Garrett & Sunny: Sometimes Love is Funny

by Peter Butler

  'You're certainly not making this easy for me by being so secretive, Gary. I've never handled the negotiating before, I've only ever sat-in on your deals.'

  'Many, many times Sky. You're a smart girl - that pen surgery to your hand proves that. Ling has already started to unload his stock, so he's a definite seller. Oh, and by the way, check on who bought the 1.3% he just sold.'

  'Oh! I can tell you that. He sold them on-market in small parcels over the whole week. He averaged between 9.5 and 10.5 cents for them. They were picked up by about thirty different investors, or speculators, more likely. Can you at least tell me why this is so urgent?'

  'Can't say over the phone, but it has to do with a gift that Gran gave me, or wants to give to me. I need you to phone her legal rep. His name's Gerald Muggleton. He's the Senior Counsel at Shawston Legal in the city. I'm sorry, I don't have his number, and the receptionist might be reluctant to put you through to him; these boys charge everything in 6 minute blocks, at a million bucks per block,' I laughed at my sarcastic dig. 'So give Gran a call and ask her for his private number. I need you to give him this message. "Please delay any transfers for as long as possible." If it's at all possible, Sky, I would prefer him to tear up the forms we signed in his office the other day. Stress it is incredibly important. Email me his answer, ASAP. Make the text as cryptic as you can. Refer to him as "the guy" and the forms as "stuff".'

  'This sounds very cloak and dagger, Gary. Is it all above-board?'

  'Good question, Sky. I'd need a Law degree to give you an answer. A lot depends on how far Gerald has progressed, he did say he was going to proceed slowly so we could fly under the radar. I'm going to have Sophie get up to speed with how quickly we need to advise the Australian Stock Exchange of any relevant changes to Aussie stock holdings. If you get a chance can you remind her to get on to that? It might keep me out of the clink.' I laughed to take the seriousness out of what I'd just said. But deep down I wasn't totally sure of where I stood, English laws and Australian laws have the same common base, but are not identical.

  'If we can do a deal with Ling Mien he'll want some cash pretty soon. Where are we getting that?'

  'I want you to sell the Fund's holding of Apple shares. I did a quick conversion to Aussie dollars and that should give us about $1.2 million. More than enough for your deal with Ling.'

  'Wow,' she said. 'You should go to Australia more often, things really start to happen,' she paused, then added. 'Tell me the truth, Gary. You're actually stretched out on a beach somewhere and this conversation is just to impress the Aussie chick on the lounge beside you, who you want to jump on.' She giggled, tauntingly. 'You'll be calling back in a minute and telling me to forget everything.'

  'Just do as I say, woman, or I'll fire your ass and make sure you never work in this town, again.' I laughed back at her.

  'Ha!' She laughed dismissively. 'I've never been to Culgawinya and I don't think I'd really want to work there, anyway.'

  'You don't. It's a little too warm for us pasty white Poms,' I conceded. 'I appreciate what you're doing Sky. Good luck with your first solo negotiation. Oh, and one last thing, make all of these calls from your cell phone. Don't use the work phone.'

  I checked my phone's battery and it was still strong, so I dialed Sophie. The call went through to her voice-mail. Sophie must still be in bed. Must have been a decent jog she went on to tire her out so much.

  I called Sunny's number.

  I think her voice-mail is starting to really like me.

  ***

  I knocked on Truf's door.

  'Come in. It's open.'

  He was sitting on his bed with his laptop open, typing furiously into it. The scene looked funny to me. With giant Truf a normal size computer looks more like a toy on his lap and I wondered how those huge fingers managed to only strike one key at a time, especially at the speed they were working at.

  His room was identical to mine, except his air conditioner was on and reasonably quiet. As a result his room was bloody comfortable mate, to describe it in Australian.

  'What ya' working on?' I inquired.

  'I think I have the answer to that little question we were asking ourselves about, today. The one about why things had remained unknown for so long.' He looked at me and tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. Subtly asking if I understood what he was talking about.

