Wyatt Earp: and the Boomerang Refugium

by Jack Sunn

  “All yours,” he said, “but don’t be surprised.”

  The air in the subterranean container was certainly stale, smelling a bit like a poorly ventilated sports locker room. Susan was first down, followed by myself and Trevor.

  “The place is empty Jack,” she said. “Let’s take a cue from Trevor. Turn the lights on, fans if present, and have a look around.”

  The room looked empty, but not clean. It was like a house emptied of its contents but not yet cleaned.

  I think I got in just before Trevor was about to speak, and said, “Stop everything. Let’s back up and get out and hand it over to your forensic team Susan. Whether it be scraps of currency polymer, ink, machine parts or even drugs, they are the people to handle it. Let’s head out and close up.” Both Susan and Trevor agreed. Susan took some photos, turned off the lights and fan and we exited. We were disappointed, but confident that Trevor’s air samples or forensics would unwind a story.

  Back at the car I said, “Trevor, let’s go back to the hotel, but firstly we need to get some food.” Back at the hotel Trevor was first off on the next line of enquiry.

  “When we look at the copy centre’s tax return do we see any indication of wages being paid? Answer yes, or no. Either way whose car was parked under the house?” Trevor, quick as had his laptop open and retrieved the video footage of the drive by. With the number plate duly written down, Susan called the local police station, and we near instantly had a name and registered address.

  Trevor was next to speak. “Name not a Cavallo, but could be a relative. Daniel Moro. I’ll check where he lives.”

  A few moments later and Trevor said, “Oh really, is this a coincidence or not? The address is not only one street behind the copy centre, but right behind the back fence. What say we cruise past and take a peek? Could easily be something sus.”

  We drove past and Trevor said, “That house looks like it wants for nothing.” The house had closed roller doors built in under an older hi-set house. An upmarket car sat in the drive.

  “The roller doors are newish. The driveway is stained patterned concrete. The external steps have been removed. The sides of the house have colorbond steel fencing obscuring the back yard, which extends to border the copy centre’s yard, and it looks like censor lights both sides of the roller doors. So, what is the connection here and why does Moro have an old landcruiser parked at the Copy Centre? Let’s see if there has been any movement detected by your eyes and ears at the Copy Centre, and re-look at the video of the shed in the back yard.

  Trevor interrupted us. “Hey guys. Have a look at this. Nothing special about the shed, but it does butt up to the back fence. Now, this image from Google maps shows… da da da da drum roll, Moro has a shed right on the other side of the fence behind the copy centre’s shed. How convenient!”

  “What next?” said Susan.

  “Time to take the dog for a walk,” said Trevor.

  Susan and I both looked a little perplexed as we looked at each other after this statement.

  “One should always remember to exercise your pets when travelling long distances. Having come from Cairns en-route to Mackay, Boxer needs his daily run.”

  As Trevor was saying this, he was sorting through his box of trade tools.

  “Damn,” said Trevor. “Boxy got away.” And he held up a leash with a well-worn but broken collar. I guess I’ll have to see if I can find him.” Trevor was never short of surprises.

  Next, he got his mobile phone out, sorted through the photos, showed us one and asked, “Haven’t seen him, have you?” The elusive but unseen Boxer.

  First port of call was to stop near the park up the road from the copy centre.

  “Well here goes.” And with leash in hand Trevor was off. “See you soon.”

  During the time Trevor was away Susan had identified the upmarket car at Moro’s house as belonging to one Anita Cavallo. Within fifteen minutes Trevor was back.

  “The two sheds join. It looks like a short tunnel of ten to fifteen centimetres connecting them. And not surprising, Mr Moro has not seen Boxy. Did not like being interrupted either. Check this out.” Trevor opened his laptop, turned it on, and plugged in a cable out of his pocket.

  “You now have a picture of both Moro, and I presume a Miss Cavallo. As I also dropped my lighter, you also have some prints of the presumed Miss Cavallo. Could come in handy. Now why do you suppose the sheds are connected?

  Susan was next to speak, having just taken a call on her phone.

  “Forensics is on site at the shed within a shed within a shed, and Miss Cavallo, though Australian is Italian born and a frequent traveller to her Home Country. We’ll see what forensics find, which may give us due reason to do a search of the copy centre. We will have to be careful and get Legal involved. Trevor. Can you access local government building approvals? Non-adherence to building codes is a serious business, and can you get local council work clothes to fit Jack? An impromptu knock at the door may stir up some illicit activity.”

  We returned to our hotel to regroup and think through what we knew, as well as the legality of possible actions, and importantly strategy. And also to report in our day’s findings. And then Susan’s phone rang. We kept quiet.

  “Bingo,” she said and jumped in the air.

  “Well don’t keep us in suspense,” I said.

  “The Cavallos are total idiots. A broken piece of polymer sheet partially printed as a one-hundred-dollar note was wedged in the skirting board. Like a fragment of paper you get when a copier or printer jams. They are taking it back to check for any prints. The boss is excited and happy. We are in the lead, but we are getting extra help. Jack, you and I are off to see the bosses. Trevor, I assume you’ll be happy to stay sort of incognito? Also Trevor, are your sources faster at getting birth records and family trees than ours? I’d like to know a bit more about how extensive is the Cavallo family, and any relationship they may have with this Moro fellow.”

