Flood country

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Flood country Page 21

by Robert Maddison

‘Well, for starters. Jack here took those photos of Mr Girodella’s ute and the excavator registered to your company at a site where it is alleged water was being illegally diverted,’ said Mark.

  ‘That can’t be so. There has been some sort of mistake made,’ Robertson responded. Jack shifted uncomfortably on his seat thinking—there’s no mistake here, arsehole.

  ‘Well, that will be investigated further of course, as will the claim that the illegally diverted water ended up on a property owned by Primus Investments, which, as you would know is an affiliate of GrowOz,’ said Mark watching Robertson’s reaction to this statement carefully. He saw a flicker of recognition when Primus was mentioned.

  ‘Again, all I can say is that there has been a mistake—it can happen out here. Property boundaries aren’t always easy to confirm,’ he said, evading the question again.

  Mark eyed him closely, ‘Hmmm, time will tell I suppose.’

  ‘Steve, it might be good if you could get someone to check on the whereabouts of Mr Casperson and Mr Girodella for us now. We need to interview them in relation to the alleged water diversion and also a shooting incident out at Mike Thompson’s place,’ said Luke.

  ‘A shooting incident—first I’ve heard of that,’ said Robertson.

  Jack couldn’t hold back any longer. ‘You lying bastard, Robertson,’ he said, leaping to his feet. ‘You know exactly what’s been going on. I got run off the road by your thugs and nearly killed. Your mates kidnapped my daughter. They tried to burn down Mike’s house and then shot his dog in front of his grandkids. They roughed up Mary O’Regan because she had proof of this rorting going on and now Wellsmore’s missing. You’re Mr Innocent shit doesn’t cut it, mate.’

  Luke stepped between Jack and Robertson who had leapt to his feet ready to defend himself. ‘Jack, I think you’d better wait outside. Leave this to Mark and me,’ he said firmly. Jack, still fuming with anger, turned and left the room reluctantly. He slammed the door after him.

  Luke turned to face Robertson. ‘If you want my advice, come clean now. We’ve got Pat McMahon in custody and about to tell us everything. It’s only a matter of time until this all comes out. Do yourself a favour and tell us the full story now.’

  Robertson sat and considered this before answering, ‘At this time I have nothing further to say in relation to these allegations.’

  Mark and Luke stood up to leave. Luke said, ‘Not such a smart decision, Steve. We’ll be back.’

  Driving back into Dawson, Mark said, ‘It might be my paranoia, but since arriving I’ve had the feeling of being watched.’

  ‘Yeah, me too, and in particular there’s a dirty black Land Rover that I keep seeing. Keep an eye out for it?’ replied Luke.

  A few minutes later Luke took a sudden turn into the airport and Mark smiled, knowing what he was doing. ‘You two get out and go inside and speak to the ground staff about any old thing. I’ll do a lap of the car park and come back to collect you—let’s see if we are going mad, Mark.’

  Luke let them out and then headed for the exit before taking a quick turn to re-enter the car park, illegally against the one-way sign. He edged back toward the front of the car park and there it was—the black Land Rover. Luke noted the number plate and then eased back and exited again and then proceeded back around the loop road to collect Mark and Jack.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict—are we of sound mind or not?’ asked Mark as he buckled his seat belt.

  ‘No padded cells for us just yet. Our friend is there alright and I got his plate. I’ll ring it through for an id shortly. We could confront him but I’d like to know a bit more first,’ said Mark. Jack, sitting quietly in the back, thought—I’d sure like to confront him!

  ‘If you haven’t already, can I suggest you also put out an APB on that ute. I have a pretty strong suspicion they’ll have done a runner,’ said Mark.

  Chapter 80

  Georgia called Vinnie. ‘Hey, cuz, we’ve had this house staked out all day and no-one’s been seen. I went and knocked on a neighbour’s door—pretended to be a friend looking for them. She said they packed up the car and left a few days ago. I reckon that cunning shit has got them hidden away somewhere. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Give it up, G. I figure you’re right—which would explain why the smart-arse journo came back up here,’ cursed Vinnie.

