Flood country

by Robert Maddison

  Todd leaned forward. ‘Who do we have in Melbourne that could help us out?’

  ‘Talk to Vinnie. He’s got bloody cousins everywhere. And find that idiot Wellsmore. Make sure he’s under lock and key. Last thing we need is him getting a conscience.’

  Chapter 33

  On dusk, after a nap, Jack rang Mike to see if he’d had any luck convincing the whistleblower to step forward. ‘Hey, Jack, how’s the shoulder and ribs after the chopper ride?’ Mike enquired.

  ‘Not too bad. Pip’s giving me the royal treatment and I have to go into the hospital again tomorrow for them to check me over,’ he said. ‘How’d you go talking to the whistleblower?’

  ‘I’m about to try her again. Can’t really ring her at work about this, but she should be home now. I’ll get back to you straight after I talk to her,’ said Mike.

  ‘Mike, before you go. Sharon’s detective friend called and wants some of us to go down to Sydney to meet him and his ICAC contact. Pip’s busy tomorrow and I can’t go because of my appointment with Dr Pandit. Sharon can go though. How are you placed tomorrow? We think it’s now urgent to get someone to help us.’

  ‘I could do it in a pinch,’ said Mike, ‘although I’m not too keen on leaving the place at the moment. Suppose I could get Charlie to drop in a couple of times, so there’s someone around a bit. Of course, if my contact won’t help us we haven’t got much to take to these blokes in Sydney have we?’

  ‘True enough. Why not explain to her that ICAC and this detective are taking an interest so she knows we have some friends in the right places. That might help,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’ll give it a go, and give you a call back,’ Mike concluded.

  Mike called the home phone number of his contact and she answered after a few rings. ‘Hi Mary, Mike Thompson here. Are you able to talk, or isn’t this a good time?’

  ‘Not sure there is a good time for this, Mike. Now that Wellsmore’s suddenly gone off on sick leave, the place is rife with gossip about why. No-one knew he was unwell, in fact he’s been bragging of late about how fit and trim he’s been getting with a bit more exercise. The gossip is that he has some form of cancer,’ said Mary.

  ‘Not sure if you’ve heard but we’ve had a few little incidents since I spoke to you last. Someone tried to burn my place down and then they shot my old dog, Max.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t heard about those. I’m so sorry to hear about your dog. I did hear that the Sydney journo fella had had a bad car accident. Hope he’s ok. Someone told me Sharon from the paper was fired up about it and took Pat McMahon to task,’ said Mary, sounding increasingly nervous.

  ‘Yeah, it stinks. That’s all I’ll say for now. Sharon’s now helping us on this and she’s spoken to a detective friend of hers in Sydney. He in turn has spoken to someone in ICAC, the corruption watchdog, and they want us to go to Sydney tomorrow. This could be the break we’ve needed.’

  ‘I can’t just up and go to Sydney, Mike,’ she said, panicky. Mike replied. ‘No, no, I understand that, but if I can’t take your evidence with me we haven’t got much for them to go after.’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Gerry when he gets home. This could be the end for us in this town, you know that. I’ll call you later.’

  About two hours later Mike’s phone rang as he was about to sit down to watch Landline on the ABC. It was Mary. ‘Mike, ok, we’ll do it. We’ve just talked about it over dinner and it would be wrong to not disclose this information. I’d be as guilty as they are. We’ll just have to deal with the consequences, whatever they are,’ she said.

  ‘Mary, how can I thank you? I know this is a tough call to make, so I really appreciate it.’

  ‘No worries,’ the tension was clear in her voice. ‘Before I change my mind, let’s tee up somewhere—not too obvious—for me to pass this over to you.’

  They both contemplated this before Mike came up with an idea. ‘You come into town via the highway I suppose, so why don’t I happen to be at the truck stop filling up as you’re doing the same; at say seven in the morning. We can say hi and you can discretely pass the stuff to me at some point. How does that sound?’

  ‘Sounds good to me. That way no-one will see you coming out to our place, which would really raise suspicions. I’m getting very paranoid—like everyone is watching me now,’ said Mary.

