Peter Corris - Deep Water

‘Guess who examined her thesis?’ Megan said.

‘Henry McKinley.’

‘Right. He seems to have lured her away from a research post at the ANU to the corporate sector, specifically Tarelton Explorations.’

‘More money.’

‘Lots more, but also more her kind of thing.’

‘Water.’

‘And how it got to where it is and how to get it out. But wait, there’s more.’

Megan was grinning and Hank gave her a high-five sign on the way back to his office.

‘Dr O’Neil lives in Darling Point and her main recreation, at which she’s won prizes by the way, is cycling. She’s a member of the Four Bays Cycling Club.’

‘Like McKinley.’

‘Right. You’re a little late today, but they do an early morning ride every day. We can pick them up at the clubhouse tomorrow around seven-thirty.’

‘We?’

‘With Margaret gone don’t you think you need a woman’s touch, as it were?’

She got on with researching the two other companies McKinley had mentioned while I thought about Phil Fitzwilliam. I hadn’t told anyone about him, thinking that he was my problem. It seemed likely that he had some connection with the business at hand. His threat to Hank’s licence wasn’t just out of personal enmity and spite. I tried to see his approach as an opportunity, and to think of a way to turn it to our advantage. So far, nothing had occurred to me.

My mobile rang. Horace Greenacre.

‘Mr Hardy,’ he said, ‘Ms McKinley paid me a flying visit before she left and she insisted on signing a power of attorney in your favour. I tried to dissuade her but-’

‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘I know what a power of attorney is and I’m as surprised as you seem to be, but why did you try to talk her out of it?’

‘No offence, Mr Hardy, but there’s a good deal of money involved. Henry McKinley’s townhouse is a valuable property. He had substantial investments and a high level life insurance policy, plus superannuation benefits.’

I gripped the phone, wanting to throw the thing at the wall, and swore under my breath. Since the publicity surrounding the loss of my licence, I’d faced this sort of suspicion before. It had surfaced most strongly when I inherited half of Lily’s considerable estate, and here it was again in similar circumstances. I fought to keep my voice somewhere near civil.

‘Listen, Horace, my only interest in Margaret McKinley’s assets is in making use of them to finance the investigation into her father’s murder.’

‘I didn’t mean-’

‘You meant a disgraced private enquiry agent is a crook by definition. Well here’s some instructions for you in respect of your late client and his heir. You get in touch with me when there’s something I have to do in Margaret’s interest, and I get in touch with you when I need something. I’m making notes on this conversation and solicitors have been known to lose their tickets, just like PEAs. Are we clear? Good.’

I cut the call and looked up to see Megan staring at me. ‘Aren’t you supposed to avoid stress?’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be tapping keys?. . Shit, sorry, love. That prick got under my guard.’

‘Keep your right up, then,’ she said.

The phone rang again and I picked it up, steeling myself to be polite. It was Greenacre.

‘Mr Hardy, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot then. My apologies.’

‘Accepted. How can I help you?’

‘Well, it’s rather curious. Ms McKinley was in a considerable hurry as she left and she almost knocked over another client of mine who was just arriving. She was polite, of course. He commented on her haste, her accent and good manners and asked who she was. I told him and he suddenly showed great interest. He said he knew her father and was very anxious to meet her. I told him she was leaving the country almost immediately and he was very put out. I asked if it was a business meeting he had in mind and he said it was. I said I might be able to help. That’s why I’m calling you now-to see if you’re willing to meet him.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Who is he?’

‘His name’s William Holland; he’s the CEO of a company called Global Resources.’

I drew in a breath that must have sounded odd to Greenacre because his voice was suddenly full of concern.

‘Mr Hardy, are you all right?’

‘I’m fine, thank you. Please give Mr Holland my mobile number and ask him to call me in, say, an hour.’

Greenacre said he would and I put the phone down to find Hank and Megan looking at me. I realised that I had a grin on my face of a kind they probably hadn’t seen for a while. I glanced at my watch.

‘What?’ Hank said.

I explained what had happened and the implications and possibilities were obvious. If Global Resources was responsible for McKinley’s death a meeting with Holland might make that clear. Or perhaps Holland knew who was responsible and had useful information.

‘Why didn’t you get him to call you straight away?’ Megan said.

I looked at my watch. ‘It’s one thirty. Let’s say he calls Holland straight off-said he will. I said an hour. Let’s see how keen the CEO of Global Resources really is. I’m slipping out for a drink. What d’you think?’

‘Cute,’ Hank said.

Megan said, ‘Try not to sound as smug as you look.’

At two thirty-three the phone rang.

‘On the dot,’ I said to Megan.

I answered. ‘Hardy.’

‘Mr Hardy, this is William Holland, I’m-’

‘I know who you are, Mr Holland. What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like for us to meet.’

‘Why?’

‘To discuss matters arising from the work the late Henry McKinley was engaged on.’

‘What work would that be?’

‘I think that’s commercially confidential.’

‘You mean you don’t know.’

‘I mean I only know a certain amount.’

‘Here’s something else you might not know. Margaret McKinley, Dr McKinley’s daughter and heir, has enlisted the services of Bachelor Private Enquiry Incorporated to investigate her father’s death. I’m an associate of Bachelor’s.’

There was a pause before Holland said, ‘No, I didn’t know that.’

So Greenacre was only giving out selective information.

That was good. I’d talked the thing over with Hank and Megan in what was left of the hour after my brief visit to the pub. We’d agreed it was unlikely that the actual kidnappers and probable torturers of Henry McKinley would make the approach Holland had: unlikely, but not impossible. Also, McKinley, on the DVD, said Global Resources had tried a soft approach-a bribe. Didn’t acquit them of responsibility, but it suggested they might be the ones to deal with. We had that one card to play-the bribe allegation. The trick would be to use it to find out more. Holland might know more about the focus of McKinley’s work than we did.

It was a juggling act and a chess game. We needed to talk to Dr O’Neil before we talked to Holland.

‘I’ll call Ms McKinley in the States,’ I said to Holland, ‘and get back to you if you give me your number. I gather it’s urgent?’

‘Fairly urgent. I’ll expect your call when?’

‘Within forty-eight hours.’

He gave me the number and cut the call.

We grouped in Hank’s office.

‘What does he sound like?’ Megan asked.

‘Smooth. What have you found out about the company?’

‘It’s biggish. International. Mining interests mostly, particularly in South Africa. Your Mr Holland is the CEO of the Australian division rather than the whole show.’

‘That’s interesting,’ Hank said. ‘Always good to deal with someone who’s answerable to someone else. Can give you an edge.’