by Ber Carroll
‘I went off on a tangent,’ she said, ‘trying to figure out how Frank got DC Solutions set up as a vendor in Oracle – I found out that James set it up at the end of June.’
‘Doesn’t he set up all the vendors?’
‘Most of them. Alan Harris also has access but only as a backup. James set this one up. The auditors weren’t happy about the accounts payable clerk having access to set up vendors. They considered it a control weakness … Do you remember?’
‘Yes, I remember talking to you about that,’ he said. ‘It was the day after I arrived, our first meeting.’
She knew he was smiling at the memory. She continued, ‘The real anomaly is that James told me a few weeks ago that he had a phone number on the system for DC Solutions … Emma looked it up last night and there’s no number – he lied.’
She paused to take a breath and Robert said, ‘Maybe he got confused …’
‘No, he was adamant that he never had any problems contacting them – and there’s something else that supports my suspicions.’
‘And what is that, my little sleuth?’ Robert asked teasingly.
‘Fiona and James are planning an expensive holiday. She said that James is paying, but you and I know that his salary isn’t that big …’
‘Maybe he has money in his family?’
‘No, Fiona told me before that his family are not well off.’
They were both silent for a few moments.
Robert spoke next. ‘Well, it looks like we have a circle of three: Frank, James … and Wayne.’
‘Do you mean Wayne Costello?’ she asked, remembering that Wayne was Robert’s friend.
‘That’s where I’ve been expending my energies since we last spoke: Mr Ralph Wayne Costello.’ His sarcasm did not hide his disappointment.
‘Ralph Costello – he’s the other director of ARS!’ Claire said, recognising the name from the report.
‘Correct – and Wayne has friends who happen to be the directors of DC Solutions,’ Robert said flatly.
Claire tried to piece it together. ‘So Wayne incorporated the companies, Frank signed the invoices and James paid the money … Is that how it worked?’
‘I think so,’ Robert replied with a yawn.
‘But why did Wayne involve you? Why did he make you a director?’ Claire’s mind was fresh, working through the puzzle.
‘I have no idea. Maybe he figured I would be first in the firing line if his scheme was ever found out. He would be long gone by the time the police had finished with me and turned their attention to the other director. Nobody in Amtech knows that Wayne’s first name is Ralph … I’ve been his friend for ten years and I didn’t know … and I was also blissfully unaware that he knew Frank.’
Robert thought again about the night he had told Wayne he was going to Sydney. Looking back, he should have registered that Wayne’s behaviour was out of the ordinary. Robert was starting to blame himself. He was too tired to think rationally.
‘How did he get your signature to be a director in the first place? Don’t you have to sign some documents for the SEC?’ Claire asked, in an attempt to bring him back on track.
‘That would have been easy for him – I’m director of over thirty different Amtech subsidiaries. I usually trust those around me to ensure there’s nothing untoward in what they give me to sign. I’ll know better in future,’ he replied with a deep sigh.
‘So what now, Robert?’
‘I don’t think you and I can get any further on this. We take what we have and give it to the police – they should be able to find the missing pieces.’
What does it mean for us, Robert?
‘I want you to come over here, Claire, while I get this sorted out,’ he continued without any expression in his voice.
‘I have this interview coming up, for a job in Melbourne.’ She said it to test him, to find out where he was really at with their relationship.
‘Please come over, just while I sort it out, then we’ll go back to Sydney together.’
‘Together?’
‘Yes, unless you don’t love me like I love you … I’ve never asked you … Do you love me?’
Robert was asking her to take yet another risk with him. But admitting to her feelings was the biggest risk of all.
‘Yes, I do.’
Chapter 24
Cherie was waiting for her in the foyer. Julia put down her suitcase to give her an impulsive hug. She signed out, the attending nurse watching her cynically, undoubtedly thinking that she would be back again sometime in the near future.
As Julia turned around, she spotted Amy coming down the corridor, presumably to say goodbye. She rushed Cherie outside so she would not have to make introductions.
They were mostly silent on the drive into town.
‘I’ve booked us both into the hairdressers this afternoon … After that I thought we might do some shopping,’ Cherie said as they sat down at a tiny table in an overcrowded restaurant.
‘Sounds good to me – I badly need a makeover,’ Julia replied, touching her hair as she spoke, drawing Cherie’s attention to the dark roots. Cherie thought she looked different, not just her hair, which was usually impeccable, but her face. She looked drawn, tired. The three weeks had obviously taken a lot out of her.
‘Have you seen Robert recently?’ Julia asked after the waiter brought the menus.
‘No, I haven’t … but I talked to him on the phone yesterday. Maybe now that you are both back in town you could come over for dinner some evening.’
Julia glanced down at the menu. ‘That would be nice.’ The food selection was good: shrimp, chicken, rump steak, risotto. She flicked the menu over to see what drinks were on offer: coffees and teas, juices and lemonades, shakes and smoothies, wine and champagne. Her mouth was dry. She saw an ice bucket on a nearby table, a dark green bottle inside, titled slightly. ‘Let’s have some champagne to celebrate.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said Cherie quietly.
