by Derek Haines
‘And how have you found it, working here?’
‘I started here after I closed Watson’s. Well, it closed me more like,’ he said with a laugh. ‘It’s been great. I manage the transport operations, you know, just keep things moving. Far easier than the pressure of running my own business. You know how tough it can be.’
‘Yes, that’s for sure. How often do I drive? How many hours?’
‘Strictly legal hours. No fudging log books here Tony. You’d be expected to work five days a week, but it wouldn’t be Monday to Friday of course.’
‘No, never is. There’s only one question I have Ted.’
‘And that is?’
‘Vince Walsh. What does he have to do with this?’ Tony asked. He felt he had to put his mind at rest before he accepted. He felt he could trust Ted Murphy.
‘Have you met Vince?’
‘Yes I have.’
‘Well Tony, Vince’s been here twice in two years. He’s only got a small share holding. If you want the truth, I have more shares in As New Parts than Vince. The controlling interest is held by an investment company in Sydney. So what’s your concern?’
‘I don’t know Ted, I just felt a little uneasy with him. That’s all,’ Tony said, holding back his desire to ask Ted if he was a crook.
‘Yeah, I can understand that Tony. Vince is a successful and powerful man. But, I can assure you if you’re concerned at all about Vince. Forget it. You’ll never see him here.’
After informing Tony of the salary and conditions, Ted showed Tony around the office and warehouse. Parked inside was a very new Kenworth rig. The words, ‘AS NEW SPARES. - AS GOOD AS NEW’ were emblazoned down the length of the rig.
‘Is there just the one rig?’ Tony asked.
‘No, there’re two. The other one’s based in Melbourne. It does the Adelaide and Perth run. Sometimes though, you might cross routes, depends on what has to go where. But it’s only the two,’ Ted explained.
‘So what happened to the last driver?’ Tony asked. His suspicions still alive.
‘Oh, he was a nice fella. He joined not long after me. But his mother is ill, or something like that, so he’s returned to New Zealand.’
‘Well, what do I say? I think I’ve run out of questions.
‘When can you start Tony?’
‘Whenever you want Ted.’ Tony could see no reason not to accept. It was a great job.
‘How about starting with a run to Melbourne on Wednesday afternoon? Do you still know your way down the Hume Highway?’
‘I believe I do Ted. That’s the road that starts with a mixed grill at Joe’s isn’t it?’
‘That’s the one Tony.’
Tony shook Ted’s hand. The job was his.
‘How did you go?’ David asked when Tony returned to the flat.
‘I’m employed. Should be able to pay the rent now.’ Tony also wanted to pay back David and Steve as soon as possible for the money they’d lent him for his fine and bond. He didn’t like being in debt to friends.
‘That s great. When do you start?’
‘Wednesday afternoon,’ Tony smiled. After all his suspicions about Vince Walsh, he was now happy to be back in work. He was comfortable working.
‘Looks like I get the flat to myself a bit huh?’ David said. ‘Might even entertain a lady or two.’
‘You should get back to work too. You’re gonna go mad staying in this place,’ Tony said.
‘I will. When things are settled,’ David said confidently. Inwardly, he didn’t want to bother. He was starting to give up on things. His motivation for the database and his fight for justice and fairness had lost steam. His enthusiasm came and went. For anything. ‘I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. By the way, Steve rang this morning. To see how you got on. He said he might come over this evening. What about we have a dinner out before you start your job?’
‘Yeah. Great idea. I need to thank him again.’
Tony went out after he had a few sandwiches for lunch with David. He wanted to buy some new work clothes, so he was presentable for his first day on Wednesday. Tony hoped his credit card had just enough credit left to afford them. David spent the afternoon moaning about his life to someone in his computer, who was moaning about their life to him. He was in a world of his own. And it was getting smaller by the day. Late in the afternoon, he received a phone call from his accountant. He had been selected for a tax audit by the Tax Department. ‘Oh for fuck sake,’ he thought to himself. ‘Just what I need. Christ, this could be trouble.’ He knew it was trouble. The figures he’d been supplying his accountant had been a little less than accurate. Now that his wife had resigned and sold her shares to him, he would have to take full responsibility. He suddenly remembered that Steve was coming that evening. He would ask his advice, before he saw his accountant John Peters the next the day.
