A cool breeze caressed the palm fronds and ferns that edged the liver-shaped pool. A large deck area surrounded the pool. A covered area on the near side protected a rectangular glass table and six chairs. Hedges along the far side blocked the view from the harbour for those at deck level.
Nick sipped at his drink. Bubbles tickled his nose and an unexpected piece of frozen strawberry almost choked him.
“Wow.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “Surprisingly refreshing. It’s late afternoon, though. No beer?”
“Don’t have any beer in the house. I could send out for some if you’d like. We’re wine and gin people.”
“No. No, that’s fine. How are you holding up?”
A brief confused expression flashed across her face. Then the serenity mask re-appeared. “I’m doing okay.”
Nick nodded and took another, more careful, sip. “Okay. But if my experience has told me anything it’s that your husband’s killer is more likely to be family than anyone else.”
“But that’s not why I’m hiring you, Mr Harding. I’m hiring you to find out where the money is going.”
He nodded, slowly, and took another sip. He reached into his back pocket and extracted the single sheet, unfolded it and placed it on the table. “I haven’t signed this yet, so technically you haven’t hired me.”
“Yet. You will. It’s intriguing you, or you wouldn’t be here.”
Nick gestured at the expansive view. “Maybe I’m just here to look at what a shit-tonne of money can buy.”
“You’ve seen it. You’re still here.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and tapped his pockets looking for a pen. She handed him a fine point sharpie. He held it above the signature line. “Just so we’re clear, it’s two thou a day, even if I find nothing.” Four times the most I’ve ever made in a day. Ever.
She nodded. “And I know that’s way more than you’ve ever made in a day, ever, but it’s Andy’s wish, and I need to respect that wish.”
“Why the two-week deadline?”
She held up a finger. “The audit is in three weeks. And after the audit – and you must keep this confidential – I’m taking the company public. I’m leaving for a quick trip to New York in two weeks. You’re finished before I leave, whether you find something or not.”
Nick frowned. “I’m not going to hide anything for you. If there’s fraud, I’ll have an obligation to report it to the Australian Securities and Investment Commission.”
“I want ASIC to know. I want it to be my company which uncovers this, not the auditors, and I want to be able to show our governance framework is strengthened to make sure it never happens again.”
Nick sat back and crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in thought. After a minute he nodded. “Yeah. I can do that. I’ll even throw in some recommendations if I find gaps in the governance.”
“Write your bank details under the signature and I’ll transfer the finds at the end of every day.”
He signed and added his bank account details. Kirra took a picture of it with her phone, then opened her banking app. “You start today. There are still a few hours left. I want you to head to the office and catch up with Brent Slokow. He’s our CFO. It’s a starting point.”
“Okay. I’ll need a ride back to my apartment to get my car.”
Kirra took a key fob from her pocket and placed it on the table. “I want you to stay here for the duration. I’m a bit of a micromanager and this makes it easier. Use this car.”
“Lady, I don’t know what in the hell you’ll think I’ll find, but this is incredibly, suspiciously generous.”
She raised her eyebrows, a small smile on her face. “Suspiciously?”
“I’m a cynic. Wasn’t born that way, but enough years doing what I did, and I can find an ulterior motive in everything.”
“Sad way to live. I certainly didn’t take any money from the company that wasn’t legitimately due me. Like I said, don’t need to.”
Nick looked at her, saying nothing.
After a beat she cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. Her smile slipped a little. “You think I maybe arranged to have my husband killed? That’s really cynical, Nick. The police have me at the top of their list of suspects. You focus on the money. We have big plans for later this year. I don’t want to have to go to market for capital when I really shouldn’t have to.” She looked at her watch. “Brent will be there for another couple of hours. The address is in the car’s navigation system. Security will let you in when you return.”
She retrieved her pen and stood. “I know you’re dubious, Nick. But I trust you can do this.”
He watched her walk away. His phone chimed with a bank alert. Two thousand dollars had just been deposited in his account.
He opened his EnergyAustralia app and paid the electrics bill.
7
The navigation system had certain ideas about the route Nick should take to the Dvorak office. Nick had other ideas. The nominated path estimated a ten minute journey which was nowhere near long enough to sit behind the wheel of the Dvorak Carnival. It was identical to the model Mike picked him up in, but red, like in the office reception area. He marvelled at the car’s responsiveness and took nearly thirty minutes to get to the corporate offices.
“I’m going to get too used to this.” He parked in a visitor’s spot and turned off the car. He brushed his fingertips lightly over the burled teak dash. “Waaaay too used to this.”
The fob gave him access to the lifts to reception. Doris looked up as he approached. “Mr Harding. Kirra mentioned you’d be dropping by. I was expecting you about twenty minutes ago.”
Nick smiled. “Traffic.”
“It is a nice car, isn’t it?”
He chuckled. “I’m here for Brent - “
“- Slokow. He’s on the sixteenth floor. It’s a secure floor.”
“Yeah. Was there yesterday.” Nick held up the key fob. “This will work?”