Julia laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. Of course I can have champagne. Honestly, Cherie, if you saw the people in that place, you’d quickly realise that I do not have a drinking problem.’ She signalled the waiter.
‘Julia, please don’t.’
The waiter came and Julia gave him the order.
‘Please don’t ruin everything you’ve achieved over the last few weeks,’ Cherie tried again.
When Julia didn’t answer, Cherie stood up, putting on her jacket as she spoke.
‘I’m not going to sit here and watch you do this.’
She walked away just as the champagne arrived.
Claire tried Den’s work number. When he didn’t pick up, she tried his mobile. She was about to give up when he answered.
‘Thank God I’ve got you,’ she said with relief.
‘Claire? What’s wrong?’
She could hear the background noise of traffic – his voice was uneven as he walked.
‘Den, I have to go to California. I’m at the airport right now.’
‘A holiday?’ he asked with friendly interest.
‘Not exactly, more like a mission … Look, something is going to happen, something that will affect Fiona.’ Her words tumbled out when she saw that her flight was boarding.
‘What? Is she all right?’ His concern was genuine. She knew she had been right to call him.
‘Yes, she’s okay now, but something bad is going to happen with James in the next few days.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ He didn’t waste time; it was the lawyer in him that she had rarely seen.
‘I won’t be here. She’ll need someone – she’ll be devastated – can you make sure she’s all right?’
‘Of course I can, Claire, but tell me what’s happening – are you okay?’ he asked urgently.
‘I can’t tell you what’s happening, Den. But I’m fine. Just keep an eye on Fiona for me … I’ve got to run, they’re doing a final boarding call.’ She ran through the gate, the last passenger to
board.
She settled into her seat and the plane moved back from the gate. It progressed down a series of minor runways and joined the queue for take-off. When it reached the top of the queue, it hurtled down the runway and soared into the sky, leaving Sydney behind without a backward glance.
Claire leaned forward to look out the window. From this height the Harbour Bridge was a small black arch, and the harbour itself seemed like nothing more than a river. It was a beautiful day. The city sparkled, melded to the Pacific Ocean by a line of beaches.
She sat back in her seat. Something was niggling her. The connection between Frank and James was grating away, opening up new possibilities.
Frank and James. James and Paul. Frank, James, Paul …
She was too tired to think it through. She reclined her seat and shut her eyes.
Julia was terribly disappointed that Robert wasn’t there when she got home. She called out his name as she closed the front door, only to be met with a resounding silence. She kicked the mail that was on the floor out of her way. She called his name again.
Well, how was he to know the exact time I would come in? she reasoned with herself as she brought her bags upstairs. He couldn’t stay at home all day waiting for me.
The house seemed bare. It was probably because she had been away for a while and was now seeing it with new eyes. Coming back downstairs, she picked up three weeks of mail from the floor, shaking her head at the fact that Robert had not dealt with it. He must have been very busy.
The doorbell rang. Her chest felt tight with anticipation, but it wasn’t Robert. She should have known it wouldn’t be – he had a key. It was an elderly man. His pale eyes twitched and his scrawny hands fidgeted with the envelope he was holding. She regretted opening the door in such haste.
‘Are you Julia Pozos?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I have some papers for you.’ He thrust the envelope at her.
She had no option but to take it. ‘What …’ She started to question him but he was gone, scurrying down the driveway in his battered loafers.
She went to the conservatory, checking her reflection in the mirror on the way, wanting to look perfect should Robert come home. She had gone to the hairdressers without Cherie and loved the elegance of her new haircut. The girl had also gone over her black roots with fresh highlights. Satisfied with her appearance, she sat down and opened the old man’s envelope.
Family Law …
She had only seen divorce papers once before. She stared at them in shock before smiling weakly.
Robert is having a joke on me. I’ll kill him for giving me a shock like this when he comes home.
She put them down on the coffee table without reading any further. Her hands shook as she went through the rest of the mail.
‘I thought you were going shopping with Julia,’ Wayne said when Cherie came home prematurely.
‘Don’t ask …’ Cherie replied, her face flushed with disappointment.
‘What’s she done now?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Wayne was feeding their two-year-old. They were both making a mess. Cherie took the spoon from Wayne and coaxed Max to open his mouth.
‘I was talking to Robert on Tuesday – I forgot to tell you he called me,’ she said, calmed by the routine of feeding Max.
‘Why did he call?’ Wayne’s voice was tense and she looked up from Max to check what was wrong with him.
‘Just to say hello … I asked him about this trouble you said he was in …’
‘What did you do that for? I told you it was confidential.’
His rebuke seemed over the top to Cherie. ‘Because I was worried about him … Anyway, he said that he’s getting it sorted out.’ Max started grabbing the spoon and she resumed feeding him.
‘What did he mean by that?’
‘I presume he meant exactly what he said: he’s getting it sorted out.’
Wayne went outside, the only place where he could be alone to think without the children climbing all over him. Robert clearly needed something to distract him, something to take his mind off playing Sherlock Holmes.
Wayne’s mobile was in his shirt pocket. He used it to call Julia.
‘Hello, Julia, it’s Wayne.’
