Blood Secret (26 page)

The conversation with James about withdrawing a portion of his profit share didn't go well. It was six months earlier than they'd budgeted for and it prompted one of those weird James moments when you'd swear he was hearing it in another language and needed to get in a translator. His face went blank and his lips almost disappeared in the effort of whatever he was stewing on.

Max had folded his arms and waited it out, then listened to James huff and puff about how a business wasn't a piggy bank, that it was irresponsible to just take money willy-nilly. Max had refrained from commenting on the ‘willy-nilly' – who the hell said that? – and let him go on about schedules and structures and fore­casting. If Max took funds now, they could end up needing them down the track and surely he knew things were a little tight this year and his time would be better spent bringing in clients and not thinking about what he could waste money on.

Max had seen enough of James's patronising benders to know it was best to just let him get it off his chest but this one pissed Max off. He didn't want the money for himself. Not that James had asked. He'd just let fly like Max was the lazy, incompetent half to
the partnership.

He'd stewed on it for a while then got on the computer to have a look at the figures for himself. Maybe the business could afford to help Pav some of
the way.

James lived up to the tight-arse reputation of his account­ing profession, which was one of the reasons Max had brought him in. He kept the invoicing up to date, chased the slow payers, produced regular financial statements for review, kept an eye on the budget and made sure they didn't get ahead of themselves. They had several accounts and James shifted funds around, keeping sufficient avail­able to cover automatic deductions and making the most of interest schedules. At first Max couldn't track it properly and was tempted to ask James to explain it but, still stinging from their earlier discussion, decided against admitting
his ignorance.

It took a while but he eventually got the gist and James was right: there was profit, just not as much as Max had calculated. He told Pav he could loan him a portion of the debt – enough to satisfy his ‘supplier' in the short term, maybe let him set up some kind of payback scheme. The guy had done without the money for twenty years, surely he could wait a
while longer.

‘He's not that kind of guy,' Pav had said. It was another session in the courtyard and not one of the good ones. Pav was agitated, obviously worried, drinking a little too quickly. ‘He doesn't need the money. He wants it because I took it.'

‘What kind of idiot leaves thousands of dollars lying around a cafe, anyway?'

‘It wasn't cafe money. It came in the back door.'

Max
frowned dubiously.

‘Girls and drugs, Max. They were bad people and they did bad things. What I saw that night was enough to make me get the hell out fast.'

‘It sounds like
The Godfather
.'

‘Every country has its own version.'

‘And that guy's here?'

‘Yeah, and he brought friends.'

 

 

39

Rennie ran her eyes across the files on the screen again. ‘WTF' held bank records and invoices. Not confidential information. James would have them, there'd be copies at the office, other places too. Why would someone want to
steal them?

Maybe that wasn't what was on the USB thumb drive. She shook her head. There were more cards in the deck she was dealing now but which ones were being played? ‘Let's go back to the photos.'

‘Okay.'

She watched as Hayden clicked and shifted, the files that'd overlayed each other disappearing one by one – bullet points, figures, invoices,
bank statements.

‘Wait,' she
said again.

‘What?'

She eyed the contents list. ‘I'm not sure.'

Starting at the top, she ran her finger down the screen. The bank statements were called
bstats
, the copies were
figs
, the invoices were numbered
Inv1
through to
Inv6.
The last one in the column was
watsNys
. She tapped it. ‘What does that mean?'

‘You want me to open it again?'

‘No. We know what's in it but . . . I thought the letters must've stood for something, an abbreviation for a client, maybe. But there's nothing like that in there. It's notes about dates and bank stuff. Thoughts written down, a couple of questions. “Wats” could be short for something. But why the capital N? And what does “ys” stand for?'

The room fell silent as though her question had hit mute on the volume control. Hayden scratched his head. Rennie heard the bump of a pulse in
her ears.

‘The “N” could be “and”,' he suggested. ‘You know, like shoes 'n' socks. Dad used it on another folder –
Jobs n Stuff
.'

