Richard and Su-Ying were full of questions when she left Fang’s office but Bella would say nothing until they were safely in the hotel. Even then, mindful of possible eavesdroppers, she was guarded in what she told them.
‘We have a deal,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you about it later.’
She booked a call to Peace and waited.
When it came through she heard the hollow echo that was the sign that someone was listening, as with all telephone calls made by foreigners in China. Well, let them. She had nothing to hide, as far as China was concerned. Australia might be a different story, but she doubted anyone here would care about that.
‘How are things back home?’ she asked.
‘Still hanging in there.’ It was hard to hear Peace’s words through the interference on the line. ‘And you?’
This was the moment. Someone in Australia was trying to destroy the company. Perhaps she could help Gayle Hastings identify who that someone was. She would lay a false trail and see where it took them.
‘I’m fine.’ She spoke in a deliberately sombre voice. ‘But things are not good here. I don’t want to say too much on the phone but you understand what I’m telling you.’
‘Is it definite?’
‘Nothing is ever definite in China,’ she said. ‘But that’s how things look at the moment.’
That evening Mr Fang sent her an envelope containing a piece of paper. On it was written in western script a name, with two numbers: the name in which the Australian land purchases were to be registered and the access code and number of the Swiss bank account from which would come the funds to pay for the deals.
It took two more days to complete the paperwork. Owen Freeth would check everything when they got back to Perth, but Bella had gone over every inch of the documents and was satisfied, so the lawyer’s approval should be little more than a formality. For all practical purposes, it was a done deal.
A good deal it was, too. Bella’s relief was indescribable. The consular jet had barely taken off from Beijing airport before she leant back in her seat, closed her eyes and was at once swimming. Afterwards she could not have said whether she slept or not, but certainly she was disconnected from present reality. The hum of the jet engines transported her not merely in space but in time, becoming the gutsy snarl of the Tiger Moth as it carried her from Miranda Downs on her first trip to the Carlisle River. Miranda Downs… What had Garth said to her? Just before you fall into the Timor Sea, stop. I’ve got a cattle station there. Not only a cattle station but a way of life utterly different from anything she had known before.
‘My life has been one of endless change,’ she told herself.
And there those changes were: a kaleidoscope of images playing out behind her closed eyelids, ever changing yet the same, all playing their part in the evolution of the woman she now was. A thrush sang from the topmost branch of the apple tree beneath the Yorkshire moors; Miss Hunnicut’s spiteful eyes sought fault; mobs of cattle stampeded, their horned heads tossing in an explosion of dust; Garth’s astounded voice said: ‘It looks like hematite.’
Like hematite, like hematite…
The voice faded as sleep came welling out of the tensions of recent days. There was another image, too, faint and gone almost before it had formed. Bella Tucker, neat and precise as always, lips closed and limbs tidy in the reclining seat, slept.
When she awoke two hours later she felt refreshed, yet for a while did not open her eyes as her mind revisited the image that had evaded her earlier. Charles Hardy smiled, his handsome face as young and vibrant as she had last seen it nearly fifty years before, sending the familiar pang through her heart.
‘Charles…’
Bella spoke his name very softly to herself. Garth had been very dear to her. She had never been disloyal or unfaithful to him but Charles Hardy had been the love of her life.
Bella opened her eyes and saw Su-Ying reading in her seat. A treasure, that girl, she thought. She was gentle and delicate as only an Oriental could be, yet also down to earth, more worldly even than Peace at her most bellicose. A real treasure.
Su-Ying, eyes focused unseeing on the page in front of her, was thinking how the family had been so nearly destroyed and of her conversation with her father in the apartment in the senior officials’ enclave guarded by soldiers off a side street near Tiananmen Square. His sufferings during the Cultural Revolution had aged him but he was still vital, very much in charge of himself and those he dealt with.
‘This marriage of yours,’ he said. ‘It has made you happy?’
‘Very happy.’
He grunted. ‘And you have two sons?’
‘Yes.’
‘That is good.’ He stared at her severely. ‘You know I would have forbidden it had I been in a position to do so?’
From the moment she had known she was coming to Beijing Su-Ying had expected the question and had prepared her answer.
‘I would have welcomed Father’s wise advice. But since I had to make my own decisions I did what I thought was best for China.’
‘In what way was it best for China?’
‘What benefit was there for China in my coming back to work in the fields as a peasant? You sent me to Australia to learn what I could about western ways and western people. By staying there I have learnt many things. I am a director of a large iron ore mining company –’
‘Which we hold in our hand and can crush whenever we wish.’
‘I do not believe it would be in China’s interests to do this,’ Su-Ying said.
Her father glared. ‘Your opinion is neither sought nor wanted. We in China will make our own decisions.’
‘Of course. Forgive me. I was simply offering my humble opinion –’
‘You say you have learnt much. In what way does that benefit China? With you in Australia?’
‘Because I believe I shall be coming back to China.’
He stared at her. ‘Explain.’