  Of course I knew that he was talking about the gold bearing rock we'd found and I fully agreed with his abstract way of introducing the subject. Not that I would imagine our rooms were bugged, that would just be silly. But the walls were thin and who knew who could be listening.

  'Yep. I've been thinking about that, too. What's your guess?'

  'I wonder if you remember seeing on the TV news the big floods that hit Brisbane back in 2011, in January actually? I can remember seeing boats and pontoons that had been washed away, racing along on the fast flowing water and crashing into bridges,' he said and shook his head at the memory.

  'I remember,' I said, nodding in agreement. 'An awful lot of the city went under, too'.'

  'Well, some of that flood water started its journey to the coast from the ranges North-West of here. In fact a huge amount of this actual area went under, too. You know the power of water, Gary,' he said with a chuckle. 'Remember when we were at the beach with your family, when a little wave collected you and catapulted you, ass-over-tit onto the beach, a few years ago?'

  'It was more than a few years ago... and it was a bloody big wave,' I defended myself. 'And I was only fourteen. Give me a break.'

  'Not my point, Gary,' he mocked my over-reaction. 'Water has the power to move mountains. You only need to look at what the Colorado River has done to create the Grand Canyon in the USA. That, I think, is what we we're looking at, here.'

  I just nodded in case the spooks were all holding their stethoscopes to our walls and noting every word we uttered. What Truf had worked out was the answer for sure. The big flood of 2011 had cut a section of softer rock away that had been covering the gold bearing quartz for millions of years. Its time to come to the surface, and greet the sunshine, had arrived with that flood. And we were lucky enough to be the first people to stumble upon it. Well, not actually the first. Little Joey gets that award. But we were the first to understand what we had actually found.

  I hope.

  'I did some checking on our vandal friends,' Truf continued, still in code-speak. But then he lost patience with the game and gave it to me straight in a quiet voice. 'According to documents they have submitted to the Stock Exchange, they've drilled five dry wells, and are currently drilling number six. Joey and Warra say this current one is only their second,' He looked questioningly at me. 'We need to check that out. I can't see any way that the aborigines could get that wrong. This land is their life, they know where every bird roosts and every kangaroo rests. Where every drop of water can be found,' Truf offered up his list of analogies. He was on a roll and continued. 'For them to miss four wells being drilled so close-by is comparable to us missing a boil the size of a lemon on our butt.'

  'Got it Truf. You can give the similes a rest now,' I laughed at his attempt to colorfully explain what he had discovered. He was right, though. There was no way Joey, Bully and the others wouldn't be all over that, especially after what the miners had done to their billabong. But why would Plutarch management deliberately lie to the Exchange? You can go to jail for that. I know this because I was treading very close to that same line at the moment. But nowhere near as seriously as these bastards seemingly had.

  I moved close to Truf so we could continue talking. I had even less desire to be overheard than Truf had.

  'I'm making a play on Plutarch Resources,' I whispered to him. 'I'm confident I can buy the Chinese guy's holding using Nixon Fund within the next day or two. Sky's working on it as we speak.'

  He looked at me in a way that suggested he knew that is what I'd be doing. 'There's virtually no downside for you,' he offered with a grin. 'Even i
f you have to pay double, say 20c a share, the value of just that gold that's poking out of the ground would probably cover the purchase price.'

  'That's kind of what I was thinking. The problem I have, Truf, is that I don't want to trigger an on-market takeover. I'm going to get Sophie to give me an exact reading on the laws here in Australia as to how much of the company I can own, or nominally control, before I am required to make a formal takeover offer.' I made a face at him, then added, 'That is, when I can get hold of the girl. I can only get her voice-mail so far.'

  'I'm pretty sure above 20% will trigger the need to make an offer for control of the company. But you're not an Australian citizen, so possibly the laws are different for you.' Truf said.

  'Yep. That's what I'm thinking, too,' I concurred. 'You're a vital part of this little expedition, Truf. I want you to be a big part of the future plans, one way or another,' I said.

  He nodded in agreement. Like, that was a given; there was no way to keep him out.

