Cassidy

by Morris West

  ‘I’d just like to hear that he trusted me.’

  ‘I’d like to hear it, too – just for the record.’ He patted an errant hair into place. ‘But it wouldn’t mean very much, would it? After all, you’re not sure you can trust yourself… Come on, little brother! Why be a supergrass if you can’t enjoy the goodies you get from the coppers!’

  Be it marked to his credit, the Commissioner lunched us well, and relaxed enough to let us enjoy it. He also answered two questions I had forgotten to put to him earlier.

  ‘…Micky Gorman? You’ve probably forgotten – or it may have happened after you left – that he was handling the trust funds for the partnership. He felt Cassidy was sailing too close to the wind with certain investments. There were, and still are, strict guidelines. So he complained to Charlie. Charlie didn’t bat an eyelid. He said, in effect, “Good! Let’s have an audit and a guidelines check by the Bar Council.” They got it. Charlie came out smelling of roses. Micky Gorman got his knuckles rapped for sloppy record keeping! He never forgave Cassidy and from that day on he bent every effort towards breaking up the partnership and pulling Cassidy down… Gerry Downs? Well, he’s another kettle of fish altogether. He’s rich as Croesus. He runs a media empire. He loves to gamble. If you’re a gambler, on cards or horses or the tables, you rub shoulders with big-time crooks. That lays you open to guilt by association, but it doesn’t make you a criminal. Gerry’s slept with a lot of women, but that doesn’t make him a criminal either – though it has put some strain on his health! I’ve checked through a lot of information about him. He’s like a pointer, he tells you when there’s hot money around. But at the end of the day all I can prove is that he’s a larrikin who likes living in the fast lane… As to what was the quarrel between him and Cassidy, that’s a confused issue. They were at odds over newspaper lotteries – and I understand that was settled at a very high figure in Cassidy’s favour. There were other things, too. For a while, they were both competing for the same woman. Even as I say it, I wonder if Gerry shows up in any of your porno photographs?’

  ‘No way!’ said Arthur Rebus emphatically. ‘That’s not Gerry’s style. He likes the best of everything and he demands exclusive possession! I even doubt there’s too much malice in his campaign to blacken Cassidy’s memory. He wants Labor out and the Liberals in. This is one way to make it happen.’

  ‘Don’t let’s make it too simple.’ The Commissioner wiped a fleck of gravy from his lips. ‘Gambling means big money to be laundered. Gambling means loan-sharking and intimidation and occasionally murder. I still watch the players to lead me to the operators, especially now when the triads are moving into Chinatown and the local boys are getting ready for war… Which reminds me, Mr. Gregory…’

  ‘Yes, Commissioner?’

  ‘A word of advice for Thailand. I’ve got staff there working closely with the office of the Narcotics Control Board. I’ve got constant telex links and radio contact. But none of it is too secure, because the Palace insists on access to the communications system. In short, you’ll have friends, but you’ll be very vulnerable. My advice is not to go wandering the town, or accepting social invitations from Miss Rhana. Stay in the hotel compound and do your entertaining in your own suite or, better still, in the public areas.’

  The lunch had mellowed me somewhat, so I challenged him with a laugh.

  ‘You still don’t trust me, eh Commissioner?’

  He responded agreeably enough, but he still wouldn’t yield me an inch.

  ‘It’s not a matter of trust, Mr. Gregory. It’s common sense. You’re valuable to me now. I want to keep you alive as long as I can.’

  And that, as Arthur Rebus aptly remarked, was pure cliché. It proved that the Federal Police Commissioner himself was not safe from the corruption of Gerry Downs’ television serials. It also gave us the first real laugh we had had all day.

  14

  The return flight to Sydney landed at twenty minutes to six. Arthur Rebus and I took a cab back to the city. Rebus wanted half an hour with me at the hotel before he went home. Ever since we had left the Commissioner’s office, he had been preoccupied and taciturn. I was bone-tired, so I didn’t mind the silences. In spite of the abrasions of our day’s discussions, I felt at the end curiously reassured. As from the following day, I should be shadowed day and night by guardian angels and stayed up by the presence of a police expert who would help me to make sense of Cassidy’s documents. I had a pistol licence in my pocket and the name of a reliable gunsmith. At least I was no longer alone, a floating particle in a hostile atmosphere.

