Smoking Gun (Adam Cartwright Trilogy Book 1)

by Dennis Debney

  Happily, I was right. The second video did prove to be the clincher after all. At the conclusion of the video Ryan, who had been silent throughout, said quietly. “Okay. I’m convinced. I agree that they deserve places in a witness protection program. Now tell me about your ideas of steps to avoid having ghosts on the payroll and dummy companies being granted approved supplier status. They seem to be the major avenues of fraud on the other construction sites.”

  “I am acquiring a machine that produces plastic card photo IDs and will require everyone working on the site to have them with them at all times. The cost is peanuts. The machine costs less than $2,000 and each ID card around $5. When we take the photos for the card we will also collect a thumb print to include in our employee database.”

  “Good. Now, what about the checking the approved suppliers?”

  “I plan to provide the Commission with our approved supplier list and ask the Commission to check them out. They may be able to identify some dodgy characters amongst them. I am also having the list gone through with a fine tooth comb to verify that each company on the list actually does legitimate business with us. We have already identified several unsuitable suppliers from the information provided by the two whistleblowers.”

  “Good. Excellent.” Smiling for the first time that day he added. “Well, I am in favour of you presenting the redacted documents to the Commission. Plus, I will attend that meeting with you and take part in the discussions.”

  I was satisfied. Ewan Ryan had taken ownership of the visit to the Commission. It was the outcome that I had hoped for. He hadn’t even insisted on knowing who the whistleblowers were. Mission accomplished.

  ***

  The noise of the traffic as we walked along St Paul’s Terrace towards the Commission’s offices made any attempt at conversation futile. But we didn’t need any last minute strategy discussion. It had been agreed that I wouldn’t name the whistleblowers. Apart from that I would reveal all I knew.

  We did not have to wait long. I had been expected. We were met at the reception area on the ground floor and led to a conference room ten levels above. My first thought when I entered the conference room was that it must have been a slow day at the Commission. Even though we were a few minutes early, there were six people seated at the conference table waiting for us. A smart looking woman sitting at the end of the table arose as we entered the room and walked towards us. Taking the initiative I said, “My name is Adam Cartwright, I’m the person who rang the Commission and made this appointment…”

  The woman extended her hand and said, “Thank you for coming here today. My name is Toni Swan. I am the chief investigator and have been tasked to handle your case.”

  After we shook hands I gestured deferentially towards Ewan Ryan and said, “I would like to introduce Ewan Ryan, CEO of Gibson Construction.”

  Toni Swan did a double take when I mentioned Ewan Ryan’s name. “Mister Ryan. I’m pleased to meet you. I think that we have an appointment with you next week sometime. Haven’t we?”

  Ewan Ryan was at his charming best. “Yes. But that’s next week. Today is different. This is Mister Cartwright’s show. He is Construction Manager for the Red Rock Mine Project. I think that you’ll find what he has to say very interesting.”

  By then the others, who had been seated along one side of the table, were standing so Ewan Ryan and I walked around shaking hands and exchanging business cards. Eventually we were all seated again. Ryan and I sitting on one side of the table facing the others.

  Before she formally commenced the meeting Toni Swan said, “Mister Cartwright, as you requested, we have arranged for you to use the large wall-mounted screen to present your information.” As she spoke a young man who had entered the room walked across and connected my laptop to a loose cable running across the floor to the screen. As he was doing that I flicked through the business cards that I’d been given. As well as being Chief investigator, Toni Swan was a lawyer. The others comprised three more lawyers, an accountant and a consultant psychologist.

  A few minutes later Toni Swan started the meeting by asking, “Mister Cartwright, please proceed. But first I wish to note for the record that you don’t have any legal support with you here today.”