  'Now, the big question.' I smiled and raised my eyebrows questioningly. 'How much money can you get your hands on... quickly?'

  Then I laid out my plan for Plutarch - and for him.

  ***

  We sat at our table in the main bar, which was also the restaurant at the Drover's Dog and the three of us simultaneously wiped our mouths on our paper napkins. We had thoroughly enjoyed our thick, juicy Porterhouse steaks that had been perfectly cooked and served by our extremely flirtatious waitress, Bev. A side serve of chips and even a bottle of tomato sauce were available to drown any part of our meal that we wished to alter the taste of. Salad was the only thing missing. I enjoy a salad with a steak, but lettuce, cabbage and other leafy foods, strangely, don't do well in these warm parts. Boiled peas, beans and carrots were our vegetable accompaniment. They also struggle with the heat, but, in their favor, they transport very well in frozen form.

  None of us were complaining, Bev had done a fine job. She was quite a woman, and I watched as she cleared our plates from the table. At least I think she was clearing our plates. I was looking at her backside and momentarily I had X-ray vision, just like Superman. Actually, it was probably a memory of a vision, but I marveled at my brains ingenuity. Being able to remove her clothes like that was a big plus. If I could just keep this skill and take it with me everywhere I'd be one happy guy. And Little Gary would also be a happy guy.

  As Bev disappeared back into the kitchen with her arms piled high with our dirty plates I tested my new talent on the only other woman in the room. She was rather large and quite muscular. I guessed her age at about fifty. She was standing with her back to me and talking to George, who stood behind the bar pretending to be busy. I looked at her with the same intensity that I had been applying to Bev, but her clothes remained in place.

  So much for my new skill. Although, now armed with hindsight I reconsidered and was a little relieved - some mysteries are best left as secrets.

  I turned back to rejoin the table conversation, only to see Truf walking away. He was heading straight for the pool table. The one that Felix was in the process of deftly lining up a side-pocket with his cue-stick.

  'What the fuck is he doing?' I whispered urgently to Tim, whose mouth gaped open in surprise. He clearly had nothing to offer.

  Felix wasn't a tall man, but he had the solid, bull-like features of a man possessed of great strength. Truf was huge and in great trim and I knew from personal experience that he was also incredibly strong. I wondered if Culgawinya had a hospital. A doctor. A morgue, even. Maybe those jobs were handled by the barber...

  Truf tapped Felix on the shoulder as he lined up his shot. He was the only person playing the table, as all the locals had been warned of the consequences of engaging him, just like we had. Truf must have missed the memo, although I'm pretty sure he was there when it went out.

  Felix turned on him and glared. 'What do you want?' he said very deliberately, in a thick German accent.

  'A game of pool,' Truf said in a cheerful voice. 'You seem to be playing with yourself...' He let the inferred taunt hang in the air, then added, 'in need of someone to test you out.'

  Felix had been at the pool-table the entire time we had been there. He had had a meal also, taking mouthfuls of food and a gulp of beer, between shots with his cue.

  'I don't need to be tested, I know I'm the best,' Felix replied, dismissively.

  'I beg to differ,' Truf countered. 'I've seen you cock-up numerous shots.'

  'You're English, yes?' Felix said the word, English with a menacing little hiss on the end. Suddenly this local confrontation had become a thing of national pride. 'Cock-up, is a phrase you English need to use all the time.'

  'Mainly when referring to Continentals,' Truf smiled humorlessly back at him. 'You're Italian I gather.'

  'You know well I'm of German heritage,' Felix sneered.

  I could just make out the conversation from where we sat and I turned to Tim and said, 'I don't know what the hell he's up to, but I wish he'd given us a chance to vote on it before he charged off.'

  'He mumbled something about testing the water. Then he got up and went over there,' Tim said. 'He said it to you, but you were staring at the woman at the bar and ignored him.'

  Oh crap! I could have stopped this happening if I wasn't so busy thinking about... other things.