‘Congratulations Tony,’ Steve said as he was greeted by Tony at the door.
‘Thanks Steve. Thanks for your help.’
‘No problem. I hope it all goes well,’ Steve said.
‘Hi there Dave. Have you taken a misery pill?’
‘G’day Steve. Well sort of. I’ve been notified of a tax audit. John Peters rang me this afternoon.’
‘Ooops! Have you been cooking the books a little huh?’
‘How much do you charge for consultancy?’
‘Depends if you’re buying dinner or not,’ Steve smiled.
‘Looks like I’m buying!’
‘Do you mind a little business being discussed during your celebration dinner?’ Steve asked Tony.
‘Not at all,’ Tony naturally answered. ‘Are we ready?’
Over dinner Steve had a look at the accounts David had kept to himself. He had the accounts that he had given John Peters. Steve compared them.
‘You’ve been a little bit naughty David,’ Steve said dryly. Returning to his accountant mode.
‘Trouble huh?’ David asked.
‘The problem is Dave that most of the discrepancies can be traced through bank accounts. You didn’t do very much cash business, so it’s not a difficult audit trail to follow. If you want my honest opinion, you should just admit that you didn’t know how it happened. Blame your ex wife if you have to. But in the end, you’ll have to cop what tax you owe.’
‘Fuck,’ David exclaimed.
‘Next time Dave. If you want to cook your accounts, see an expert. I could’ve achieved the same result without such an obvious trail.’
‘Now you tell me. A bit bloody late.’
‘Yep. It’s too late now Dave.’
‘How much discrepancy is there?’ Tony asked. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Over two hundred thousand I think,’ David admitted. ‘Over about four years.’
‘So you could be up for seventy odd grand in tax?’ Tony asked.
‘It looks that way. So much for my summer vacation huh?’ David joked.
‘This hasn’t been your best year.’
‘You know Tony, you’re not the first person to tell me that.’
‘Well, you and me both,’ Tony said. ‘And how’s your year been Steve?’
‘Started out a bummer, but it’s improving by the day.’
‘You’re working for Vince aren’t you Steve?’ Tony asked directly. ‘He’s not just a client of yours.’
‘Tony. You say what you think don’t you.’
‘Always have Steve.’
‘Yes, I’m employed by Vince Walsh. I know you’ve got your suspicions about him, but he’s ok. He’s been very good to me since I left John Peters. I’m on a good salary, and there are good things ahead for me with him.’
‘So what do you do for him?’
‘An accountant. What else would I do Tony?’ Steve said making a clear message for Tony. ‘He’s got a complex structure of companies. I help minimise his tax. Same as I could’ve done for David if he’d been smart. Sorry Dave,’ Steve added.
‘Ok Steve. Sorry from here too,’ Tony said. �
�I guess I was on the wrong track.’
‘C’mon, let’s get off tax and business,’ Steve said smiling. ‘We’re here to celebrate. Ok?’
‘Ok,’ was the simultaneous response from David and Tony.
David met with John Peters for nearly three hours the next day. John confirmed Steve’s opinion. David was in deep trouble. It would be a few weeks before anything further happened. The tax officer was arriving at John’s office in two days time to begin the audit.
‘I’ll give you a call when they need to see you David,’ John said. ‘Until then you’ll just have to wait for them to do their assessment.’
‘Ok John. That’s something to really look forward to,’ David said sarcastically.
‘Just wait and see. Tell me, I believe you know Steve Sharp.’
‘Yes, yes I do.’
‘How is he? I was so disappointed he left here. I know he was under a lot of personal pressure at the time, but he’d done so well considering his background.’
‘Jail you mean?’
‘You know about that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I just wondered how he was getting along. That’s all. I liked him. It was a loss when he left.’