  I smiled wryly. “No. We don’t have any legal support. I think that there’s more than enough lawyers here today already. I do not want to get caught up in legal debate and discussions about irrelevant points of law. Suffice it to say, I am familiar with the witness protection legislation and am here today to present a case for two whistleblowers to be granted protection as provided for in the Witness Protection Act. As I go through my presentation I will present redacted documents. The identities of the two whistleblowers will not be disclosed. Subject to a satisfactory response from the Commission they will surrender themselves, with their confessions and the other documents that I will show to you today. They are employees of Gibson Construction and were coerced by the Comancheros to carry out wrongful acts against their will.”

  Toni Swan responded, If she was angry because I had made disparaging remarks about lawyers, and had referred to the number of people at the meeting, she did not show it. But she was determined to have her rebuttal. “Fine. But before we start, I wish to say that the reason that so many of us are here today is that your name rang a bell when the appointment was made. Six months ago we had an undercover officer working with a group of welders with connections to the Comancheros. Yes, the same group that you threw off the Mount Godwin mine expansion project. We had hoped to get evidence of corruption but your actions prevented our plan coming to fruition. It’s not just idle curiosity that we are all here. But the officer’s report made intriguing reading and we wanted to meet you. Also, what you have to say today might well be connected to other cases that we are investigating.”

  I smiled an acknowledgement of her comments and commenced my presentation. Forty five minutes later I completed displaying and explaining the various documents, and paused for questions. They had all paid rapt attention to the screen and listened attentively to my explanations. There was a prolonged silence as the others waited for a lead from Toni Swan. Eventually she spoke. “Thank you. Rarely have I seen such an interesting presentation. We will have a few questions to ask before any decision is made, but your request will be seriously considered with some urgency. So, what else do you have for us?”

  “I have two videos. One is about thirty minutes and shows the interrogation and confessions by the whistleblowers. The second is longer but the highlights last about thirty or so minutes. The second video shows the whistleblowers discussing the threats by the Comancheros and their fear of retribution. It is important to note that they were not aware that they were being recorded.”

  It was at that point that trays of refreshments arrived. I looked at my watch, three o’clock. It was afternoon tea in the public service and it was bang on time.

  When I had finished showing the videos, I again checked my watch. It was just after four fifteen. It was clear that everyone there had been affected by the second video in particular. It had been an unpleasant experience watching two basically fine people in serious trouble, not of their own choosing, agonising over what to do and not knowing that they were being recorded. They had given in to threats in the past but were now determined to do the right thing regardless of the cost to themselves. Their courage was admirable. It was easy to have real sympathy for them.

  Gesturing at the now blank screen I said, “Well. That is the case for the granting of witness protection. They have a lot to bring to the table. I’ll be surprised if you can’t build a case or two on their evidence. I think that justice will be best served by them being treated leniently. After all none of us really know if we would have done any better if we had been in their situation.”

  One of the lawyers, a dark haired woman in her late twenties, had a question. “What documentation are you handing over to us?”

  “A copy of all the redacted documents plus a copy of ea
ch of the two videos.”

  Not to be outdone in demonstrating his interest in the case, and that he had been paying attention, a young man, also a lawyer, asked, “You mentioned in passing that you were going to introduce some measures to prevent future fraudulent activity on site. What are those measures?”

  “I have committed to the issue of plastic photo ID cards to all workers and track their movements onto, and from, the construction site. Those cards will also involve the recording of thumbprints onto our contractor and employee database.”

  Ewan Ryan spoke for the first time. “Tell them about the list of approved suppliers.”

  “Yes, thanks. I almost forgot. I will also give the Commission the names of the companies on our list of approved suppliers. Several of them are mentioned by the whistleblowers as being involved in corrupt practices. We’d like the Commission to check the bona fides of all companies on the list and advise if there is any issue that we should be aware of. We will also re-examine these companies to verify their status.”

  I then removed a small thumb drive from my briefcase and passed it to Toni Swan. “The redacted documents and video files are on this data stick.”