  Rebus, however, took a different view. Sitting in my room at the Town House with a large whiskey clamped in his fist, he told me, moodily: ‘…I’m more worried now than I was this morning. You don’t see it, Martin, but I do. These are war-games. You’re important because you’re sitting on Cassidy’s files; but for the rest, you’re an expendable element. The Commissioner will sacrifice you with as little compunction as he would a decoy platoon in a field operation…’

  ‘I can’t blame him for that, Arthur. He made it very clear. My options are still open – most of them, anyway.’

  ‘No, Martin! Listen to me and try to understand. This whole melodrama of rogue unions, rogue cops, rogue politicians, drug runners and their ilk is about one thing – power! If a maritime union controls the waterfront, it controls the trade of the nation. If a building union can hold up the construction of silos, the wheat rots and the rats eat it. So deals have to be made – big deals, legal and illegal: an investigation dropped, a claim settled, a felon given an early release… The real problem of drugs is not the casualties, tragic and all as they are, but the fact that narcotics have become a world currency, a black-market coinage which will buy anything anywhere, whose value is increased by shortage, whose movement is impossible to monitor… Look at the coastline of this continent. How the hell do you patrol it? Impossible. You could land a goddamn army anywhere from Normanton to Derby and the only ones who’d know about it would be the kangaroos!… The Commissioner’s right. You’re valuable to him because you can key him in to a new grid in the underground system. But once he’s in, you’re no longer important to him, because you have no political or executive power. He won’t be indifferent to what happens to you. He’s too moral a man for that; but he won’t give all his blood to keep you alive – and he won’t weep too long at your grave…’ He sipped meditatively at his liquor. ‘I guess what I’m really trying to say is that this, at root, is a moral matter. It involves a moral commitment, which I believe the Commissioner has. He really hates the corruptors and the intimidators. Between him and them it’s war to the knife. All through today he was looking for the same commitment from you. He didn’t get it. Neither did I, for that matter. Maybe we’re both misreading you, but it seems to me you’re still doing a teeter-totter act on the tightrope. Which being said, you’re welcome to spit in my eye…’

  There was a knock at the door – a bell boy with a large manila envelope. I borrowed a two-dollar bill from Rebus, to tip him. The envelope carried the sender’s name: Standish and Waring, Solicitors. Inside was a letter and a sheaf of documents. The letter read:

  Dear Mr. Gregory,

  We act for the Macupan Pharmaceutical Company Ltd. of Manila. We understand that you are the executor of the late Charles Cassidy’s will and that you have taken legal custody of his estate.

  In October last year, Miss Pornsri Rhana, of the Chao Phraya Trading Company, Bangkok, applied to purchase at par one million five hundred thousand one dollar shares of Macupan Pharmaceutical, promising to pay upon issue of the shares.

  A copy of the share application and a photostat of the share certificate is enclosed. Also enclosed is our client’s agreement to accept payment in any country of the world, such payment to be made in a mixture of currencies, a consignment of precious stones of agreed and certified value and a consignment of pharmaceutical products whose value is similarly certified.

  Copies of the cer
tifications are attached. Miss Rhana informs us the currency and other items required for the settlement had been held for her by the late Charles Cassidy and that they would probably now be in your possession as executor. We would point out that the payments do not attract tax or require tax clearance, since they are considerations passing between two foreign entities, using an Australian entity only as the medium of exchange. Neither is there any probate problem, since the items in question are not part of the estate of the late Charles Cassidy.

  May we ask you, therefore, to communicate with us as soon as possible, so that a date and time may be set for the payment of the consideration and the delivery of the share certificate?

  Sincerely yours,

  Gordon Standish

  I flipped through the documents and handed them without comment to Arthur Rebus. He read them slowly, nodding his head like one of those old-fashioned porcelain Buddhas. Finally, he looked up and said, ‘Now that’s what I call real style! No threats. A nice, courtly letter from one legal colleague to another! I wonder what the Commissioner will make of this one.’

  ‘Standish and Waring… The Premier recommended I use them for Cassidy’s probate.’

  ‘You could have done a lot worse. They’re old line, stuffy, desperately slow – and completely reliable.’

  ‘So why would Erhardt Möller use them as his collectors?’