She did so. When she had finished he pondered silently for a while. When he spoke his tone had changed.
‘To rescue the Tuckers from their problems is very simple,’ he said. ‘It also means nothing. It is necessary to kill the snake or it will strike again. I shall contact Comrade Hong in Perth. He has excellent sources of information and will soon discover the identity of the snake.’
‘Could I respectfully ask Father to instruct him to pass any information to Mother-in-law’s agent?’
‘You wish to remain out of it?’
‘It would be best.’
‘That is wise. You have the name of this agent?’
‘I do.’
This would ensure that Mother-in-law never discovered the source of the information. It was not necessary for her to know everything, Su-Ying thought. In the family’s interests they should all be concerned to resolve these problems. It did not matter how it was done; the results were what mattered.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Early on the morning of the third of September, three days before Bella Tucker was expected back from China, Pete Bathurst received a phone call on his private line.
‘Yeah?’
‘Pete? It’s me.’
A grim smile as he recognised his caller’s voice. ‘About time, too, if I may say so…’
‘She only phoned last night.’
‘And what did she say?’
‘She thinks the Chinese aren’t going to play.’
Good news; the best. Pete’s grin widened. ‘I can’t imagine how she ever thought they might,’ he said.
‘If you’re desperate enough –’
Hands on the jackpot at last, Pete was uninterested in speculation.
‘Which leaves the million-dollar question. What are you going to do about it?’
The same day, Gayle Hastings’s assistant Belinda informed her there was a man on the line who said his name was Low.
Gayle knew no one called Low. ‘Did he say what it’s about?’
‘He said it was confidential
.’
It was the nature of Gayle’s business to receive messages from many sources, not all of them willing to be identified.
‘Put him on,’ she said.
The caller had an accent Gayle thought might be Chinese.
‘I have some information for you,’ Mr Low said.
‘One moment.’
Gayle switched on the recording machine she had connected to her telephone.
‘What information is this?’ she said.
She listened attentively while the tape unwound silently in the machine. It was not a long message but undeniably dynamite.
He finished.
Oh dear, Gayle thought. She made it a rule never to get personally involved in her clients’ affairs, but Bella was not only a client but someone she admired – a friend, even. ‘You have proof of this?’ she asked.
Photographs, Mr Low said. And a telephone intercept.
Illegal, of course, but commonplace in the enquiry business.
‘I shall need to see it all.’
‘That might be possible,’ Mr Low said.
‘Proof is essential, if you want me to take it further.’
‘It will be provided,’ Mr Low said.
A click; Mr Low was gone. Slowly Gayle replaced the receiver.
Poor Bella, she thought. The information would devastate her.
It had been a night flight, yet in Bella’s heart the sun had been shining all the way. Hours after the reprieve, she was still dizzy with relief. Not that anyone would have known by looking at her.
‘Welcome home.’ The immigration officer handed back her passport. ‘Good flight?’
She smiled radiantly at him. ‘The best.’
From Canberra they flew to Perth. It was cool but sunny when they arrived: a sparkling day. She stood at the entrance to the domestic terminal and drew the fresh air deeply into her lungs. Clear skies and bright colours: she looked around her with delight; at that moment she could have gobbled up the world.
She had phoned Deborah from Canberra and she was there to meet them. The sun shone on the brilliantly polished Bentley as Bella got into the front passenger seat, leaving the others to climb into the back.
Deborah looked at her. ‘You wouldn’t sooner drive?’
‘Not today, dear.’
They headed for the city and the home it seemed she would no longer have to sell. It was an intoxicating thought.
As they drove she saw Deborah casting covert glances at her. She would be dying to know what had happened in Beijing but would have to wait; the board had to be told before anyone else.
‘Any news for me?’ she asked gaily.
‘Gayle Hastings says she has something urgent to discuss with you.’
Bella took the car phone from its mount and tapped out Gayle’s private number.
‘I’m just driving in from the airport. Deborah says you’ve something to tell me.’
‘Not over the phone.’
‘Very well. My office. Half an hour.’
She hung up. Gayle had sounded troubled but Bella was unconcerned. Nothing could touch her now.
An hour later, having heard Gayle Hastings out, Bella sat and stared at her informant.
Nothing could touch her now, she had thought. She should have known better. She felt sick to the heart. Betrayal…
‘You are sure of this?’
‘I have seen the evidence.’
Of course she had; Gayle was a professional.
‘Very well,’ Bella said.
How weary she felt. Nor had Gayle finished. She took out a pocket recording machine and laid it on the desk.
‘You need to listen to this,’ she said.
Bella took a deep breath, but courage was one quality she had never lacked. She nodded.
Gayle leant forwards and switched on the machine. There was a faint hiss as the tape began to revolve.
‘About time too, if I may say so…’
No mistaking that voice. Nor the one that replied.
‘She only phoned last night.’
Bella stiffened but sat unmoving until the tape was finished. It was hard to look at Gayle but she made herself do it.
‘Is that everything?’