‘Oh, he seems to be doing just fine for himself. He’s working for Vince Walsh. You know the car dealer?’
‘Yes, I know Vince Walsh. All too well,’ John stood up to wish good day to David. David could see in John’s eyes the suspicion he had for Vince Walsh.
‘Say hello to Steve for me when you see him.’
‘Yes, will do.’
In just a little over four weeks David received his tax assessment. He’d escaped a fraud charge by the skin of his teeth. But he had to pay seventy three thousand five hundred dollars in tax, plus a twenty per cent penalty. A total of over eighty eight thousand dollars. With his property still unsold, he was in deep trouble. In one day he’d gone from being financially comfortable to the depths of debt. He had a little over twenty thousand in the bank. He needed to sell the coast property. And quickly. The problem was, until his consent orders were granted by the court, he couldn’t insist on the property going to auction. He wasn’t permitted to borrow against it either. His tax bill was due for payment in thirty days. He was snookered. If he didn’t pay the tax bill, he was looking at a possible prison sentence. His only option was to try and ask if he could pay by instalments. His request was denied.
Steve mentioned David’s plight, only in passing conversation over lunch with Vince. He was only making conversation.
‘Poor bastard’s had a run of bad luck,’ was Vince’s response.
‘Well, no need to tell you how important it is to stay away from separation and divorce Vince. It’s a minefield these days,’ Steve said.
‘Always has been Steve. Nothing’s changed really. But my wife has nothing to do with my business. That was one of my very first smart business decisions.’
‘Was she involved at any stage?’
‘Yes, for the first year or so. I sacked her when she became pregnant. Never re-hired her,’ Vince said with a laugh.
‘A smart move probably,’ Steve said. Not really knowing how to answer.
‘Tell me Steve, what did your friend do before he had his run of outs?’
‘Plumbing supplies. Import and export, and he seemed to be able to buy from government and semi government departments here in Australia. He was a dealer. You know, the product was of little consequence. I think he just had a good nose for a deal. Buy cheap, sell to the market price and make a margin. A clever buyer and a smart salesman in one.’
‘Worthy attributes,’ Vince nodded. ‘So what’s he doing now?’
‘Vegetating. Disappearing in his gloom and doom. It’s a waste,’ Steve said honestly.
‘Yes, it would seem it’s a waste,’ Vince agreed.
Vince kept a mental note, and jotted a few more entries in his ‘David James Holdsworth’ file when he returned from his lunch.
With Tony away driving for most nights in the week, and Steve settling into his career with Vince Walsh, David found himself alone in his apartment more often. The crushing blow of his tax assessment had been the last in a dreadful year for him. His love he’d had for his wife was now fully transformed into hate. His respect for his first wife had now become contempt. The guilt he had felt for so many years about leaving his children had waned, as he realised he played no role in their lives, and never had. The cycle of losing friends played on his mind. The cycle was returning, with Tony now more interested in his new job, and Steve succeeding in his. They didn’t have time any more to wallow with David. ‘Were they friends? Or did they just use my time to share their misery? Did I help them through their difficult times? And now they abandon me.’ David’s thoughts were confused with depression, guilt and remorse.
Sitting in front of his computer, he typed an inane conversation over the Internet with a woman somewhere in cyberspace. She was alone, somewhere in Canada. It didn’t matter where she was. It didn’t really matter if she existed. All that mattered was that she was unhappy, lonely and depressed about her life. To David it was someone with which to share misery. They could spiral down the gurgler of life together. Since four am when he’d woken from a fitful sleep, he’d sat at his computer. It was now ten am. They said their text goodbyes. He was alone again. Looking around his small flat, he noticed how filthy and shabby it was. This was his world now. His pathetic existence. A kitchen full of dirty dishes, half eaten take aways. The odour of rancid milk. His small living room a clutter of the droppings of life. Newspapers, magazines, full ashtrays and empty beer cans. And he didn’t care. Getting up from his chair in front of his computer, he walked to the door of Tony’s room. The room was clean, neat, tidy. Everything in its place. He closed the door. He was pissed off with Tony for being in such control. Envious that Tony had a job. A reason to get up in the morning, a usefulness.