Doris maintained eye contact while shaking her head and handing him a black visitors card on a lanyard. “That fob gets our customers to reception. Wear the lanyard at all times while you’re on the 16th floor.” She placed a tablet on the counter. “Place your palm here and leave it until the flashing red light turns solid green. You need the card and one of your fingerprints to access the floor.”
She waited until Nick’s handprint had been recorded.
“Security will be notified if you’re on that floor without that lanyard around your neck, and they haven’t been fed in days.” Her mouth smiled, but her eyes didn’t. “Slokow is waiting for you in room 16.07. He’s been waiting for almost thirty minutes. I don’t expect he’ll be happy.”
“Fortunately, my job isn’t to keep Slokow or anyone else happy.” He put the lanyard around his neck and pointed at the stairwell behind reception. “I’ll take the stairs. Do I return this to you at the end of the day, or what?”
“Keep it until you’re finished here. It gets you in and out of the building after hours, also.”
“But always have it around my neck. Right.”
Three floors up to Sixteen. The floor was isolated from the stairwell by two security doors, one on each side. The doors, and the walls, were glass. He could see the layout, a standard cubicle farm surrounding the meeting rooms around the lift lobby. Private offices were at two opposite exterior corners.
His staring was getting some attention. He leaned down, pressed the security badge against the RFID sensor, placed his thumb on the reader and pushed the door open when it clicked. He smiled at the gawkers, turned slowly to get his bearings and made a beeline for meeting room 16.07.
It was a smaller room then he’d met Kirra in. A video monitor was at the opposite end of the table as the door. Two chairs were at either side of the table and one faced the monitor.
Brent was sitting on the right, laptop in front of him and mobile phone pressed to his head. “He’s here.” He hung up. “You’re late.” He was too large for his clothes. His
suit was expensive, but tight. His top shirt button was undone and his tie loosened. He was at least a month overdue for a haircut, and his skin had that waxy look of someone who’d had bad seafood. He looked like the drummer for a bad country and western cover band.
“Can’t be late if I didn’t agree to a meeting time. You know why I’m here?” He settled into a chair across from Brent.
The CFO nodded. “Kirra mentioned something.” He slid the open laptop across the table. “You should have kept this yesterday.”
Nick took the laptop and turned it to face him. “Same laptop?”
“You should have kept it yesterday.”
He closed the lid and placed his hand on it. “I’ve got some questions.”
Brent looked at his watch. “It’s month end and there’s an external audit in three weeks. I’m a busy man.”
Nick smiled and shook his head. “You’ve got a team. Knowing Goh, you’ve got a very good, well-paid, team. They’re doing all the work and you’re signing off.”
Slokow leaned back in his chair. Sweat beaded along his hairline. “Maybe a couple of months ago. I’m very hands on, now. It’s triple check the triple checks these days. Everything needs to be really tight.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you look on your own. I have a different opinion than both Andy Goh and his widow. The books balance. I will swear on a stack of bibles. A forensic accounting firm could take the books apart and find nothing out of the ordinary. But because they both think something is fishy, I need belt, suspenders and apparently duct tape.” He placed his hands on the table and pushed himself to a standing position. “I think she’s wasting her time. And yours. And, apparently, since I have to help you, mine. I understand you’ve got two weeks to find evidence of financial wrongdoing. Good luck. There’s nothing to find. This’ll be the easiest money you make.” He pointed at the black badge hanging around Nick’s neck. “Keep that on or there’ll be problems. You’ve got this room for a couple of hours if you need it. Otherwise, just find a spare cubical.”
Nick nodded and waited until Slokow left and the door closed before he pulled the sticky note from his shirt pocket and logged into the laptop. SAP was an enterprise-level piece of accounting software and cumbersome to the untrained user. It had been more than a few years since he’d last used it, and like all enterprise software it had gone through a number of upgrades since then.
He sighed and navigated to the Reports area. He had full access. “Interesting.” He found the cash flow statements, the balance sheets and the income statements for the past three quarters. He drummed his fingers on the meeting table for a minute, then stuck his head out of the meeting room door. He tapped the arm of the first person walking past. “Hey, where are the printers around here?” He held up the black visitor’s ID card. “I’ve got some things that need secure printing.”
The guy pointed. “Over in the corner. Another one in the opposite corner. If your machine is on this floor it will only print to those two.”
“Security settings? I don’t want it printing out before I get there.”
“It queues on the machine. Only prints when you tap your card on the reader attached to the printer.”
Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “Outstanding. Thanks a tonne.”
He ducked back into the meeting room and printed the summary documents for three months of financials. The software told him it took up 47 pages. “I hate this shit.”
He closed the laptop and stuck it under his arm and wandered around the floor. Most monitors had polarised privacy screens on them, blocking the view of the monitor contents unless the viewer was within plus or minus ten degrees of dead centre.
Shelves of binders lined the partitions that broke the floor into discrete sections; accounts payable, receivable, payroll, inventory control, some others he didn’t care to know. He gathered attention as he walked, but was left alone. He grabbed the ID card to keep it from slapping against his chest as he walked.
The printer, the one he found, was in a corner of the floor where the stationary lived. Beside it was a set of shelves filled with reams of paper, notebooks, pens, staplers, highlighters and every other thing an office flunky could want.
