Ash Island Read online

  ‘My father,’ Harry says.

  ‘He came up here with your mother, four years ago. He stood on this spot, and walked through the forest, and talked to the elders, and then went back to Sydney to study precedents and case law, talk to geologists and mining experts, and get the best possible financial advice on the likely outcomes. He was open-minded, impartial.’

  Harry nods.

  ‘Listening to every point of view, asking sensible questions, hosing down the more furious arguments. The people loved him, and felt that they could trust him to find the right answer. Your mother…she stayed in the background, but you could tell she had an opinion. Her eyes were blazing.

  ‘So come June of that year, your father told us that he was coming up to Armidale on Supreme Court business and wanted to meet with the land council again to go over some details. It all had to be very confidential. We decided to hold the meeting at Kramfors, and have your parents spend the night there. That evening, the twenty-fifth, your father told the council that he’d almost completed his final report. He was going to present it to them on his return from Armidale early in July.’ Amber pauses, with an apologetic shrug. ‘Well, the next morning he and your mother were dead. And no trace of a report has ever been found.’

  She steps closer, lowering her voice to a hoarse whisper. ‘The last thing your mother said to me as they drove off that morning was, “Don’t worry, Amber, I wouldn’t be calling in the removalists any time soon.”’ Another pause. ‘That’s why they died, Harry. The stakes were too high.’

  ‘You’re saying your uncle had them killed?’

  ‘What other explanation is there?’

  ‘Why didn’t you or the land council report this to the police? Or bring it up at the inquest?’

  ‘The council were scared. They didn’t want to accuse NRL of something like that unless there was evidence it was something other than an accident, and the police didn’t come up with any. Also, they still hoped they could get hold of your father’s report and use it anyway, follow his advice. They hired private detectives, searched for it everywhere. Found nothing.’

  ‘Everywhere? What do you mean?’

  ‘His law office, his study at home…’

  ‘What? They broke into our house?’

  She dips her head, embarrassed. ‘Yes, I believe so.’

  He thinks back to the chaos of those days after the crash, his parents’ funeral to be dealt with—a state funeral no less—and Jenny in hospital. He’d hardly been home.

  ‘It wasn’t malicious, Harry. They were desperate.’

  ‘So how do things stand now?’

  ‘They were in limbo for a while. Then NRL increased the pressure, upped their offer a bit. There were new elections for the land council, and now it looks as if they’re going to agree to Konrad’s terms.

  ‘Harry, I’m ashamed of what my family has become, what they’re planning to do. I want to stop Konrad. And you want justice for your parents and for Jenny. We both want the same thing.’

  ‘So what are you suggesting?’

  She grips his arm. ‘I’m a member of the NRL board. Access to company documents, confidential internal information, family trust accounts. You’re a police officer, with all those resources behind you. The evidence that’ll destroy Konrad is out there. Corrupt deals with politicians, bribery, extortion. I mean, I’ve had employees of the family companies come to me over the years. They’ve seen things, they’ve been concerned. I always felt helpless, unsure what to do about it. But if we work together, we can do it. I’m sure of that.’

  He steps away from the sweaty heat of her anger, looks out across the treetops to the bald mountain, thinking.

  Finally he says, ‘Okay.’

  ‘Great!’ She takes a deep breath. ‘Well, that’s wonderful. All I want is justice, Harry, you can see that.’

  He says nothing.

  ‘Come on. I’ll give you lunch. There’s someone I want you to meet.’

  46

  First thing, Kelly sits down with her small team to review progress. She is encouraged. Matthew has been gathering information on Ozdevco and found that Nordlund Investments has a direct stake in Mansur’s company with Konrad Nordlund sitting on the Ozdevco board. He gives Kelly a comprehensive company profile. Kelly herself has re-established contacts from her previous research and put together a file of some of the rough, possibly illegal, practices alleged on Mansur’s previous developments.

  Hannah meanwhile has information on Phoenix Square, including the draft of publicity material that Ozdevco’s letting agents have been preparing for an extensive marketing campaign in the Times’ own property section.