‘That’s it.’ Gayle hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, Bella…’
‘For doing your job? I asked you to find out who was behind it. Now you have.’
She knew she sounded cold but it couldn’t be helped; there was no other way to hide her pain. To soften her response she smiled, stiff-lipped. ‘I’ll take it from here,’ she said. ‘And thank you, Gayle. You will let me have your account, of course. I appreciate your help.’
Alone in her office she sat looking into emptiness.
How could it have happened? Ambition? The need to run the show? The company was going down, so a future had to be found elsewhere? Any or all the above?
Did it matter which it was? Regardless of reasons, betrayal had only one face.
All their figures, cash-flow projections, correspondence with the banks… Bathurst had seen them all. He had known how close they were to bankruptcy, had thought that shutting them out of the railway would provide the tipping point. He must have imagined that Christmas had come twice. Pay back Bella, eliminate Tuckers and pick up the China business, all in one neat package. It had nearly worked, but he had never expected China to jump the way it had. Had she?
‘Never doubted it for a moment,’ Bella said aloud.
If it was a lie, there was no one to hear it but her.
Deborah came hurrying with a cup of coffee and a thick folder in which, Bella knew, would be sheaves of correspondence and telephone messages awaiting her attention. Bella opened the file and began to work her way methodically through the contents, scribbling notes to inform Deborah what had to be done in each case.
Tell him no. But nicely.
Arrange a meeting for early next week.
Tell the vice-chancellor I’ll be pleased to talk to his students.
Work was therapy. Work, ultimately, was all there was.
In half an hour she cleared much of the backlog. Now for it, she thought. She picked up the phone.
‘Get Mr Bathurst for me.’
She smiled savagely as she waited, fingers tapping the desk. The phone rang.
‘Good trip?’ Pete asked jovially. ‘Hot in Beijing?’
Let him enjoy himself, Bella thought. It won’t be for long. ‘On the contrary. There was quite a frost.’
‘Too cold for comfort is what I hear.’
Laughter bubbled derisively and Bella felt good, knowing this despicable man was about to topple off a cliff and didn’t even realise it.
‘I coulda told you you’d be wasting your time,’ Pete told her. Another snort of laughter. ‘By the way, if you’re looking for a job, I’m not hiring.’
‘Is that just me? Or does it include members of my board?’
A moment’s silence. Then: ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Bella ignored the question. ‘Have you heard from the Chinese consulate yet?’
He was suddenly cautious. ‘Why should I be hearing from them?’
‘I’m sure they’ll explain. I need to see you, in any case.’
‘We’ve nothing to discuss –’
‘Think of the telephone conversation you had with a member of my board,’ she said. ‘Two nights ago, wasn’t it? You want me to quote it to you?’
‘I dunno what you’re getting at, Bella –’
‘Here, in my office, three o’clock this afternoon.’
‘I got meetings –’
‘Reschedule them,’ she told him crisply. ‘Or Bradford Gulliver will be hearing from me. And the media. We’re talking photographs, Pete. Tapes. Industrial espionage is so bad for a company’s image, don’t you think? I don’t imagine Mr Gulliver will be very pleased.’
‘Now wait a minute –’
‘Three o’clock, Pete. Don’t be late.’
And hung up before he could protest further.
Bella spoke again to Deborah.
‘I want you to phone Owen Freeth,’ she said. ‘Tell him I need to meet with him as soon as he can make it.’
‘Today?’ guessed Deborah.
‘Preferably last night,’ Bella said.
She returned to her messages.
Banker Halliburton had left several, asking her to phone him as a matter of the greatest urgency. Poor Halliburton… Even in Deborah’s scribble his anxiety shone through. Another one scared for his job, Bella thought. No wonder; if Tucker Mining went down, the bank would lose millions. Never mind; she would get around to easing his fears in due course.
Once again she asked Deborah to come in. ‘Where’s Peace?’
‘A meeting at John Ingram’s office. She expects to be out all day.’
Ingram was the mining surveyor they used for some of their work, his office on the other side of town.
‘Get hold of her. Tell her I want to see her. Tell the rest of the board, too.’ Bella’s blue eyes were as cold as the Arctic. ‘Say I’m convening a meeting in one hour. I don’t care what they’re doing. Just get them here.’
Deborah saw the light of battle in Bella’s eyes.
‘You’ll have a full house,’ she said.
‘We’ll use the boardroom,’ Bella said.
* * *
Bella sat in her usual place at the head of the table and looked at the faces of those she had long considered her family and friends. But every group, it seemed, must have its Judas.
She began by briefing them on the success of the Beijing trip and what it would mean for the future of the group and themselves.
‘Does this mean the company is secure after all?’ Martin Dexter asked.
She had spoken to Halliburton and made numerous phone calls to representatives of the overseas investors. In all cases the response had been ecstatic.
‘The answer is yes.’
Even in this company she would not say what she had come to believe: that soon they would be not only secure but extremely rich.
Dust of the Land Page 45