  ‘Why don’t you burn the fucking house down just to teach him a lesson,’ he added.

  ‘Are you serious?’ queried Georgia.

  ‘Why not? This guy is really pissing me off,’ said Vinnie.

  ‘Ok, you’re the one paying. We’ll torch it tonight,’ said Georgia.

  Chapter 81

  Pip was with Jimmy on yet another feral pig shoot and so Mark, Luke, Jack and Sharon drove out to Mike’s to interview Mary. Mark led off, ‘I hope you’re ok after what happened, Mary? And you too Gerry?’

  ‘I’m still a bit shaken and Gerry hasn’t been allowed out of my sight since,’ she said smiling at Gerry and reaching for his hand.

  ‘I need to ask you a few questions about what you managed to copy from Peter Wellsmore’s USB drive, assuming you can remember some of the details,’ Mark coaxed.

  ‘I’ll try but it was all done very quickly and I was scared out of my wits. After what’s happened I wish I’d left it alone.’

  ‘Be assured; you did the right thing, and in a few months’ time you’ll look back on this and know that was the case. Now, can you describe for me precisely what you did, step-by-step on that night. Is it ok if I record this?’

  ‘Thanks, Mark, and yes it’s ok,’ Mary replied.

  She spent the next 15 minutes outlining what happened that night, with Mark occasionally asking questions to clarify exactly what she meant. When she got to the part about copying the files from the USB he interrupted and said, ‘Now, this is very important. How did you copy the files—did you use Windows Explorer to ‘drag and drop’ them onto the CD, did you copy and paste them or did you save them to your PC as an intermediate step?’

  Mary responded immediately. ‘Our system won’t let you ‘drag and drop’ straight onto CD or other USBs for that matter—something about stopping staff using the computers for personal matters, or smutty email attachments I was told. It also means we have a complete electronic paper trail for everything we do,’ she paused in mid sentence, ‘oh my God, what an idiot I am… there will be a copy of what I got from Peter on the system, won’t there,’ she said excitedly.

  Mark smiled, and thought—there’s our ‘smoking gun’, before replying, ‘Unless some IT genius there has done a complete scrub of the server’s hard drives. Yes.’

  ‘No chance. We’ve had dreadful IT support since it was outsourced. Usually takes a couple of weeks to get even little problems fixed. One of those wonderful cost-saving decisions made in Sydney that means we lose a few days each month because of computer downtime,’ said Mary.

  ‘I think I know what our next step has to be. I need to call the assistant commissioner asap.’

  ‘Mary, you’re a legend,’ said Sharon. Jack, sitting quietly and taking it all in, thought to himself—please let it be true; we need this evidence to wipe that smug smile off the GrowOz manager’s face.

  Mark called and spoke to the assistant commissioner. ‘I sent you through an update on Operation Volturnus about an hour ago—have you had time to look at it yet?’ Mark asked.

  ‘Yes, just now. I think given what’s happened re: Mr Wellsmore, his stepdaughter and the local sergeant; plus the shell casing incriminating Mr Casperson we have enough to ramp this up one notch. From what you’ve said in the report it does seem likely the ‘smoking gun’ information we need will be on the server at Water Resources. I’ll arrange the search and seizure warrant and I’m sending one of the IT hot shots to help you dig into their computer system.’

  ‘Fantastic. We’ve had no luck getting either the sergeant or the regional manager of GrowOz out here to roll over as yet. We’ll keep working on them,’ sa
id Mark.

  ‘Let me know if you find anything juicy,’ said Julie, smiling with expectation.

  Chapter 82

  Sammie Nguyen, ICAC’s No. 1 IT hot shot, disembarked at Dawson airport. In his backpack he had a search and seizure warrant for the Department of Water Resources office in Dawson. Depending on what they found, this could then be extended to the full organisation allowing ICAC to check phone records and all email traffic over the previous several years, if necessary.

  No-one seeing Sammie arrive would have guessed what he did for a living. He spent his waking hours unravelling information stored, saved and even deleted from computer systems. He was originally from Vietnam—once labelled one of the ‘boat people’—and had now lived in Australia long enough to be granted citizenship and pick up a strong Aussie accent. He always wore jeans, t-shirts, runners and had unkempt hair.