  On the strength of this Kelly decides on a direct approach. She arranges an interview later in the morning at Ozdevco’s head office. She and Hannah are received at the Gipps Tower offices by the projects director and the marketing manager, Chad and Dakoda, both young, attractive and strikingly fresh, as if they’ve just stepped out of a shower gel ad.

  ‘Thank you for seeing us at such short notice.’

  ‘Pleasure,’ Chad beams and leads them to a conference room.

  ‘Malcolm in your property section has been just fantastic,’ Dakoda enthuses.

  They exchange business cards and sit down. Coffees are ordered.

  Kelly asks if they could give them an overview of the Phoenix Square project for an article they’re planning.

  ‘Fantastic,’ Dakoda says. Chad launches into a list of statistics: numbers of square metres, floors, apartments, retail units, parking spaces; the volume of concrete measured in Olympic swimming pools. Dakoda backs this up with Powerpoint, bringing up ravishing animations of the new development on a giant screen. Towers glow against a gorgeous sunset; views from the apartments encompass vast urban panoramas.

  Kelly is finding their glib, sunny self-confidence very annoying. ‘It’s amazing what computers can do now, isn’t it?’ she says, sounding more sour than she intended. ‘And it all seems to have happened so quickly.’

  ‘We’ve been thinking about this project for some time,’ Chad says. ‘It’s been a personal priority for our MD.’

  ‘That’s Maram Mansur, isn’t it? Would it be possible to meet him?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. He’s overseas at the moment, working on some important international projects.’

  ‘Maybe we could speak to him by video link?’

  The two exchange a look, shake their heads. ‘Not very easy at present. Let’s see how we go.’

  ‘Konrad Nordlund is on your board, isn’t he? Is he taking a personal interest in the project?’

  ‘I’m sure he is.’

  ‘Is he a personal friend of Mr Mansur?’

  A sudden frown. ‘I really couldn’t say. Let’s concentrate on Phoenix Square, shall we?’

  ‘Okay. You actually submitted a development application for the project only in August, soon after the problems in Crucifixion Creek came to a head. You seem to have got your approvals remarkably quickly.’

  ‘Mm. The development was deemed sufficiently important to be assessed as a State Significant Project, and approved directly by the Minister for Infrastructure and Planning and his department, rather than the local council.’

  ‘So there were no objections?’

  ‘Well frankly, just between us, everyone was desperate to see the end of the old Crucifixion Creek. Everyone appreciated that this was a new beginning, a wiping of the slate.’

  ‘A wiping of the slate,’ Kelly repeats. ‘That’s a good title. But you haven’t been so lucky on some of Ozdevco’s other projects, have you? Some of them have been quite controversial.’

  ‘DISE.’ The projects director grins, his teeth alarmingly white.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Do It Somewhere Else. It’s the same everywhere. We all want progress and fantastic new projects, just not near us.’

  ‘There were allegations of intimidation and vandalism of neighbouring properties on your Central Coast development. The po
lice were involved, yes?’

  ‘I don’t think…’

  ‘And on the Gold Coast there were allegations of corrupt payments to the local council.’

  ‘I’m not sure where you’re going with this. Ozdevco Properties is a highly respected company with the highest ethical standards. You…’

  ‘Mr Mansur was a close friend of Derryn Oldfield, the former police minister, who committed suicide rather than face trial for his involvement in the Crucifixion Creek crime ring. Now Mr Mansur’s company is redeveloping the site. Is he overseas to avoid being questioned about his role in that scandal?’

  Chad and Dakoda stare at Kelly, then at each other. The projects manager leans forward slowly and picks up the business cards. He reads them for a moment, then takes out his phone and begins to tap.

  Kelly says, ‘We just need clarification…’

  But Chad holds up a hand at her without raising his eyes from the screen. ‘Kelly Pool,’ he says, ‘crime reporter. You’ve come here on false pretences, haven’t you? You’d better leave.’

  ‘Look, I don’t think you can sweep those past events under the carpet. A few answers…’

  ‘I’ll call security, shall I?’

  ‘Okay, okay. We’re going.’

