Cyanide Games: A Peter Tanner Thriller

by Richard Beasley

  Halfway around the floor was a large kitchen. He listened for human-made sound, heard none, and opened the double-door fridge. On the left side was almost a whole tray of Coke. He took one and opened it. If he came upon someone, he’d look more like he belonged with a drink in his hand.

  He continued around the floor to the east side. The offices now had better views. He wondered how anyone got any work done. He reached the northern end of the floor. He had the place to himself.

  He walked back and found the file storage system. He wound open the first cabinet and looked in its shelves. He’d been told that a computer code would be on the spine or front of each folder for the Citadel–Bageeyn River project. In the shelves of the second cabinet he saw what looked to be more than fifty folders labelled CIT–BRP on the spine, followed by some numbers. He found a folder with some correspondence and documents from January the previous year, and started rifling through it. It didn’t take him long to find the report Tanner wanted – its author was Gabriella Campbell of GreenDay Environmental Consultants Pty Ltd.

  There were two copies, one of which had handwritten notes on it. There were attendance notes on BBK pads in which he could see the words ‘Campbell’ or ‘hydro report’. He opened his briefcase took out the portable scanner, and set to work. His time limit was one and a half hours.

  At one am he phoned Tanner, who answered after one ring.

  ‘All okay?’

  ‘Nice views,’ Cable said softly.

  ‘You find anything?’

  ‘Too much. Two copies of this Campbell report. One has notes on it. What looks like records of phone calls with her, maybe meetings. I could be here another five hours doing this.’

  ‘What about Warren? Anything on Tovosevu?’

  ‘I can’t find any files for that.’

  ‘That’s just as important, Tom.’

  ‘That’s fine, Pete, but I can’t make this thing scan any faster. How long do you want me to stay?’

  ‘No sign of life?’ Nadine Bellouard had told Tanner that security did random sweeps of floors late at night. ‘What would it look like if a security guard turned up now?’

  ‘They’d find me on my knees next to some storage cabinets, scanning documents and wearing a security pass with a face on it that is much prettier than mine.’

  Tanner thought for a moment and sighed. ‘Spend ten more minutes looking for anything to do with Tovosevu.’

  ‘There’s nothing marked Tovosevu or with letters like that. There’s CIT–RGB, but I haven’t looked in those.’

  ‘Red Gum Basin. That’ll be the CSG mine they want up there. Look for anything to do with –’

  ‘Pete?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘There are about a hundred folders marked that. You need to give me a priority.’

  Tanner could ask him to stay longer, but that increased the risk. ‘Look for Tovosevu,’ Tanner said. ‘Then leave in ten minutes.’

  ‘I’ll spend another hour, then go.’

  ‘Another hour is pushing it, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is for getting caught by one of the lawyers here if they walk in, but probably not by security.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘This building uses Barnwell Security. If I get caught by one of their guards we’ll probably be able to bribe my way out of it. Either the guard or up the chain of command. It will cost you a bit, that’s all.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Most of the security companies that look after the city office buildings are run by crooks who employ crooks, Pete. I know that for a fact. I used to come to arrangements with them quite often in another life.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Sometime you’re very naive for a criminal lawyer, you know that?’

  ‘I’ll see you here at nine tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ll bring a coffee.’

  ‘Bring three.’

  ‘Three?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  There was a pause. ‘Good for you.’

  • • •

  Cable arrived at Tanner’s house on Saturday morning carrying a tray with three cappuccinos and a hot chocolate in one hand, and a briefcase in the other.

  Lisa let him in, and when he walked into the open-plan kitchen, Tanner noticed a look on his face somewhere between weariness and suspicion. The circle of trust had been extended, and he had not been informed.

  Cable put the tray down on the kitchen island, and picked up the hot chocolate. ‘I got this for Dan.’

  ‘Still in bed,’ Tanner said. ‘You want to take it to him?’

  ‘I don’t want to wake him,’ Cable said.