  There to meet him were Mark, Luke, Jack and Mary; plus Sharon who had tagged along, as she put it—to make sure Mary was protected—God help anyone who made life difficult for Mary, thought Jack. After introductions, they went in convoy to the Water Resources office, despite the clock approaching knock-off time of 5.00 pm.

  Mary; feeling buoyed, and she hoped about to be vindicated by what was happening, led the way. ‘Good afternoon, Barbara,’ she said. ‘We’ll be needing to see Phil.’ Phil Sturgess was the acting regional manager in the absence of Peter Wellsmore.

  Barbara was a little taken aback by the number of people and the unusually cocky attitude of Mary, who was normally very quiet and unobtrusive.

  ‘I’ll see if he’s available,’ said Barbara. ‘Can I tell him what it’s in relation too?’

  ‘Just say it’s a police matter,’ suggested Luke.

  Barbara spoke with hushed tones into her earpiece and then declared, ‘He’ll be right out.’

  A few minutes later a very harassed-looking man came bustling out from behind a door fitted with security locks. Seeing the assembled group he also did a double take before focussing on Luke and Mark who had stepped forward. Introductions were made, with Phil saying a friendly hello to Mary and expressing the hope she was feeling better.

  ‘Can we perhaps go somewhere a little more private, Phil?’ asked Mark.

  ‘Certainly, although can I ask you all to sign the visitors book and Barbara will give you passes—must keep up our secure environment,’ replied Phil; somewhat ironically, thought Jack, given what was about to transpire.

  Once inside, Phil directed them to a meeting room with an oval table, ten chairs and the obligatory whiteboard and overhead-mounted data projector.

  ‘Now, what can I do for you? Does it relate to poor Peter Wellsmore? I just heard the awful news,’ said Phil.

  ‘Yes, very tragic; and in part it does,’ said Mark as he produced the warrant and handed it to Phil. ‘You will be aware of the allegations made by Mike Thompson a few weeks ago in relation to corruption in the water industry in this region?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Phil, examining the paperwork—his eyebrows rising sharply as he did so.

  Mark continued. ‘Well, ICAC—with the assistance of the police—has been investigating those claims and based on evidence obtained there has been a warrant issued for us to seize and search all your relevant files, electronic and otherwise.’

  Phil looked at Mark in total disbelief. Prior to their visit Mary had told them she had complete faith that Phil was not involved in the corruption—he was just too committed to his work and wouldn’t allow himself to get caught up in anything like this—Mary had advised.

  ‘Well, er, of course you’ll have my complete cooperation. I should call my departmental head, Des Drummond, to advise him of course,’ said Phil.

  ‘As you wish. Now, the first thing we need is to ask all your staff to log off the computer system so Sammie here can begin his work. We’ll start with the electronic filing system and emails and then see where that takes us into your paper records, if that’s ok,’ said Mark.

  ‘Yes, we’re not a huge office and it’s almost going home time so it will only take me a few minutes to get everyone off the system. Any idea when they’ll be allowed back on—everything grinds to a halt these days without computers,’ commented Phil.

  ‘That does depend on what I find, of course. I would hope they should be able to resume tomorrow morning sometime,’ said Sammie.

  Chapter 83

  Des Drummond put down the phone. He couldn’t believe what he’d just been told. The acting regional manager in Dawson had called to tell him that they’d found the body of Peter Wellsmore and his death was being treated as suspicious by the police. And, that ICAC had just arrived with a warrant and was searching all the electronic files, email and phone call history.

  He sat with his face in his hands for several minutes. This news had come on top of a call from Todd earlier in the day telling him that ICAC had been questioning Robertson at GrowOz, but not to panic. What a mess, Des thought. I told them it couldn’t go on forever.

  Drummond walked over to his floor-to-ceiling windows and gazed down onto the busy peak-hour streets of Sydney fourteen floors below. Drivers were starting to turn on their lights and with the encroaching dusk he could see the smog caught among the city skyscrapers.