‘Hello.’ He heard surprise in her voice. Wayne rarely spoke to Julia unless it was a necessity. Even she knew that he disliked her.
‘Julia, I’ve something to tell you … It’s about Robert … He’s been having an affair … with a girl in Sydney called Claire Quinlan … She works for him … Everybody knows about it. I thought you shouldn’t be the last to find out.’
There was no reaction on the other side. He was left with the dialling tone when she hung up. He smiled. She would go crazy. That would keep Robert busy for a while. The frustrating thing was that Donald was perfectly happy to forget about the matter. Robert was the only problem. Wayne looked at his watch. Now that Cherie was home early, he could go back to the office for a few hours.
David Di Gregario had responded to Robert’s message overnight.
Frank’s previous employer was Zenith Systems, in California.
Robert rang Cherie. He hung up when Wayne answered. He waited an hour before trying again.
‘Hi, Rob.’ Cherie sounded tired. ‘I sent your stuff by courier. Did you get it?’
‘Yes, thanks. I was just looking at the list for the party. Did you remember to include some of Wayne’s friends from his last job?’
‘The crowd from Zenith? That was a long time ago. Wayne hasn’t kept up contact with them.’
Zenith! Zenith Systems is the connection between Wayne and Frank. That’s how they know each other.
‘Sorry, Cherie. I have a call coming through – I need to go.’ Robert wanted to get off the phone so he could think.
All this effort and risk for one million Aussie dollars. Why would Wayne bother?
Robert suddenly realised he was missing the obvious. Claire was the only reason the scam had stopped at a million. If she hadn’t cottoned on as early as she had, the dollars involved would have been a lot more.
Julia sat in stunned horror, her perfectly made-up face and newly styled hair sagging simultaneously. When she looked up she noticed that half of the CDs on the CD rack were missing. She swung around wildly to find that most of the books on the bookshelf weren’t there, the remaining few lying flatly without the others to prop them up. He had moved out; his things were gone. That was why the house seemed bare.
The bastard, the fucking bastard! How could he do this to me? Who the hell is this Claire Quinlan? An Australian slut, probably half his fucking age!
It was some time later when she pulled herself up from the sofa. She walked numbly from the conservatory to the living room. She emptied the drinks cabinet of its contents, cracking the glass as she slammed the door. She lowered herself onto the soft thick carpet, surrounded by the bottles of vodka, bourbon and wine. Opening all the bottles at once, she drank without a glass, carelessly spilling the liquid on herself and the cream carpet in her haste to take the edge off the pain. All elegance was gone, her face distorted by bitterness, hatred in her half-shut eyes.
The fucking bastard! I hate him! I fucking hate him!
She emptied the contents of her bag on the floor, desperate to find the packet of aspirin she always carried with her. There were only a few tablets left. She gagged as she tried to swallow them together. Then she drank until a furious calmness descended.
Claire woke, the conundrum of Frank, James and Paul immediately bombarding her consciousness. An image of Paul at James’s desk flashed into her mind. It was the day she had got angry with James for breaching security regulations. She had assumed they had been playing computer games. Was it possible they had been in Oracle? In the sales orders module?
Paul in Queensland. Paul and Frank in Queensland at the same time. Amtech losing the Queensland government contract … to Digicom.
She knew a significant port
ion of Paul’s salary was commission-based. Winning the Queensland government contract would have meant a big pay cheque for him. Now that she thought about it clearly, any information that Paul could glean on Amtech would give him a competitive advantage not only on the Queensland government deal but any other tender where both companies were bidding. She realised that Frank had no commission to lose by passing on pricing information as he wasn’t going to meet his quota for the year. Frank would have signed a confidentiality declaration when he joined Amtech, just as she had. Would a flimsy declaration be enough to stop him from passing information to Paul? Was Paul paying him under the table for the privilege?
She recalled Paul’s incessant questions about Amtech, his obsession with everything she did at work.
Why did he date me? He didn’t seem to care that much when I broke it off.
There seemed to be only one answer: he wanted information on Amtech. Considering he had two other sources of information in James and Frank, he must have felt that he had all bases covered. She would tell Robert when she got to San Francisco. They would figure it out together. She looked at her watch: two hours to go. Robert was going to meet her off the plane. He would catch her up in his arms and hug her tight. Then he would kiss her, knowing that he loved her and she loved him. Only two hours, the time it would take to watch a movie, or read a magazine cover to cover, before they were reunited.
‘I thought I made it perfectly clear that I didn’t want you to pursue this any further,’ said Donald, his voice rising in volume.
‘And I thought I made it perfectly clear that I would clear my name,’ Robert returned.
‘You’re saying that Wayne Costello is behind this?’ Donald stood up so he was at eye level with Robert across the desk. ‘It’s ludicrous, Robert. You’re totally losing your sense of reason.’
‘I think I have enough evidence to give the police a damn good start at piecing the whole scam together,’ Robert replied confidently.
Donald’s pale face darkened with anger. ‘I said I didn’t want the police involved at this point!’
Robert didn’t baulk. ‘I know what you said. You’re forgetting that I’m also an officer of this company – I have the same responsibilities as you and I’m not going to sidestep them in order to save face for the company.’