  Toni Swan reached out and accepted the thumb drive and said, “Mister Cartwright. Mister Ryan. Thank you for coming in today but before you leave I would like to talk to you both for a few minutes.” When we both nodded she turned to the others. “Peter, Margaret, I’d like you to stay for a few minutes. The rest of you are excused. We will have a team talk about this case tomorrow.”

  A few minutes later there were just five of us remaining in the conference room. As it turned out, Peter Williams and Margaret Smith were the two lawyers that had asked the questions earlier. I smiled inwardly. The way to get ahead in the public service was to make sure that you stood out somehow. Asking questions at meetings, provided that the questions were relevant, was the obvious way.

  Toni Swan looked at me for a couple of moments thoughtfully before speaking. “Mister Cartwright. The reason that your name was instantly recognised here was that we have been wondering whether we should give you a warning to be wary of the Comancheros bikie gang. Last week our undercover officer reported hearing a piece of gossip that an Adam Cartwright had become a threat and should be dealt with.”

  I stopped closing my briefcase and stared at her. Good grief. It might be the Comancheros who had tried to kill me. For a full minute I sat there silently considering whether I should mention the attempted drowning or not. I then mimicked taking a coin out of my pocket, flipping it in the air, catching it and placing it on the back of my left hand. After glancing down at the imaginary coin for a moment I looked up at Toni Swan and said, “Tails! Okay, I’ll tell you after all. There was an attempt on my life two weeks ago. I have no idea who the assailants were and I have not reported the attack to the police.”

  The four of them looked aghast. Finally Toni Swan spoke. “Tell us what happened and why you didn’t report it to the police.”

  “All right, well the main reason for not reporting the incident to the police is that I did not want to be suspected of being either paranoid or an attention-seeker. Also the fact is that I have no evidence that the incident even occurred much less that the Comancheros were responsible.” Having made those points clear I went on to relate the incident. First I described being thrown overboard and having to swim for my life. I could not discern whether or not it sounded credible to them. It even sounded highly improbable to me that I could have survived such an event.

  At the conclusion I said, “If you give me back that data stick I will add my description of the incident, just in case it ends up being connected with the Red Rock matter. I compiled this as an incident report in case I later decide to report it to the police.”

  She nodded and handed the thumb drive back to me. No one spoke as I copied the additional file onto the thumb drive and handed it back. Without giving any explanation I also extracted a blank thumb drive from my briefcase, copied the same files onto it, and handed it to Ewan Ryan. He accepted it without any change in expression or comment.

  Eventually Toni Swan spoke, using my Christian name for the first time. “Adam, would you be able to attend the meeting here at the Commission with Mister Ryan next Tuesday?”

  I glanced at Ewan Ryan. When I saw him nod I looked back at Toni Swan and said, “Yes. Of course. I’d be happy to.”

  “Good. We can probably tell you then what we propose to do regarding your whistleblowers. In the meantime, you can tell them that I’m making no promises, but the Commission will look at their situation with compassion.”

  ***

  Travelling down in the lift Ewan Ryan shook his head at me and said, “There’s certainly not a dull moment with you, is there?”

  I grinned and replied, “Believe me, I’d much prefer a dull, boring life.”

  “So you are returning to Cairns tonight?”

  “Yes. On the six thirty flight.”

  “Well take care. That Comancheros warning should be taken seriously. I’ll be in touch tomorrow about next Tuesday and what else needs to be done. I assume that you are happy to keep the two whistleblowers on until we know how this is going to work out?”

  “Sure.”

  Later while waiting at the airport for my flight to Cairns, I rang Leonie Wran to give her a progress report.

  She would go and track down Lex Robertson and Heino Pops to give them the news. So far things were on track. And perhaps I was a little closer to finding out who was responsible for the attacks on me.

  ***

  Friday October 23

  Red Rock Project Site

  I had only been off the construction site for a day but things had backed up noticeably. There was a stack of notes on my desk when I arrived back in my office the following day. All were requesting my immediate attention. There was nothing really serious, but I had a number of small fires to put out before I could even start thinking about the next step in the whistleblower saga.