  He walked over to his desk and sat staring into space for ten minutes, his reverie interrupted by the intercom on his desk flashing and emitting a quiet ring tone. ‘Yes, Trudy,’ he said.

  ‘I wondered if you needed anything else from me today, Mr Drummond,’ she asked.

  ‘No, I think not Trudy; thank you, you can go home,’ Drummond replied.

  ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ said a cheery Trudy.

  ‘Thank you Trudy, good night,’ said Drummond.

  He then pulled a piece of paper from the bottom drawer of his desk and began to write. It was a confession. Des’ wife had died a few years earlier. His children were all grown up and married and he had three grandchildren. He told them how sorry he was for not being stronger. How he felt ashamed that after a long career based around integrity and professionalism he had given in to his ego and been willing to compromise his principles in order to become a departmental head. The blood on his hands was too much to face, his note read, along with the humiliation of being found at least partly responsible for the corruption that was about to be exposed.

  Then he stood, stared down at his note momentarily before walking over to the bureau adorned with photos and awards, gazing at them for many long minutes, recalling the pride he had felt when receiving each “trophy” in his long and distinguished public service career. How would he deal with that reputation being tarnished? How would his children react? What about his drinking buddies? He’d be a pariah!

  After staring at the awards until he lost focus, he picked up one he’d received last year, on Australia Day, for 30 years of loyal service—a heavy glass sculpture mounted on a solid polished hardwood base. There were tears running down his cheeks.

  Des walked towards his wonderful view out over the harbour, pulled back his arm and launched the sculpture at one of the windows. As he’d expected it bounced off the hardened glass. He picked it up and threw it again at the same place where the glass was now all glazed and weakening—a spider web of fractures appearing. Twice more and he could feel a draft of air coming through the window. He turned, picked up his executive chair and hurled it at the small hole. The chair disappeared from sight through the now gaping hole.

  The hot afternoon wind howled in. Drummond turned and viewed his palatial office one last time. Was it really worth it? He turned and dived head first through the hole in the window.

  Chapter 84

  Returning to Pip’s house they were all exhausted; drained by the gruesome finding of Wellsmore’s body and then buoyed by the arrival of Sammie and what was now happening at the offices of the Water Resources Department. ‘Does anyone want something to eat?’ asked Pip.

  ‘No, I think not,’ said Sharon. ‘I migh
t head home to my man and give him a big hug and maybe more—if he’s lucky. Somehow I feel the need to escape all this for a little while. See you all tomorrow.’

  Smiling at Sharon’s ability to create awkward moments, Luke said, ‘I think I’ll go and make sure Lisa’s ok.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. Can you drop me at the motel afterwards?’ said Mark.

  ‘Sure,’ said Luke, ‘I’ve decided not to impose on you any longer, Pip, so I’ll go to the motel too. I’m not undercover any longer. In fact, they’re letting me use one of the local cop cars now so no more ‘custard can’ for me,’ he added, laughing.

  ‘Are you sure?’ replied Pip. ‘You’re both welcome to stay here.’

  ‘No, we’ll see you two in the morning,’ said Luke as they both departed.

  After they’d gone, Pip and Jack sat quietly for a while before Pip said, ‘Fancy a quiet red out the back while I sizzle some snags for us?—don’t think I’ve got any steaks.’

  ‘I thought you’d never ask,’ he smiled.

  Pip disappeared into the kitchen and re-appeared with a wine cask. ‘None of that fancy bottled stuff this time—chateau du cardboard this time,’ she chuckled that laugh Jack so enjoyed.

  ‘Not sure this will go well with my painkillers but what the hell—it’s been quite a day,’ said Jack, filling two glasses for them and making for the back door.

  Pip reappeared with the usual tray laden with food. The barbeque was lit and they sat gazing down toward the river—the same river from which Wellsmore’s body had been retrieved last night.

  ‘I’ll bet you never thought your little trip to the country would end up like this,’ said Pip.

  ‘No, certainly not. Do you think that if I’d stayed away Wellsmore might be alive now?’ enquired Jack.

  Pip, surprised by Jack’s question, said, ‘You can’t blame yourself for that. Even if you’d not come back we were determined to keep going.’

 

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