by Peter Corris
We trooped into the terminal and Joe stayed with them until the plane left. Ralston and I drank coffee while we waited for him. He came towards us jauntily, looking ten years younger than when I’d last seen him.
‘To the bar, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘For champagne or whatever pleases you. A fantastic job you blokes did.’
I shook my head. ‘You can get us another coffee, Joe. Keith here doesn’t drink, and it was him that did the hard part.’
Ralston stood up and shook Joe’s hand. ‘I was happy to help, Mr Galvani. You and Cliff should go and have your drink. The worst thing a bloke in my spot can do is be a wet blanket. I’m going home to get some sleep.’
‘Thanks, Keith,’ I said. ‘I’ll get you that job if I have to make O.C. eat the lifts out of his Florsheims.’
He laughed and looked genuinely happy for the first time. ‘One thing, did you see me hesitate before I let go at the car?’
‘No.’
He laughed again. ‘Yeah, in all the excitement I forgot which shell had the birdshot, the first or the second. I bloody nearly gave him the first one.’
24
Joe Galvani was left holding all the cards and he played them judiciously. There was no way of proving that Ken’s hirelings had killed Scott and Joe did not pursue the matter. He had no wish to devastate his elderly parents by branding their oldest son a fratricide. But he punished Ken severely where it hurt—in his pride and purse. He forced him to withdraw the Ultimo site from consideration as a home for the casino on pain of revealing Ken’s conflict of interest and his intimidation of the dead architect. Ralston’s evidence of Ken’s manipulation of various of the casino’s resources for his own ends also came into play. The creditors came down hard on Ken and his businesses went rapidly into receivership and liquidation.
I gave Gina a full report over the telephone early on in the proceedings. She backed Joe’s decision and we both choked up a bit when she said she thought Scott would have approved of the arrangement. She paid me more money than I’d earned and I kept it because she had more than she needed. I finished my stint at the casino and handed over to Nick Stockley, a New Yorker who looked as if he knew his way around. O.C. approved my recommendations that Keith Ralston be promoted to security 2IC and that the head of the motor pool, Terry Baxter, be sacked.
All of which left me back at square one, with my Glebe house in need of repair, my office under constant threat of demolition, my stiff shoulder and my usual run of clients. One night I walked to the Cafe Napoli and encountered Vita Drewe who was leaving. She looked right through me and Dylan showed his teeth. I still had the cat and the Falcon and several friends, but I was definitely minus Glen Withers. A few weeks after Ken Galvani was declared bankrupt an invitation arrived—to the wedding of Glenys Ernestine Withers and Warren Blake Purcell. Maybe I’ll go and maybe I won’t. What sort of wedding present do you give two coppers?
As for the permanent site for the casino, the selection procedure was delayed when Ken’s bid was withdrawn. Last I heard, they were still talking about it.