  'They only seem to have one cue-stick,' Truf said to the German, 'and I don't fancy sharing it. It would be a dull game anyway, I fancy. So I withdraw my offer to play.'

  'Perhaps, this is just as well, Englishman. I'd hate to have to break it over your thick skull.'

  'From what I've seen of your skill, I imagine you'd most likely miss,' Truf said. He turned towards our table and fired a parting shot at the German. 'Either way, it would be a dreadful mistake.'

  I watched as Felix's grip on the cue tightened and he began to lift it. Then he changed his mind and returned his attention to the colored balls on the pool table.

  I'd been concentrating on the potential situation so intently that I hadn't realized the ambient noise in the bar had dropped to zero. This was why I could hear what the two men were saying. I looked around the room and saw every pair of eyes had been locked on Truf's exchange with Felix. Even Bev had picked up on the altered mood and had reappeared from the kitchen. She watched Truf every step of the way back to his seat. George was glaring at Truf and shaking his head from behind the bar.

  Slowly, the room began to buzz again and Truf calmly sat back down at our table.

  I looked at him with my eyebrows raised, and said. 'Why?'

  Truf grinned. 'I had to know.'

  'You must have missed it, but George already told us,' I replied, sarcastically.

  'He couldn't tell me what I just found out.'

  'What? That he didn't want to play pool with you?'

  'It was in his eyes, Gary.' Truf looked at me intently and nodded, knowingly. 'I saw it. I now know how Felix will react when he's cornered.'

  ***

  My short time in Queensland had taught me that the sun goes to bed early and gets up early in these here parts. In London we most likely would have just been going out for the night, but here in Culgawinya when they talk about nightlife, they are talking about the animals that come to life when the temperature drops to a semi-reasonable level.

  I wasn't about to engage with any of those critters, and I wasn't ready for bed just yet. I took the time to compose an email to Sophie with the few details of the phone call that we still hadn't had. These were very general, non-incriminating details that I was okay with sending in an exposed manner. As soon as I'd hit the send button I picked up the phone and tried her number.

  She answered giving me her best "Goldfinger" impression. 'Ah, Mr. Bond, I've been expecting you.'

  It was a terrible impersonation, but good on her for having a crack. 'Keep your day job, Sophie,' I laughed along with her.

  'So, what's with all this secretive, hush, hush, stuff? I've been talking with Sky and sh
e thinks you might have gone bonkers.'

  'Well, that is possible,' I conceded. 'But, I still want you to take it seriously. Very seriously. From now on nothing sensitive goes in an email and all calls need to come from your cell phone. I gather Sky has told you that we're buying into Plutarch Resources and that I need all the information about takeovers of Australian listed companies. I want the information just as bullet points, Soph. I don't want reams of technical stuff. How much I can nominally control without having to go all out and bid on the whole company? Who do they regard as associated parties? Their definition of warehousing shares. That sort of stuff. I want to fly under the radar for as long as is legally possible. That's your first assignment and I need it in the next few hours.'

  'I think I can manage all that. Trying to not leave a paper trail, eh? It wont work. If it hits the fan they will access all our phone records.'

  'All they'll get is the three of us just keeping in touch. Any internet searches you make will be consistent with the work you normally do. Except maybe for my next job for you. I need you to check around as many Australian art galleries as you can, and find out about an aboriginal artist called Warra Goomagawa.' I spelled his name for her. 'Pretend to be a buyer. I need to know how widely his art is being sold, so you'll need to call, or check websites of some English and European galleries as well. And if you have the time, some in the USA, too. Try New York first, then L.A. and Miami. I want the name of the distributing dealer. There may be more than one, but the primary Australian dealer is the main name I need. I've put all that in an email that you should have by now.'

  'Do you actually want to buy a painting?' She sounded confused.

  'Not at this stage. It's all tied in, though.' I heard her exasperated sigh. 'I'm sorry I can't tell you exactly what's going on. You know I would if we were face to face.'

  'So, is that the end of our business, Mr. Bond?' She inquired, returning to her spy theme.

  'I guess it is... Miss... What should I call you? Miss... Golddigger?'