  ‘Precisely for that reason. Given these documents, they wouldn’t think of questioning the instructions of their client. If the client tells them that a kilo of heroin is a pharmaceutical product or a new line of baking powder, they’ll accept it as fact. Why should they do otherwise? They’ll expect a similarly courteous and uncomplicated response from you. If they get it, the matter’s closed. But I’d like to hear first from Miss Pornsri Rhana. Either she’s been set up, or she’s setting you up for Mr. Erhardt Möller, or this is standard pattern for transactions between Cassidy and the boys in Manila.’

  ‘I’d like to hear what the Commissioner advises.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave the lady and the Commissioner to me? I have your power of attorney. No sense to keep a dog and bark yourself. I’ll drop in to see the lady on my way home and phone the Commissioner tonight. In the morning, I’ll call Standish and Waring and let them know I’ll be handling the matter under your power of attorney. We’ll meet at the bank in the morning.’

  I was glad when he left. He could be a diverting character, but he had all sorts of unexpected edges to bruise one’s self-esteem. I needed some balm for my wounded feelings. So, good and faithful husband, I telephoned my wife in Klosters.

  It was Clare who answered the phone. She told me Pat and the children were already out on the slopes. Pat had found this marvellous ski instructor who was bringing them along at an enormous rate.

  ‘…They’re having a wonderful time, Martin. It would do your heart good to see them.’

  ‘I’m delighted. And what about you, Clare? How’s the big romance?’

  ‘Coming along very nicely. He’s kind and considerate. Terribly absentminded, but I can cope with that. He’s working on his book. I’m working on him. It’s a very comfortable situation. How are you holding up, Martin?’

  ‘I’m holding up. Your old man left a tidy estate to the family – and a bloody minefield for me. I’m picking my way through the middle of it now.’

  ‘Pat told me about the Thai mistress and the daughter she bore to Charlie.’

  ‘That’s only the half of it. I’ve spent today in Canberra with the Federal Police. I have to go up to Bangkok in three days’ time. Also, for security reasons, I’m changing hotels. I’m moving tonight to the Melmar Marquis. Write it down – the Melmar Marquis. In Bangkok, I’ll be at the Oriental.’

  ‘I know, dear.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Mr. Melville called last night to say he’d be meeting you there. He kindly offered to carry any letters or messages. Would you like me to have Pat call you when she gets back?’

  ‘What time will that be?’

  ‘It’s normally quite late – three, four in the afternoon. They’re doing the long runs now, stopping at the halfway hut for lunch, then skiing the last leg to be home before dark. But I guess that’ll be the wee, small hours for you.’

  ‘It will indeed. Just give her my love and kiss the kids for me. I’ll call as soon as I’m installed in the Melmar. Lots of love, Clare. And good luck with your scholar. By the way, what’s his name?’

  ‘Leonidas Farkis… and if you say it’s a funny name, I’ll kill you! He’s a Greek-American, a great scholar who…’

  ‘Hey, hey, hey, relax, Clare! This is son-in-law Martin, remember? I’m on your side. Always have been.’

  ‘I know!’ She gave a little, unsteady laugh. ‘It’s just that I’m very, very fond of him and Pat and the children don’t always understand his funny ways… I’m sorry you’re having such a bad time with Charles’ affairs. Do be careful. He could be such a monster; he probably left booby traps everywhere. Try to come home soon. The children miss you terribly and Pat gets very restless without you… Goodbye, my dear!’

  When I put down the receiver I felt a sudden pang of jealousy and resentment. Pat was restless! Pat had found a new ski instructor who kept her out on the slopes until dark. Splendid! This is the day the Lord hath made, Alleluia! Meantime, dutiful husband, I, Martin Gregory the Righteous, had just been licensed to carry a firearm, warned that he was an expendable element in a war-game and that people didn’t trust him because he had lust and greed written all over his face!

  I called the Melmar Marquis and asked to speak to Laura Larsen. This time they found her within thirty seconds. I told her that if she still had room I’d love to come and stay at her place.

  She said, ‘Good! I think it’s wise… and I’ll be glad to have you near anyway. When you arrive, ask for Peters at reception. He’ll take you up to the suite, register you there and explain the house procedures to maintain your privacy and at the same time keep your communications open. I won’t see you tonight, because I’m hostess to a group of travel agents who are very important to us. But I’ll come and have breakfast with you at eight in the morning. How was Canberra?’