  “Can do,” said Trevor.

  ----------

  Having passed counterfeit money, though unknowingly, and having said to Ruth and Alf that they had burned the shed down for the Cavallo brothers, Davo and Pete had little else they could do but to accept an offer of immunity should they play along with the police running the investigation of which Ruth and Alf were a part.

  They did not like it, but they did not like the Cavallo family either. To set it up, Davo and Pete started rebuilding the burnt garage. Within hours a goon working for the Cavallos hurriedly parked at the front when he saw what Davo and Pete were doing.

  “What’s with the rebuilding of the garage? The boss is not happy.”

  “At least I get paid real money.” Davo said. “Not that dodgy stuff like you paid us with. You want me to work for you and you pay me crap. It’s gonna cost you three times as much next time, or real money up front.”

  The Cavallo goon left but came back within the hour and handed an envelope to Davo.

  Davo was prepared. “What’s this then?”

  “The boss wants another job done, and there is extra money to compensate for any misunderstanding. You work for the Cavallos now. Be smart and spread this stuff around thinly.”

  Davo took the envelope.

  The goon’s verbal instructions were clear, “Put a truck through the fence of the property. Make it look like an accident Davo.”

  “Alright. But it may take a little while. And we do not want it connected with this garage shed do we?” said Davo.

  What the Cavallos did not know was that Davo recorded the entire conversation using the record facility on his mobile phone. He shortly met up with Alf and Ruth, not overly happy at being included in their plans, but a little happy to be getting payback. Ruth carefully put the envelope with the cash inside it into a plastic bag along with the mobile phone.

  ----------

  In Townsville, a letter was delivered to Moro advising him that a council inspection of the shed was scheduled for some time in the nex
t couple of days. Moro showed the letter to Anita Cavallo.

  “Check the letter box of the copy centre next door,” she said.

  Moro did so and there was no letter in the Copy Centre’s mailbox – no mail at all. “Okay. Move all equipment back to the Copy Centre’s shed and I’ll take the last of the shipment to Brisbane.”

  Meanwhile, unbeknown to Anita Cavallo, Moro had been liaising with his uncle, Stuart Lombardo.

  “All right Daniel. This is what I want you to do. Move the equipment to the Copy Centre shed as Anita requested, then demolish your shed. Get some help if you need it. Put copies of your records and files in the shed as well, and let me know which flight Anita is on. I’ll handle it this end.

  When the council inspector turned up two days later, the inspection was to no avail as there was no shed there. But closeness of the neighbouring shed to where the Moro shed was of concern and warranted inspection. A letter was duly deposited in the Copy Centre letter box, and not the Post Office box the Cavallos usually use for correspondence. Consequently, the letter was missed and the shed inspected. It helped that the letter was backdated and deposited in the letterbox at the same time the shed was inspected.

  There being copy equipment, office files and what appeared to be a supply of polymer sheeting, the AFP was immediately brought in.

  ----------

  The next day Inspector Richards rang Susan.

  “Susan. Good news. With the evidence collected from Townsville, and the cash and phone Ruth brought us yesterday, we now have the Cavallos responsible for production and supply of counterfeit currency, as well as soliciting damage to property.”

  Trevor was adept at piecing together complicated jig saw puzzles. The burnt shed was part of the property owned by the aging Lombardo family, with the Lombardo family going back further in Australian history than the Cavallo family. He established that Dan Moro was part of the Lombardo family working for the Cavallo Copy Centre to find out if the business was legitimate. Trevor’s files contained references to a feud between the two families going back generations. But no one in the Cavallo family knew that Moro was a Lombardo insider.

  Trevor explained to Susan, “It seems the Lombardo’s had no time for the mafia types in Australia, and being legitimately wealthy from cane farming and fruit businesses, had their own investigations going on.”

  Under advisement from Susan, Moro was given a warning as was Stuart Lombardo, but knowing that they assisted in making sure the Cavallos were caught, were off-the-record thanked for their good citizenship.

  Eventually Moro sold his house behind the Copy Centre and bought the house next door to the Lombardo house in Brisbane that was owned by Cavallos.

  When I eventually met Stuart Lombardo, I noticed a calm and reserve that is seen in wizened men of old. He spoke to me nostalgically of his memories of his grandparents talking about home and village life, grapes, wine and olives, and of course the incredible food and sense of family. He said, “I have heard of your Wyatt Earp project. Commendable Mr Sunn. Maybe we could plan something together to make the world a better place, at least in a corner of Brisbane. Maybe a fruit & vegetable emporium, a co-op or Italian food and craft centre, with a TaSMAN Security retail presence if we remodel some of these three adjoining properties. After what happened in Townsville I wanted to buy the corner property but I see the TaSMAN group has beaten me to it. I will think further and I hope you might also do the same. Somehow, I think you will, and I look forward to our next meeting.