  ‘Hang in there, Mary. We’ll keep your identity a secret for as long as we can. See you tomorrow,’ said Mike.

  Mike called Jack and told him the good news and that he’d come straight to Pip’s after the pickup. Mike also called Sharon and told her and she in turn rang Luke to say she and Mike would be on the 9.15 flight from Dawson getting into Sydney about 11.00 am. They planned to meet Mark, the ICAC man, at noon.

  Chapter 34

  Pete Wellsmore’s head was hurting like hell and his bladder felt like it was about to explode. As he raised his head off the cushion he saw several empty beer stubbies and an almost empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table beside the couch. Now I remember, he thought. Wow, that was a session.

  Staggering to his feet he looked at the clock; 2 am. Wonder what day it is? He stumbled outside to urinate on a big old gum tree. Leaning against the tree for balance, and with an owl hooting quietly nearby—he had a moment of sudden clarity. The night I left my USB stick in the computer at work. Oh my God. Maybe someone found it. He’d been racking his brain for days trying to work out if it was possible for someone to have found his secret stash of records. That must be it. There was no other way.

  Feeling instantly sober from this revelation he decided to go into work and check if he was right. Weaving a path to his car, he headed for Dawson, about an hour away. Since leaving work so suddenly, at the insistence of Des Drummond, he’d been holed up in an old shack he and a few fishing mates used every year for their Australia Day and Easter holiday piss-ups. It was well known to the keen anglers of Dawson but few people went there during the busy summer harvest months.

  Navigating his way to Dawson, Pete convinced himself this was how he could save his career. Find out who the mole was and get Vinnie’s boys to pay them a visit. I can’t do it, he thought, whoever it is will recognise me. Deep in thought and still well over the alcohol limit, he suddenly focussed on a kangaroo on the road. Unconcerned because it was a little one he drove straight over it; the roo bounced off with that distinctive ‘booonnk’ sound from the bull bar. Better take it easy, he thought—wouldn’t want to get breathalysed. He chuckled to himself as he thought—that’s funny, what would McMahon or Lisa do anyway—nothing.

  Wellsmore approached his office building a bit after 3.00 am, parking around near the back entrance in case anyone happened to drive by and recognise his car. He used his security master pass to enter the building via the rear entrance and went straight to the burglar alarm panel to disarm the system. That done, he proceeded to his own office, closed the window shades and turned on his desk lamp before firing up his PC. The network took a few minutes to come alive and once it showed full connectivity he knew exactly where he needed to look—the log of personnel security passes into and out of the building. Each staff member gained access to the building using a swipe card and this information was stored for a variety of ‘big brother’ and security reasons. Using his access rights as a system administrator, Pete navigated his way through to that area and then brought up the records for the few days around when he’d left his USB stick at work overnight.

  After a few minutes, he said, ‘Bingo, there you are.’ Someone had been there that night at the same time as him. Now who was it? A few more keystrokes then Pete sat back, a smug grin spreading across his face. ‘Mary O’Regan, you bitch. So you’re the whistleblower.’

  Before he departed; Pete decided to make one more check, just to be sure. He navigated into the network, finding the G drive where staff stored all their ‘shared’ information. He went to the night in question and to Mary’s account to see what else she searched for, or looked at, that night. Su
re enough, there was his proof. He recognised several of the search titles Mary had executed as being cases which he had made go away. She had his information. Now, to get it back!

  Chapter 35

  Vinnie’s mobile rang. It was Wellsmore. ‘What the fuck are you doing ringing me at this time and where the hell are you?’ Vinnie thundered.

  ‘Vinnie, Vinnie, calm down. I thought it best I make myself scarce for a few days so no-one could come asking me tricky questions, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, you’ve really pissed The Big Man off. Todd tells me he’s more than very unhappy,’ continued Vinnie.

  ‘Tell him it’s ok. Now listen, my reason for calling is that I’ve got some information it would be better for you to follow up than me. Don’t ask me how, but I know who the whistleblower is,’ he said with triumph.

  ‘Are you for real? That will put you back in the good books with The Man.’