  ‘He’s got cricket at ten thirty,’ Tanner said. ‘Mightn’t be a bad idea if you did.’

  Cable and Tanner looked at each other.

  ‘I’ll take it,’ Lisa said, grabbing the hot chocolate and leaving the room.

  Cable watched her leave, then turned back to Tanner and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘You can trust her,’ Tanner said.

  ‘Does she know where I was last night?’

  Tanner nodded. ‘She’s the lawyer who briefed me on this gold mine case. We’re both trying to find Gaby Campbell.’

  ‘What’s with the arm?’

  ‘A political statement. You can still trust her.’

  ‘Talking about me?’ Lisa said, entering the room.

  ‘Dan awake?’ Tanner asked.

  ‘He’s breathing.’

  Tanner nodded, walked over to the bench to grab his coffee, then looked at his watch. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’

  They sat on the L-shaped lounge, and Cable retrieved a thick pile of documents from his bag and dropped it on the coffee table.

  ‘You’re a fast scanner,’ Lisa said.

  Cable shrugged. ‘It’s what I did before I took up break and enters. I got nothing on that Tovosevu thing – I couldn’t find anything with that name. I did get this, though,’ he said, pointing to the top of the pile where two drafts of Gabriella Campbell’s report sat. It was titled Water Impacts on Bageeyn River and Local Aquifers from the Bageeyn River Project. One of the copies had notes scribbled on it.

  ‘That’s Joe’s handwriting,’ Tanner said. ‘I borrowed his lecture notes for every class we had together.’

  After the reports, Cable had put all the other documents in chronological order.

  ‘Do you want to divide this up?’ Lisa asked.

  Tanner shook his head. ‘I know Joe’s hand. I’ll make a record of his notes.’

  ‘I’d start with this,’ she said, handing him a draft of Campbell’s report that she’d picked up. She pointed to some handwriting on the top right corner of the front page. ‘What’s this word?’

  ‘“False”,’ he said. ‘The note says, “Tonnage of ore required – wrong/false? = water needed = wrong/false. Aquifer drawdown – greater – years ++ rainfall – ? Recycling/evaporation rate – false/wrong; efficiency – wrong/false.”’

  He looked at her and raised his eyebrows, then started flicking over the pages of the report.

  Lisa pointed to a page that at the top had ‘T/A GC 22/2’ in handwriting. ‘Telephone attendance on Gabriella Campbell,’ she said. ‘I guess on 22 February last year.’ Tanner nodded. ‘I can’t show this report to our expert, can I?’ she then said.

  Tanner shrugged. ‘You can – but if it goes to court, you’d both have to explain to a judge how he got it.’

  ‘So how do we use this?’

  ‘Let’s find out what it means, first.’

  ‘Some of these notes look like hieroglyphics,’ she said.

  ‘Joe’s shorthand.’

  ‘Can you decipher it?’

  ‘Not the Chinese symbols.’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re kidding?’

  Tanner shook his head and half-smiled. ‘I told him to cut it out all the time in law school. They’re not just Chinese symbols. They’re hybrids of them and his own system. They make sense to Joe, not to every Mandarin speaker.’
r />   ‘How will we work it out?’

  He ran his hand through his hair as he thought. ‘Asking Joe would be the obvious thing.’

  ‘Assuming we can’t?’

  ‘That leaves us Gaby Campbell.’

  ‘And the plan there is what?’

  He looked down at the thick pile of papers on the table. ‘Let me work out what I can from reading through this first.’

  ‘Can I do anything in the meantime?’

  Tanner walked to his kitchen table, where he’d put his satchel. He opened the bag, took out some papers, and went back to the couch. He handed her a single sheet of paper. ‘It’s a to-do list,’ he said.

