Part 19 (1/2)

Hank put his hands on the desk. They were big, powerful hands, but the way he placed them indicated his professional impotence. 'I guess we'll have to do some rethinking,' he said.

I hadn't mentioned Phil Fitzwilliam's second coming to Hank or Megan, out of a long habit of keeping tricky things to myself. That made it loom as even more tricky. To reveal it at this point would surely increase DS Roberts's doubts. She'd been taking notes as we spoke. Now she tapped her pen against her big white teeth.

'And where and when is this b.l.o.o.d.y gunfight at the OK corral going to take place?'

Hank and I exchanged glances before Hank shook his head. 'I'm afraid we're not at liberty to reveal that.'

'I said I could arrest you.'

'The meeting'd still go ahead,' I said. 'Just that our side would be undermanned.'

'You're bluffing.'

I shrugged. 'If you say so. Why don't you put it to Ian d.i.c.kersen that he's got a chance to close out a high profile murder case and drop some corporate creeps in the s.h.i.+t.'

'Ian's not a big noter.'

'You don't get to his level without making a name for yourself,' I said. 'And there're always more steps to take.'

She chewed that over, and she wouldn't have been human if she hadn't been thinking about her own part in the scheme of things. She closed her notebook and tucked it into a smart black leather bag that had a discreet Aboriginal flag medallion attached.

'I'll report to him and we'll be in touch.'

'Make it soon,' I said.

'You know what your great talent is, Mr Hardy?'

'I'd like to know,' Hank said.

She stood, ready to go. 'Almost, but not quite, p.i.s.sing people off.'

Good exit line and she took it.

Hank was grinning and I gave him the bird. 'What she means is, my style leaves s.p.a.ce for charm.'

So it was a waiting game-us waiting for d.i.c.kersen; Crimond waiting for us; Lachlan waiting for Crimond; Patrick Fox-James waiting for Megan; Phil Fitzwilliam waiting for me. In all this I'd almost forgotten about Margaret and I wasn't ready for her call at home that night.

'Cliff, this is Margaret. Please pick up if you're there.'

I hesitated and I wasn't sure why. I didn't know anymore whether the relations.h.i.+p was professional or personal or a mixture of both. Confusing. While I hesitated, I had a flash of us making love in the motel. Over the years, so many motels, and a few of them, with similar scenes playing out. Mostly signifying nothing. I grabbed the phone.

'Margaret.'

'Cliff.'

There was a pause and then she laughed. 'What is this, a scene from Nol Coward?'

I laughed, too. 'I was deep in thought.'

'About me?'

'And other matters.'

'You know that old joke about the girl who falls in love with the gorilla, but he doesn't call, he doesn't write. These days you could add-he doesn't email, he doesn't text.'

'I'm sorry. A lot has been happening, some of it good, some not so good. I was holding off until we had a result.'

'Are you close to that?'

'We could be, but it might all still go wrong.'

'Well, I'll leave that to you and Hank and Megan, but I was really calling about ... us. I miss you.'

A statement like that should warm the heart, but it caught me on the hop. With a string of failed relations.h.i.+ps behind me I was never confident the next time at bat. My wife Cyn had provided the diagnosis long ago. 'You live in your head, Cliff,' she said, 'with your clients and victims and perps. Everyone else just flits in and out.' It hadn't been a problem with Lily, possibly because we both did the same thing, but it had brought things unstuck in the past. It was time to snap out of it, if I could.

'Margaret,' I said, 'don't give up on me.'

'Give me something not to give up on.'

I tried. I talked. I gave her a version of where things stood with the investigation, but I could tell that wasn't what she was asking. I knew I was deliberately misinterpreting what she said. I suspect she knew it as well. I had a sense that she was involved in some kind of decision process, involving me, perhaps, but without telling me the terms. It all made for a very unsatisfactory phone conversation.

24.

DS Roberts rang the next morning to say that d.i.c.kersen had agreed to go along with our plan with several non-negotiable provisos: Roberts herself and another officer were to be given several hours' notice of the venue and time of the meeting. They were empowered to inspect the meeting place and to cancel the event if they thought it unsatisfactory. They were empowered to intervene at any point they chose.

'What if we don't agree?' Hank said.

'Then you and Mr Hardy will be proceeded against on various charges relating to violation of the Private Enquiry Agents Act and withholding information from the police in respect of several serious crimes.'

'Several?' Hank said.

'The shooting at Double Bay and the death of Henry McKinley.'

'We don't have any hard evidence on the shooting.'

'Hard or soft, you haven't told us everything you know.'

'The same might go for you.'

'We're the authorities, you're not.'

'You win,' Hank said. 'We should know where and when by early afternoon. Who do we contact?'

'Who d'you think?' she said.

We waited a few hours and then started phoning. I told DS Roberts the meeting was set for seven thirty and that I'd meet her and her colleague at my house at five. Hank phoned Ross Crimond and told him the time and place-giving him a few hours to contact the Lachlan people. I phoned Megan with the information and arranged for her and Fox-James to meet us in the office for a briefing.