  ----------

  As for Davo and Pete, no charge of arson was issued because of their assistance in the counterfeit operation. As it turned out, Davo was a nephew of the late Vincenzo Lombardo, a cousin of Stuart’s, and accordingly was severely scolded by Stuart.

  “You do yourself, our family and this country a disservice by having associated with the Cavallos. You should be ashamed of yourself. But you redeemed yourself somewhat by assisting in their arrest.”

  ----------

  Alf took one last ride to see Davo. He said to him, “If you’ll listen, I would like to tell you some of my story, about now being useful and not just a worthless bikie. I’ll continue working with Jack and the TaSMAN Group. Why don’t you work with your Uncle Stuart? We don’t have to be Mother Teresa’s, but I’d have to say that the past few years with Jack and the TaSMAN Group far-and-away surpassed many a year as a boozing bikie. And I also got engaged to one incredible woman. You are a relative of Uncle Stuart. Working with him could be a door to another life if you want it, and a doorway to a rich ancestral heritage which is yours to claim.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Three months later on a Friday morning two envelopes addressed to me arrived in the morning mail. One was in a large envelope so I opened it first. It contained a handwritten letter, a solicitor’s letter, and an accompanying satchel. Unusual. Handwritten letters were becoming increasingly rare in my life. I started with the handwritten letter, perused the remainder of the documents, and then came to a complete stop. I was in limbo. It was like a great weight had been removed from my shoulders, only to be replaced with something heavier. I simply stopped everything except breathing, and even that was erratic. The shock of the contents made me temporarily forget the second envelope. I opened it and again stopped in surprise.

  I knew Edwin was nearby. I got up from my desk and found him in the kitchen. “Edwin, my dear friend. I would like to ask a favour of you please. Do you know where Susan, Ray and Alisha are? I really would like to talk to them soon.”

  “I do Sir,” he said. Edwin preferred formality. It was his way of belonging in our society. “They are expected back here within the hour.”

  “Thank-you Edwin. When they arrive would you please invite them to the outdoor kitchen, and will you also join us? I am going out there now. Something has come up, and I wish counsel from all who are close to me.”

  “I will Sir. Is there anything I can do to assist you in the meantime?”

  “Thank-you, no, Edwin.”

  Ray, Susan and Alisha duly arrived and were greeted by Edwin who, unusually, had a heightened look of being on edge. He was the first to speak. “Master Ray, Madam Susan, Madam Alisha. I fear something has happened. Master Jack is in the garden and has requested our collective counsel at the earliest. Are you able to come with me please?”

  Without losing step the four of them hastily entered the garden retreat to see me sitting quietly and still. I got up.

  “Thank-you all. Please take a seat. We have tea and refreshments. Thank you for coming so soon.”

  Susan and Ray were clearly concerned, but I quickly allayed their fears. I held up my hands.

  “Firstly, I’m fine. I have called you here to share something. Today the world changed, substantially, and I think irreversibly. In this morning’s mail I received two envelopes, the contents of which I would like to share with you in a moment. But first, let’s partake of the refreshments at hand, as this may take a while.”

  I had earlier photocopied the relevant material from the first envelope, and handed each a copy. From the first envelope, the hand-written letter was on top. It read:

  Dear Mr Sunn,

  I am writing to you anonymously as I feel it is in our mutual best interests.

  I neither crave nor need any further publicity in life, and my anonymity allows you to maintain your independence and freedom from me without incurring any possible baggage associated with me. Further, you need never have to defend me since I remain anonymous. I think, or at least hope, that you see some wisdom in this when you review the contents of the enclosed satchel.

  In my life, I have found it rare for individuals in our country to combine altruism with large inputs of effort and money. This is obviously where you differ from most of our politicians and business leaders. You have clearly seen need for change in certain societal sectors, and independently acted successfully in giving some of the world’s veterans affordable accommodation and dignity. This is highly commendable. Fur
ther, you sought no publicity for your actions. I suspect, and hopefully correctly, that you see that what you have been able to achieve thus far as only the beginning. I wish not to tell you or direct you in what further you do. However, should you wish to use the resources listed in the satchel, they may provide a boost to your endeavours. It is my hope that you will accept the contents, and regard them not as a burden, but rather as an opportunity.

  Yours faithfully,

  Ben E Factor.

  The second letter was from Mr Factor’s solicitor.

  Dear Mr Sunn,

  Our client has instructed us to inform you that the resources listed in the accompanying satchel listed in Appendix A, are available for your immediate use, subject to the Terms and Conditions listed in Appendix B. It is our client’s hope that you accept the resources available, and that the terms and conditions allow you to readily use them to your advantage.

  Prefacing Appendix A was the following note.

  All properties listed below are currently unencumbered and 100% owned by me through one of my companies. For each property, a video summary is contained in the accompanying USB drive.

  Within the Terms and Conditions was the following:

  For each property, I would like you to prepare a preliminary plan to determine

  its suitability to be retained and developed along whatever lines you envisage to further society, or

  its suitability for being liquidated to seek more appropriate property, or cash investment elsewhere in your projects.