  ‘Busy.’

  ‘And your new probate lawyers?’

  ‘I’m impressed. They’re very efficient. I’ll tell you about them when I see you. Ciao.’

  That made me feel a little better and if it added a line or two of lechery to my public face, then too bad. I shaved, showered, put on fresh linen and a fresh summer suit and poured myself a drink to farewell the Town House. I was just beginning to enjoy it when the telephone rang. Mr. Erhardt Möller was on the line from Manila.

  ‘Good evening, Mr. Gregory. You should by now have received a set of documents from our solicitors, Standish and Waring.’

  ‘They arrived, yes.’

  ‘And you will deal with them promptly?’

  ‘I have already begun to do so, Mr. Möller. I handed them immediately to the solicitor I have appointed to deal with the Cassidy estate and asked him to expedite the matter.’

  ‘But as the documents clearly indicate, this has nothing to do with the Cassidy estate.’

  ‘Precisely what I have asked him to verify, Mr. Möller. Once that is done, completion can take place immediately.’

  ‘I hope you understand that there is a certain pressure.’

  ‘I do indeed, Mr. Möller. I, too, am under pressure to divest myself of Cassidy’s affairs and get home. So there are no problems on our side, as I am sure there are none on yours. Standish and Waring are very reputable people. One relies on their documents.’

  ‘Of course. May I have the name of the man who is acting for you?’

  ‘Certainly. His name is Arthur Rebus, spelt REBUS… That’s right, a picture puzzle. How clever of you! Yes, he is very well known and highly respected in the profession. His firm is called Fitch, Rebus and Landsberg. I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job… Yes, of course, it would
be entirely proper for you to communicate with him directly. I’ll give you his address and office telephone number… My pleasure, Mr. Möller.’

  When I put the phone down I didn’t feel half as chirpy as I sounded. These people were hardline professionals. Their timing was impeccable, their urbanity more menacing than any overt violence. I found myself hoping that the Commissioner would let the payment go through so that I could get at least this bunch of villains off my back. Then, as an additional precaution, I called Pornsri Rhana’s number. She was at home. Arthur Rebus was with her. I asked to speak with him. When I told him of the call from Möller, he lapsed into double-talk. I found he was very good at it.

  ‘…Yes, that’s an entirely expected development. My present reading is that we are faced with option three – standard offshore procedure. It also answers my question about the materials in the coffer deposit. It was a temporary measure, complicated by the premature exit of the depositor.’

  ‘Would the Commissioner let this deal go through?’

  ‘I think he might, especially if it worked like a tracer dye in a water system.’

  ‘I take your meaning. Will you check it out with him?’

  ‘Naturally. That’s what you pay me for.’

  ‘How’s the lady?’

  ‘Happy, I think. Why don’t I let her tell you herself?’

  A moment later, Pornsri herself came on. She was bubbling with satisfaction.

  ‘I have to thank you, Martin. Your Mr. Rebus is most helpful. The papers are in order, of course. I can explain the whole background to you in Bangkok. Thank you again, my dear.’

  And that, it seemed, was that. It was time to move on. I called for a bell-boy to pick up my bags, walked out of the room and headed for the elevator.

  The Melmar Marquis wrapped itself around me like a security blanket. Mr. Peters from reception conducted me to my suite, a pair of magnificent chambers with an eastward view of the harbour. He filled in my card with as much care as if he were inscribing the details in the Book of Kells. He explained the system by which all calls were diverted through a monitor before being put through to me, how visitors were dealt with at reception and packages for special guests screened by the bell-captain. Then he presented Mr. Paul, butler to V.I.P.’s like me. Mr. Paul or his assistant would be at call day or night. His minions delivered champagne, fruit in a silver epergne, a silver bucket of ice, a silver dish of chocolates and a leather-bound menu card embossed in silver. Mr. Andrew, the night valet, appeared to ask if I needed any suits pressed or shoes cleaned. In short, I was cosseted like a chief of chiefs; and when I wondered whether the room was bugged or the bed scanned by a hidden camera, it was almost as if I were entertaining obscene thoughts. For a final touch, there was a bracket of the latest bestsellers on the bedside table, so I read myself to sleep and woke to a fine, clear summer morning with the sunlight dancing on the wake of the ferries criss-crossing the harbour.