David had a shower. Standing with the hot water spraying down his neck and back. Lost in the thoughts of a man with nothing to look forward to. Only to look back on. Thoughts of what could have been. What should have been. Of loss andfutility. His mind only reacted to the present when the water started to run cold. Getting out of the shower he caught the sight of himself in the fogged mirror. Wiping it with his hand he looked at his own forlorn reflection. Disappearing as the mirror fogged again with the steam. He wiped it again. Then watched as his reflection disappeared yet again. He wiped the mirror again to make himself appear. ‘You pathetic little man,’ he said to his reflection, and then, watched as he disappeared yet again. ‘I wish you would disappear forever,’ he said as he wiped the mirror and watched his reflection starting to disappear again. ‘You gutless piece of shit,’ he almost cried as his reflection became lost in the steam. The sound of the telephone ringing startled him.
‘Hello, David Holdsworth.’
‘Hello David, it’s Vince Walsh. How are you?’
‘Ahh, fine Vince,’ David said, wondering why in hell’s name Vince Walsh was calling him.
‘David, the reason for my call is that Steve Sharp told me you were having a bit of a rough trot. He’s told me a little about you, and your background. There may be some things we can help each other with. I was wondering if you might be interested in having lunch with me tomorrow?’
David waited to see if Vince had finished talking before he answered. He was also waiting for his own brain to try and figure out what was going on here.
‘I’m, errr,’ David started, and then tried again. ‘Well, yes. Ok, Vince,’ David stammered. Not even knowing what day tomorrow was.
‘One o’clock at the Surf and Turf restaurant. Do you know that one?’ Vince asked.
‘Ahhh, yes, yes I do,’ David managed to say.
‘Good. I’ll see you then David.’
‘Ok, fine Vince.’
David sat down at his small cluttered dining table. He was still dripping wet from his shower, and looked at the puddle he had created near the telep
hone. ‘What the fuck does he want from me?’ he thought as he lit a cigarette. He was lost in his thoughts as water dripped from his wet hair onto the table. ‘Is this when I sell my soul to the devil?’ Then he thought about Steve, and what he’d said about Vince.
‘I know you have your suspicions about him, but he’s ok. He’s been very good to me since I left John Peters. I’m on a good salary, and there are good things ahead for me with him.’
‘Maybe Tony was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with having lunch and a chat,’ David thought to himself, starting the process of justifying in his own mind the thought of possibly working for Vince Walsh. ‘I can’t do any worse than I am now,’ he justified.
He went back to the bathroom and shaved for the first time in four days. He didn’t really know why, but that one telephone call had cheered his day, a little. Just the fact that someone spoke to him was probably enough to brighten his day. Once he’d finished shaving he dressed, and decided to clean up his shit heap of a flat. It took him most of what was left of the day and when he’d finished, it was after six o’clock. His flat almost shone in its tidiness and cleanliness. He’d also done his laundry and ironing. Looking around his little flat, as he enjoyed a cup of coffee and a cigarette, he felt proud of himself. He’d achieved something with his day.
‘What the fuck’s been going on here?’ Tony exclaimed as he walked in the door. ‘Am I in the wrong flat?’
‘Wipe you feet before you come in,’ David jokingly shouted as Tony stood in the doorway.
‘I’ll take my shoes off right here,’ Tony said. ‘I’m frightened to enter. What got into you?’
‘It’s just my domestic persona rising to the surface,’ David smiled. ‘I promise it won’t happen too often. Want some coffee?’
‘Thanks. Great,’ Tony said as he sat down at the table with David.
‘So, how’s work?’
‘You know Dave, I was so concerned about starting with As New Spares, because of the Vince thing, but I can tell you, I’m really enjoying it. It’s a very well run business. Efficient, well planned and organised. Maybe I was wrong. I haven’t seen a thing out of place,’ Tony explained.