informed shortly.’

  ‘Can you let me know when a date is set?’

  ‘If Joe instructs me to.’

  Tanner wanted to yell at him again. ‘Please just call me, Li, okay? Just let me know.’

  After the call, Tanner made several pages of notes. When he reviewed them he shook his head, and wondered if he was more tired than he thought. Justin Matheson’s murder trial commenced in October – he had a little over five months. Joe’s plea might be two months after.

  He listed the things he still needed. Anne Warren’s report. Gabriella Campbell. Sally Cook’s divorce file for Nikki Richter. Working out what to do with what he knew about Tony Kerr. Finding Klaudia Dabrowska.

  Paul Matthews of International Investigation Services had so far drawn a blank on Klaudia Dabrowska. Jade Models had no address for her, and she wasn’t in the telephone directory or on an electoral register. No one of that name was using any social media sites, or was listed as the owner of any property. They’d been able to find where her father had worked, and to get an address, but when they checked, he was no longer living there. They did a property ownership search on him at the same time, and came up blank.

  The last thing Tanner did that night was send an email to Matthews.

  Paul, he wrote, A couple of things:

  1. Increase the attempts with Klaudia Dabrowska. I’ll get funds by EFT to you from Sharrop & Prentice.

  2. Do you have Italian agents? I need someone found. I will pay this myself. Let me know what’s needed. I’ll provide some possible locations.

  Thanks, Peter Tanner.

  34

  Alejandro Alvares was sitting on a stool at an outdoor table for two. Dinner was at Tanner’s invitation, a restaurant at Rose Bay, not far from Alvares’s home in Vaucluse. Cooler weather had arrived, and the orange glow of a heater next to the table slid across the sheen of Alvares’s hair as he turned to greet his host.

  ‘Isn’t it a bit cold out here for your Latin blood, Alejandro?’ Tanner said as he sat down.

  Alvares shrugged and motioned towards the water. ‘I like to watch the paseo on the harbour,’ he said. ‘We’ll go inside for dinner.’

  Tanner nodded.

  ‘Shall we order wine, or will you join me for an aperitivo first?’

  ‘I’ll wait.’

  ‘There’s a Bordeaux on the list I like.’

  Tanner raised his eyebrows.

  ‘You don’t approve, Peter?’

  ‘H
ow’s your nephew?’ Tanner asked as Alvares signalled to a waiter.

  ‘Tomas is doing well. Considering.’

  ‘Considering he should be doing a sentence nearly twice as long, I should hope so.’

  Alvares didn’t answer him, but told the waiter they’d have a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti la Tache.

  ‘Changed your mind?’ Tanner said.

  Alvares adjusted the scarf he had wrapped around his neck. It was a vivid pistachio green. Tanner didn’t need to look to know it probably matched the colour of his socks. ‘You told me once of your preference for Burgundies. Am I correct?’

  Tanner knew the wine would cost a four-figure sum. He now regretted the smashed hairbrush. ‘I hope it lives up to the hype.’

  ‘It’s not hype, Peter. It’s eight centuries of history.’

  ‘That is a long time.’

  ‘Four years is a long time for a young man.’

  Tanner leant forwards a little. ‘And four more would be twice as long.’

  Alvares narrowed his eyes. ‘Do you need something from me, Peter?’

  Tanner smiled. ‘It’s cold out here, Alejandro. Let’s talk at our table.’

  They went inside, and were led to a table by one of the windows overlooking the water. Alvares handed the waiter his scarf. A sommelier soon arrived with the bottle and showed the label to Alvares, who glanced at it before nodding. They remained silent as the cork was removed, and Alvares tasted it. ‘After it’s decanted,’ he said to the waiter, ‘you can take our orders.’

  ‘Could you taste eight centuries of history, Alejandro?’

  ‘It’s haunting,’ Alvares said. ‘They way things are that close to perfection.’

  ‘What will you have it with?’

  ‘The scallops and chorizo to begin,’ Alvares said, ‘the smoked duck breast to follow.’

  ‘Just what I was thinking.’ Tanner took a sip of water, and looked at Alvares without speaking for a long moment. ‘You told me your family was grateful after Tomas’s appeal,’ he finally said. ‘I was wondering if you could do me a favour?’

  Alvares smiled fractionally. ‘Do you want me to pay for the wine, Peter?’

  Tanner shook his head slowly. ‘Only if it doesn’t live up to expectations.’

  Alvares raised an eyebrow. ‘I believe we’ve paid your bill?’

  Tanner smiled. ‘That’s not a favour, Alejandro. That’s a minimum requirement.’