  She looked at the typed notes and narrowed her eyes. ‘“Citadel–North Shanxi: market information”,’ she read. ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘Something I should’ve already done,’ he said. ‘I want you to find every statement Citadel and North Shanxi have made to the market about the Bageeyn River gold mine. Do the same for the coal and CSG projects up north, and in the Hunter. If there’s time, move on to other proposed mines in any other countries. Look for any prospectuses they may have put out to raise capital, all that kind of thing. Focus on the gold mine first.’

  ‘Is that all?’ she asked.

  ‘I want a schedule of their boards of directors, major shareholders, and a list of who’s who in management. Do the same for a company called XinCoal.’

  ‘Is this our case, or is this for Joe? I don’t mind, but –’

  ‘It’s both, Lisa.’

  ‘There goes the weekend.’

  ‘It’ll take you longer than that.’

  ‘You want me to leave so I can get on with this?’

  He smiled. ‘I’ve got this pile to read. I’ll call when I’m done.’

  She put out her hand to Cable. ‘Nice to meet you, Tom.’

  He stood and took her hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  When he heard the front door close, Cable asked, ‘Do you like her?’

  Tanner was at the kitchen sink, putting the coffee cups in the bin. ‘Sure,’ he said.

  ‘Is it serious?’

  Tanner shrugged. ‘We’re already committing crimes together,’ he said. ‘Can we talk about the witnesses you found?’

  Cable reached into a pocket of the jacket he’d hung over the end of the couch, and took out his notebook. ‘I’ve got a witness from your guy’s club, and I’ve got Richter’s ex-wife’s best friend.’

  ‘Late wife.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She dead. Let’s talk about the witness from the club first.’

  ‘The police interviewed the members of the club that were there that night. I looked over the statements. Some members brought guests, but not all of them were followed up. Anyway, one guy had in his statement the names of the people he took in as guests. That’s how I spoke to . . . Greg McPherson is his name. He said a hostess was sitting on Matheson’s lap most of the time he was there. A blonde.’

  ‘He was sitting near them?’

  ‘Not far.’

  ‘Could he hear any conversation?’

  ‘No,’ Cable said. ‘When I spoke to him, though, and said I was acting for Matheson, he told me something I thought might interest you.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘He goes to the Gents. He’s in there taking a piss, and Richter walks in. McPherson had read about the wife’s funeral only two days before. Offered his condolences. Something like “sorry about your wife,” that kind of thing.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he nearly has his head shoved in the urinal.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Richter got aggressive, and then threatened to kick the guy out.’

  ‘Had this guy been drinking?’

  ‘What do you think? He started at lunch.’

  ‘How did he sound? Did you speak on the phone or meet him?’

  ‘He agreed to have coffee near his work. He seemed okay.’

  ‘Will he see me?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Tee it up.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And Nikki’s best friend?’

  Cable nodded. ‘I’ll get to her. You told me to try and find Richter’s old girlfriend? The one he allegedly assaulted? I spoke to the list of Matheson’s friends you gave me. Anyway, someone knew someone, who knew someone – I ended up with a name and a number.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘No go. Felicity Cairns was her married name. She was Felicity Horton when she got clocked by Richter.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She’s dead.’

  Tanner looked at him blankly for a few moments. ‘She’d only be around thirty-five. What happened?’

  ‘She – she died of natural causes.’

  Tanner glared at Cable for a long moment. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  Cable looked uncomfortable. ‘She died of cancer,’ he said, glancing quickly at Tanner, then away. ‘About three years ago.’

  Tanner nodded slowly. ‘You can say the word cancer around me, Tom,’ he said. ‘Karen’s not the first person –’

  ‘Sure,’ Cable said quickly. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t like to say it.’

  Tanner tried to collect his thoughts. ‘The other woman,’ he said. ‘Nikki’s girlfriend. She still okay?’

  ‘Amanda Weatherill is her name – she’s going to be okay for you.’

  ‘Will she – ?’

  ‘She’s happy to talk. Said she’d come in any time after work for a conference.’

  Tanner nodded. ‘Thanks for all this, Tom.’