  He escorts them to the front door and closes it firmly after them. As they wait at the lift, Kelly turns to Hannah, trying to think of something funny to say. Hannah looks as if she’d rather be somewhere else.

  When they get back to the office Kelly unpacks her bag at her desk, then goes downstairs to buy a ham roll from the sandwich shop around the corner. When she returns, she sees Catherine Meiklejohn deep in conversation with Hannah.

  They turn to look at Kelly, then the editor comes over to her. ‘My office, Kelly.’

  ‘Close the door. I’ve just been given a grilling by marketing, who wanted to know how come one of my reporters has caused Ozdevco Properties to cancel a major advertising campaign they were planning in the Times. Apparently they’re going to the Herald now. And Malcolm is livid. He’s a personal friend of their projects manager, who claims you were offensive, aggressive and determined to portray his company as a cowboy developer.’ She pauses. ‘So what’s your story?’

  Kelly blusters. She wants to be cool and rational but she can’t. ‘I may have been…robust in my questions, Catherine, but they were just full of bland ad-speak crap, and there’s something sick about what’s going on at Crucifixion Creek. The speed they’re building those towers, like glossy tombstones on the graves of murdered children…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’s a conspiracy!’ Kelly plunges desperately on. ‘Ozdevco’s CEO is in hiding overseas from the police, and the woman who was in control of those stolen children is being sheltered by the Nordlund family, who are investors in Ozdevco…’

  ‘Stop, stop! Did you say Nordlund? Konrad Nordlund?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘And…what? You’re saying he was involved with Crucifixion Creek?’

  ‘Well…possibly, yes, very possibly.’

  ‘You’ve got evidence of that?’

  ‘Not explicitly, not yet…’

  ‘Do you read the paper? Our paper? The business section?’

  ‘Not really, but…’

  ‘Last month Konrad Nordlund bought a thirteen per cent stake in the Times. He now sits on our board.’

  ‘Oh…no, I didn’t know that…But…’

  Catherine’s face closes down. ‘You haven’t got over what happened to you, have you, Kelly? I shouldn’t have let you go and do that interview without finding out what was on your mind.’

  She sighs, takes a deep breath. ‘I’ve told Hannah to prepare a general interest piece on Phoenix Square. She says she’s got enough material to do that. It’ll go out under both your names. She may do a follow-up spread for the Saturday magazine. I want you to write a letter to the Ozdevco managers you interviewed, unreservedly apologising for any misunderstanding and telling them that you had absolutely no intention of casting doubt on the integrity of their company or its owners. Let me see it before you send it. Then I want you to go on medical leave, and I want you to get help. Our health fund offers psychiatric services. I’ll be sending them a report. Do you understand all that, Kelly?’

  She feels her face glowing pink, her stomach churning, her throat tight with anger and mortification.

  ‘Yes,’ she croaks.

  47

  The helicopter drops them on the grass landing strip behind the homestead. Amber leads Harry into the house through the rear porch, full of boots and wet-weather gear, pungent with animal smells.

  ‘Bathroom’s over there if you want to freshen up, Harry. I’ll be in the kitchen. Beef sandwich okay?’

  ‘Perfect.’

  The bathroom fittings must be original, from when Axel Nordlund, the Swedish patriarch, built the place in 1900. Harry notices cracked tiles, damp stains, signs of age and neglect. It doesn’t look as if Konrad Nordlund has spent any of his millions on the family home.

  He finds Amber buttering bread in a kitchen big enough to cater banquets, with ranks of copper pots hanging from hooks.

  ‘Want to carve?’ She points to a huge joint of beef lying on the bench. He gets to work with an antique horn-handled knife when a voice calls, ‘Hello?’ from the hallway.

  ‘In here, Luke,’ Amber cries, and a good-looking young man comes in. Harry notices how Amber’s face lights up. ‘Harry, this is my friend Luke Santini, Harry Belltree.’

  They shake hands.

  ‘Harry and I have had a really good talk,’ she says.

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘Harry really understands where we’re coming from.’

  We? Harry thinks. She’s trying too hard. He wonders if they’ve had a disagreement about this. ‘Where do you fit in, Luke?’ he says. Luke’s dressed in jeans and T-shirt, ankle boots. His hand is soft in Harry’s grip. ‘You work with the horses?’