  ‘I found out that it’s a woman from my office called Mary O’Regan. She must have found my USB stick and made a copy,’ he said, glossing over how he’d left it at the office after a raging argument with Todd one night.

  ‘Where does she live? We might go pay her a little visit,’ said Vinnie.

  ‘A property called Lyndon about 30 kilometres out on the highway to the north. You’d better get there soon. I’m worried the information will get passed on to bloody Mike Thompson, if it hasn’t happened already,’ urged Wellsmore.

  ‘Leave it with us and you stay wherever you are until I call you. And Pete, next time answer the fucking phone when I call you, understand.’

  ‘Yes Vinnie, I understand,’ he said, ending the call.

  Chapter 36

  Mike arrived early at the truck stop and drove past, did a u-turn and sat a few hundred metres away waiting for Mary to arrive. It was ten minutes to seven o’clock. He was nervous. This could be a defining moment. Finally he’d have the proof he’d craved to bring these bastards down! As the minutes ticked away he recalled all the times he’d tried and been frustrated by bloody Wellsmore, the tap turner. Now, he dreamed, I’m going to bring you and your mates to account for how you’ve cheated the system for all these years, you mongrels.

  It was now five past seven and Mike was starting to get anxious. He checked his watch every few minutes. There was still no sign of Mary by ten past. Maybe she’d had car trouble? Mike thought. Was there any way Mary’s cover could have been discovered? No, only he and her husband knew about this and he’d been very careful to not mention her name to anyone.

  He gave her another few minutes before trying her home phone number. The answering machine kicked in after a few rings. ‘Shit,’ he exclaimed. He didn’t have her mobile number. I’ll give her five more minutes, he thought. Still no Mary, so he decided to drive out toward her place. Maybe she’d had a flat tyre or something as simple as that.

  Ten more minutes passed and Mike pulled to the side of the road and called Jack, who was at Pip’s. Sharon had just arrived there too. Pip answered and Mike blurted out, ‘She’s not shown up yet—what should I do?’

  Pip passed this news onto to Jack, just as Sharon was walking in the door. ‘Oh, bloody hell, let’s hope there’s a simple explanation for this,’ she said. ‘Pip, can I speak to Mike please?’ Pip passed the phone over.

  ‘Mike, what the hell has happened? Do you think she’s gotten cold feet?’

  ‘Could be—she was very uncertain last night,’ said Mike. ‘I’m driving out toward her place to see if she’s stranded with car trouble. I should still have time to get to the airport. We only have hand luggage. I’m on my way now,’ Mike ended.

  Sharon heard the phone go dead and turned to Pip and Jack. ‘That’s a worry. If we don’t get that evidence, our discussions in Sydney will be short and sweet. Hope nothing has happened to her, whoever she may be. I have to head for the airport. If Mike calls back, tell him I’ll meet him there, hopefully with the evidence.’

  Mike continued travelling out toward Mary’s place, hoping to see her car broken down beside the road. After ten kilometres, of the thirty out to Mary’s place, he started to worry about missing the flight to Sydney even though without Mary’s evidence they wouldn’t have much to discuss. Mike felt a tremor of fear run up his spine—God did I somehow help the enemy find her? he thought. No, that’s not possible.

  He turned around and drove back to the airport where Sharon was pacing up and down as he rushed into the terminal. The ground staff recognised Mike and he and Sharon were ushered straight to the departure gate. ‘Just in time, Mike,’a plump middle-aged ground staffer said. ‘We were about to go without you, you silly old bugger.’

  Mike smiled and was about to answer as Sharon clutched his arm firmly. ‘Did you get it?’ she queried.

  ‘No, she didn’t show up. I drove about 10 kilometres out toward her place before I had to turn around to get here in time—shit,’ he declared.

  ‘Let’s just go to Sydney anyway. It can’t hurt for you to meet these guys and tell them what you know. Maybe we should call Pip once we get there and have her check on the whereabouts of your whistleblower. What do you think?’ asked Sharon.

  ‘Yeah, I think that could be wise. I’m very worried about her,’ said Mike.

  Chapter 37

  As the plane ascended through the light cloud and heat haze, with some accompanying turbulence, Mike was deep in worried thought—what had happened to Mary?