  ‘I’m free to leave?’

  Tanner nodded. ‘Can you pick that kid up and lift him out of bed before you go?’

  • • •

  Joe Cheung had spoken to Gabriella Campbell on several occasions after she’d presented her draft report for the Bageeyn River Environmental Assessment, and met with her twice.

  His scribbled notes weren’t entirely legible, but some names were easier to decipher than words. The same names from the bill printout kept cropping up on attendance notes for meetings and phone calls: Anthony Kerr, the deputy general-counsel of Citadel Australia, and Robert Spry, the global GC based in New York. There were several references to someone called Tom Hsu. An internet search revealed him to be North Shanxi’s senior in-house lawyer, based in Hong Kong.

  As he read, Tanner made notes of the date and content of every document that appeared even marginally relevant.

  Good trial lawyers don’t start with the law.

  They start – and they finish – with the facts.

  33

  When Greg McPherson was shown into his room by Charles Porter, Tanner was surprised by his age. McPherson was late fifties, had grey hair, balding at the front, and a portly shape. He was in a suit that was a size too large and a size too small, depending on where you looked.

  Although Matheson’s trial wasn’t for several months yet, Tanner had arranged for the defence team to set aside the day to meet witnesses. He liked to get them signed up to statements early, rather than leaving things to chance.

  McPherson was a mortgage specialist, and a young client he’d arranged a refinance package of loans for had taken him to lunch that day to thank him. That evening, when they were still drinking, the client met up with a friend who was a member of Pantheon, and McPherson was invited along.

  ‘I pushed the average age up a bit,’ McPherson said. ‘My daughters are older than the hostesses there.’

  McPherson explained that he’d seen John Richter walk in just as he and his group were having their first drink. ‘I recognised him,’ he said. ‘I was surprised to see him there, given the funeral earlier that week.’

  ‘Rich men traditionally celebrate the death of their first wives,’ Tanner said. He asked McPherson about what happened in the men’s bathroom. Richter was at a handbasin when he walked in, McPherson explained.

  ‘I went to the urinal. Then I said what I did about his wife.’

 
‘Which was?’

  ‘Just “sorry about your wife”.’

  ‘And his reaction?’

  McPherson shook his head, and his forehead creased. ‘When I turned my head he was glaring at me – like an angry stare.’

  ‘Did you say something else?’

  ‘I wondered if he’d misheard me. I was going to repeat myself, but he spoke.’

  ‘And he said?’

  ‘“What’s it to you?” Or something like that.’

  ‘You responded?’

  ‘No. I was confused. He walked right up to me then.’

  ‘Were you scared?’

  McPherson nodded. ‘He looked like he was going to punch me.’

  ‘How close did he come?’

  ‘Right in my face, almost forcing me backwards.’

  ‘Pushing you?’

  ‘He was leaning over me, looking down.’

  ‘Okay. You spoke next, or him?’

  ‘He told me to shut the fuck up, and asked if I was a member. I said no. Then he said that if I even looked at him again, he’d have me and the people I was with thrown out.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I left. I didn’t even wash my hands.’

  ‘Did you tell your friends about what had happened?’ Jane Ross asked.

  McPherson shook his head.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I was their guest. I didn’t want to cause a scene.’

  ‘How much had you had to drink?’

  McPherson shrugged. ‘Quite a lot,’ he said, smiling weakly.

  ‘That means different things to different people.’

  ‘A beer and two bottles of wine at lunch. A few beers after, then two scotches at the club.’

  ‘Did you feel drunk?’

  ‘I was hungover the next day.’

  Tanner nodded. ‘Your tone of voice when you spoke to Richter – could he have mistaken it for flippancy? Sarcasm maybe?’

  ‘I’ve thought about that,’ he said. ‘I don’t think so. I’m sure I didn’t sound sarcastic.’

  Tanner looked at Ross and Porter. ‘Anything else?’

  They shook their heads.