  I had arrived back onboard ‘Irish Mist’ in the Cairns Marina late last night and gone straight to bed. Or, more strictly speaking, straight to my quarter berth and slept soundly. I had been on the lookout for trouble in the dark as I approached my marina berth as the warning about the Comancheros had not gone entirely unheeded. Nevertheless I had no trouble getting to sleep once I was buttoned up down below.

  Now that the Red Rock project had reached the equipment installation phase my supervisory force had been strengthened with more specialist technical inspectors. Most were contractors, but two were Gibson Construction employees who were usually based in Brisbane. There were now electrical engineers, mechanical engineers, instrument technicians and electronic engineers reporting to me. The range and complexity of activity onsite more than justified their participation but each felt a need to talk to me at least once a day. Consequently I had recently introduced a new mealtime protocol. I would now eat my evening meals at a table with the engineering and technical inspectors, and we would talk work. The after dinner talk sometimes dragged on to the extent that we overstayed our welcome at the dining room and were asked to leave.

  The only rule was that if anyone had been relaxing with a beer or two at the bar beforehand, then they should eat at another table. I was not inclined to let anyone waste my time with meaningless beer-inspired rhetoric. Apart from actual work-related matters requiring decisions to be made on the construction site, there was a new issue looming on the horizon. It was the Union’s reaction to my recent edict that all workers on the construction site must have a Red Rock Project ID card with them at all times. As expected the Construction Workers Union had objected strenuously.

  Just two days after I had announced the ID card a Union activist was walking around the construction site and haranguing everyone about the evils of the proposed ID card. He had avoided speaking to me but he was already proposing a strike if the ID card was introduced. His name was Toby Jones. Before I met him he had been described to me as bein
g ugly, obese, self-important and a pretentious demagogue. When I met him I realised that he was every bit as unpleasant as the description I had been given. I had found him easy to dislike, even before I heard what he had to say.

  In order to bring the issue to a conclusion before it got out of hand I called for a general stop-work meeting to be held in the dining room at eleven fifteen today. Work would halt at eleven o’clock and resume at one o’clock after lunch. All workers on site were invited to attend. Toby Jones was invited to address the gathering after me if he wished. He accepted the invitation with alacrity.

  When I arrived at the dining room at ten past eleven it was packed. All the tables were occupied and the walls lined two deep. Jack Gilmore told me later that there were over four hundred attending the meeting. He had invited his mine contract workers to attend also as the mine owners were also strongly in favour of the ID card proposal.

  A large, solid table had been cleared and placed at the front for me and Toby Jones to use as a dais. A chair had been placed with its back against the table as a step to mount the dais. There was no need for a P.A. system. As soon as I arrived I stepped up onto the chair and then onto the table and turned to face the gathering. Toby Jones had been standing by the table apparently awaiting my arrival. I did not acknowledge him as I brushed past.

  The buzz of the crowd subsided almost immediately when I held up my hands for silence. “I’m probably known to most of you. My name is Adam Cartwright. I’m employed by Gibson Construction to manage construction of the Red Rock Project...” I was forced to pause as the overwhelmingly friendly crowd responded with cheers and calls of “Good on you Adam.” I grinned and held my hands up again for silence before continuing. “Thank you. Well, I am going to speak to you about the proposal, my proposal in fact, to introduce photo ID cards for all workers on the construction site. But before I do I’d like to welcome Mister Toby Jones. Many of you know him already. He is the guy who has been going around the site telling you that the sky will fall in, and your chooks stop laying, if photo ID cards are made compulsory…” Again I was interrupted, this time with laughter. I think that everyone present now realised just how I was going to play this confrontation with the Union organiser. I held up my hands again. “But I am pre-empting what Mister Jones has to say.” Looking down at Toby Jones standing next to the table cum dais I said, “Toby, would you please come up and join me?”