  Amber says quickly, ‘Oh no, Luke’s a city boy. Melbourne. He comes up here to unwind, don’t you?’ She slips her hand under his arm. ‘Where’s Dylan?’

  ‘I left him with the others in the stable,’ Luke says. ‘He wants to have lunch with them.’

  ‘Okay.’ She sounds reluctant, as if that wasn’t what they’d agreed. ‘Well, we’re just making sandwiches. How about a glass of wine?’

  Luke nods and goes off while Amber stacks the sandwiches on a plate and leads Harry out to the veranda. They sit on cane chairs at a table with a view of the mountain. Luke appears with a bottle and glasses.

  ‘Luke’s heard all about you, Harry,’ Amber says. ‘What happened to your parents. Luke works in environmental education. For Sustain, the international foundation? Anyway, he’s very concerned about what’s happening up here. Aren’t you, love?’ She’s trying to prompt him out of his silence, but he appears to dislike the word.

  ‘Mm,’ he says after a pause. ‘Obviously. Anyone would be. You’re a police officer?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Amber cuts in quickly, ‘Harry’s said he’ll help us, Luke. We’ll help each other.’

  ‘Hard to see how.’ He reaches for a sandwich and takes a bite.

  ‘Well, we’ve discussed it. Harry can help us prove Konrad’s been corrupt in his dealings with the state…’

  ‘What, you’re an expert in fraud cases, are you, Harry? Finance specialist? Corporate watchdog?’ He reaches for the bottle of wine. His accent is hard to place. Almost American; not quite.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Homicide, that’s your thing, isn’t it? Human, not environmental.’ He thumps the bottle down and makes an exasperated snort. ‘Think I’ll pass on lunch.’ He gets to his feet and walks away.

  ‘Luke!’ Amber jumps to her feet but he doesn’t pause.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She sinks back into her chair. ‘He can be a bit intense.’

  ‘Doesn’t like the fact I’m a cop? I get that a lot.’

  ‘Yes, well, don’t worry abo
ut him. I want to work with you.’

  ‘Okay. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll follow up any information you can give me, and I’ll be discreet.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘How’s that staff member of yours doing, who had the accident?’

  ‘Craig? Oh, he’s still in hospital, the John Hunter. Karen, his wife, phoned me last night. They’ll keep him there for a while, till he’s stabilised. He’ll lose the sight in one eye, I’m afraid.’

  ‘You said they were here the night my parents stayed. Did Karen meet them?’

  ‘I suppose…yes, she must have. She cooked a meal for us, and made up the rooms. Yes, I remember your father talking to her. She’s a brilliant cook. I didn’t realise how much I depended on her until she and Craig left.’

  ‘They left you?’

  ‘For a while, to look after Karen’s sick mother in Sydney. Why, is it important?’

  ‘Oh, I was just wondering if my father might have said something to her when they were here. Maybe I should talk to her.’

  ‘Yes, fine. I’ll give you her number.’

  When they’ve finished their sandwiches, Amber takes him back out to the waiting helicopter. As it rises up into the air Harry watches Amber’s diminishing figure hurrying back to the house.

  They pass over the forest and out across the farmlands around Gloucester and Harry turns to the pilot. ‘How long you been doing this?’

  ‘Got my licence six years ago, been working for Nordlund Pastoral four years.’

  ‘What, ferrying Amber around?’

  ‘Yeah, that. Bringing in guests and so on. They have cattle leases out west, and I go out there mustering sometimes. Little R44 chopper. That’s real flying.’ He laughs.

  ‘I can imagine. Amber’s good to work for?’

  The pilot turns to give Harry a warning look. ‘She’s me boss, mate. Yeah, she’s good. Had some tough breaks.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  But he doesn’t elaborate.

  ‘Dylan seems like a smart kid.’

  ‘Yeah. Great little fella. Wants me to teach him how to fly. Poor kid’s got a crook leg, though. Hip dysplasia, due for some more treatment soon. I’ll be flying him down to the hospital next week.’