  At the same time, in Melbourne, Jennifer was walking the two city blocks from her home in Carlton to school. She normally walked with her friend Bethany but she was late—as usual—and so ‘little miss independent’ set off without her—she’ll catch up thought Jennifer. A light drizzle had started falling and she was rushing to keep dry. A tram rumbled by and she heard the bell ‘ding’ advising the driver someone wanted to alight. She sensed, and then saw a woman walking beside her.

  ‘Good morning, Jennifer, how are you today?’ said a woman with dark features, a big smile and wearing a pretty blue dress with a bright scarf. ‘It’s starting to rain, and your mother asked me to give you a ride to school so you wouldn’t get wet.’

  Jennifer hesitated. She remembered her mother saying to never talk to strangers, but this woman said her mummy had sent her and she did have friendly eyes.

  ‘How do I know mummy sent you,’ she asked, proud of herself for the clever question.

  ‘She said to tell you that she has a big surprise for you tonight; your daddy Jack is coming to visit, and she wants you to look beautiful for him,’ said the dark-haired lady.

  Jennifer thought about that momentarily, before a big smile broke out across her freckled face, her dark brown eyes lighting up at the prospect of seeing her daddy. ‘Then let’s go, I can’t wait to get to school and for the day to end so I can see Daddy,’ she said, clasping the woman’s hand.

  They walked together to a waiting taxi and the woman opened the door for Jennifer. ‘Wow,’ she said, ‘I love riding in taxis.’

  The driver turned around and smiled. He had a piercing through his left eyebrow, greasy hair and the coldest eyes Jennifer had ever seen. She began to feel uncertainty. ‘Please miss, I think I should get out and walk to school.’

  ‘No, Jennifer, you’ll be coming with us for a while, until your daddy does what we want him to do,’ the woman said, now with an open-eyed stare that made Jennifer cringe with fear. She tried to scream but her mouth and nose were suddenly covered with a cloth that smelled awful, and the last thing she remembered was seeing the ugly taxi driver staring down at her.

  Jack was sitting watching morning television, the Ellen DeGeneres show maybe. He wasn’t really paying much attention. Lots of the usual Hollywood crap, he thought. The painkillers had him slightly drowsy and Pip had to go off to work, so what else was there to do?

  His mobile phone rang and indicated it was a ‘private’ number. He answered and before he could even say hello; a deep, gravely voice said, ‘Jack, you’re really starting to piss us off. So we’ve t
aken out a little insurance policy—we have your little girl and if you want to see her alive again, be on the next flight to Melbourne. Stay in Dawson beyond sundown today and they’ll find pieces of little Jennifer washing up around Port Phillip Bay tomorrow. And Jack, don’t fuck with us, don’t go to the cops—we’ll know—and don’t tell any of your do-gooder mates there in Dawson about this or they might be next. Got it, arsehole?’

  With that the tormentor hung up, leaving Jack to shake his head with disbelief; was that a dream, the drugs? No, it was real.

  Crippling fear was the best way to describe how Jack felt. His heart was thumping and his legs felt like jelly. Oh my God, they’ve taken my little angel. Stay calm, stay calm; no fuck that, how can I stay calm? he thought. What to do next. Call Ange, see if it’s real, a threat or a hoax.

  He fumbled his phone, dropped it, cursed out loud, ‘oh shit, come on you idiot, get a grip.’ Recovering the phone, he scrolled through the address book, found Ange’s number and hit it. She answered after a few rings, thank God! ‘Ange, it’s me; listen I don’t have time to explain, but where’s Jen?’

  ‘Hello to you too, Jack,’ she said, not immediately sensing his panic.

  ‘Ange, listen to me, this is serious. I’m chasing a story with lots of bad people involved and they just called to say they’d abducted Jen. Where is she right now?’

  ‘Oh my God, you are serious aren’t you? She went off to school, with Bethany I assume, about 30 minutes ago,’ she said, panic now obvious in her voice too. Just then her mobile made the distinctive text message sound. ‘Hang on, Jack, I have a text; this may be the school.’