Nick tapped his card on the reader affixed to the side of the printer. The touchscreen changed to display his three waiting jobs. He selected them all to print.
He placed his laptop on one of the shelves and grabbed a couple notebooks and a fistful of pens. He stuck the pens in his inside suit pocket and placed the notebooks on top of the laptop and tucked all of that under his arm.
The printer spat paper out efficiently, aligning and stapling each report as they finished. Silence descended in the small corner room after the third staple job. He picked the reports off the printer and idly rifled through them.
“You’re not going to find anything in there that will be of any help.”
Nick looked up. “Huh?” Sam was standing in front of him, waiting for him to move out of the way. “Ah. You work on this floor?”
“Getting some expenses sorted out at the source.” She held up her ID card. “Can I get past?”
He stepped to one side. “Sure. What did you mean?” He held up the printouts.
“We had our army of shiny-faced, eager-beaver financial people go over detailed reports with a fine-toothed comb and came up with nothing. I doubt you’ll find anything they didn’t just by looking at the summaries.”
Nick tucked the reports between the notebooks. “You’re probably right. Slokow said the same. But I’ve got to start somewhere.”
Sam grabbed her two pages off the printer and followed him out. “Next steps?”
“I haven’t finished the first steps.” He looked at the time. “I’ll take this back home and work on it there. I’ll probably bump into you tomorrow, right?”
Sam cocked her head and looked at the laptop. “Where’s the case?”
“Didn’t get one. Or a charging cable.”
Sam snorted. “Slokow is a waste of space. I told him to give it to you when he gave you the laptop. Follow me.”
She led the way through the maze of desks to one of the corner offices. She knocked and entered without waiting for a response. “You have the laptop case I left with you, Slokow?”
The CFO pushed back from his desk and grabbed a case leaning against the wall. “Jesus, Sam. Wait for me to open the door next time, okay?” He tossed the case at Nick. “Everything’s in there. Close the door on the way out. I’m still working.”
Nick awkwardly caught it and shuffled the laptop, notebooks and financial reports into it and zipped it shut. He followed Sam out of the office and closed the door behind him.
“You seemed a little familiar with the CFO.”
She snorted. “The guy’s a moron.” She grimaced. “That’s not fair. I’m sure he’s financially smart, but his social intelligence is on par with one of those squeegee guys at the street corner. They really can’t read a room. Either can Slokow. Anyway. Great seeing you again. We’ll have to catch up over coffee one day. I’ve got stuff to do. Later.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Maybe. I’m IT. We’re everywhere.” She grinned and turned right, back into the corral of desks as Nick turned left through the security door to the lifts.
8
“Davie, you’ve got a couple of weeks off, right?” Nick tooled up the Pacific Highway, way out of his way back to the Goh residence. Or, he thought, the Roach residence. Goh had gone. His phone was blue-toothed to the car’s audio system.
“Yeah. At least that, they said. I’m a corporate liability. Why? Want to head up to the Gold Coast?”
“No. I took the case. Financial crimes. I need some heavy duty computer work. Probably. It pays.”
“Where are you, man? Sounds windy. And your car is still in its spot.”
Nick took an exit, crossed over the highway and headed back toward the city. “I’m
in a sweet convertible. Pack a couple of days clothes.”
“Didn’t say yes.”
“Five hundred a day.”
“When do you get here?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Nick smiled as cool breeze washed over his bald scalp. “Maybe twenty.”
* * *
The suspension on the small sports car was smart enough to accommodate the additional weight in the passenger side without knocking the car off kilter. Davie finger-combed his long red hair and smiled. “Sweet wheels. Swing past that chicken place. I’m starved.”
“Food at the house.” He glanced at Davie. “And there’s no way in hell you’re eating chicken in this car.”
Davie looked at Nick, puzzled. Then his eyes grew. “The house? THE house? I’ve seen pictures.” He chuckled. “That guy must have the most high-tech house in Sydney.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs. “You’ve been there?”
“The guy’s dead, mate. Show a little respect.” Nick eased through the narrow roads in Vaucluse.
“I’m kinda stoked to be detecting with you. You got any leads?”
Nick chuckled. “I’m not going to find anything. A slew of internal accountants couldn’t find anything. I doubt I’ll do any better.”
Davie frowned and looked at Nick. “So…”
“So I’m making $1500 a day and you’re making $500 a day for the next thirteen days.” He slowed to a stop at the gate. “If we find anything, it’ll be a bonus.”
Mike was outside the property, talking to one of the really big guys. He stopped when he saw the car. Walked to the front of it, between the number plate and the gate, and crossed his arms. “Who’s the big ginger?”
Nick placed his hand on Davie’s arm to shut him up. “This is my IT guy. Davie Sangster. Key to my investigation. I’ve cleared it with Kirra.”
“Did you, now?”
Nick smiled. “I will. It’ll be cool. Come on, mate. I need this guy to do my job. Paying him myself.”
Mike narrowed his eyes, looked at Nick, then Davie. He took a breath, then stood to one side and nodded at one of the big guys. They entered a code and the gate rolled open.
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