‘Okay, it could be wats
and
ys.' She'd said ‘wats' like ‘fats'. ‘Or maybe it's
whats.'

‘Whats and y-s.'

‘Y-s sounds like wise. As in smart.'

‘Or whys, as in why not,'
Hayden said.

‘Whats and whys. Notes about what and why.'

‘Yeah, that'd be Dad.' He grinned at her like she'd just passed an
online exam.

She didn't smile back. Hayden was right; the title had Max written all over it. The whole file did. The numbered documents, ordered like the records in the folders above the desk. The quirky ‘WTF'
and
watsNys
.

Rennie stood up, her heart thumping as cards shuf­fled about inside her mind. James said he'd traced the missing money back through the business accounts after he noticed it missing. They argued when he accused Max of taking it. She'd assumed the WTF file was James's research, that he'd given it to Max as proof that couldn't
be denied.

But what if it hadn't happened like that?

What if they argued when
Max
noticed a problem –
you're the accountant; why didn't you see it?
What if Max did some research, jotted down numbers and notes on his blotter, opened a file and wrote it all down then went to James and said, ‘What the fuck is this about?'

Hayden tipped his face up. ‘What is it?'

She didn't answer, just kept moving the cards around.

Yesterday and this morning, James had sat in here trying to break Max's password. He'd said he was hoping to find a trail to the money but maybe when Max didn't come home, James decided to get rid of Max's incriminating file.

She pulled in a sharp breath. Max was missing and his business partner, his
cousin
, had wasted precious time looking for files instead of searching for Max.

‘What?' Hayden
asked again.

‘I think . . .' She saw the hope on his face and swung away. James was his uncle; she wasn't sure she could keep venom out of an explanation. Behind her, Hayden's chair clattered and as she turned back, it was James she thought of. As she'd seen him from the doorway this morning – closing the bottom drawer in the desk. Had he searched it? Where else did he look? The folders on the shelf? The filing cabinet?

Had he come back and searched
some more?

‘Maybe Uncle James can figure it out.' Hayden pulled a phone from his pocket. ‘I'm going to ring and tell him I broke Dad's password.'

Rennie snapped out a hand like a stop sign. ‘No, wait.'

The surprise in his face made her hesitate, reminding her James and Max were cousins. They grew up together, worked together, shared blood. Normal people, normal family. Not hers. Hers had skewed her judgement, made suspicion her first,
instinctive response.

Did she have it wrong? Was she jumping
to conclusions?

For all she knew, James could give quirky names to computer documents, too. It might run in the family like a gene. Like uncontrolled fury ran in hers. She reminded herself James had driven around looking for Max in the early hours of Sunday morning, went to the office after that and out to the plant the next day. He'd found Hayden up at the point.

He'd also accused Max
of fraud.

Hayden's voice was suddenly loud and angry and in her face. ‘
What?
What is it? He's
my
dad. You're not even married to him. I should know what's going on.'

She was tempted to explain her suspicions, get another opinion but he was a kid and James was his uncle – his instinct was as skewed as hers. ‘I don't know anything, Hayden. I don't know what the bank stuff is all about. I'm just making guesses and . . .'

Her mobile rang, the sound like a buzz-saw in the tension between them. She checked the caller ID as she grabbed the phone from the desk. The name on the screen set off alarm bells in her head.

James.

And whatever doubt she'd felt in the second before was instantly overridden by gut instinct. She didn't know what had happened between him and Max, had no proof of anything, but right now suspicion felt like the
safest option.

She hung up
without answering.

‘Who was it?'
Hayden asked.

He was already mad at her. Explaining wouldn't encourage him to do what he was told, and experience was telling her he might need to. ‘I don't know. I didn't recognise the number.'

‘It might've been Dad.'

‘I don't . . .'

Another ringtone. Hayden's.

‘Hey, Uncle James. I broke Dad's password on the computer.'

The tinny, indistinct voice spilling from the earpiece made Rennie's legs itch to move. Old habits but she needed to stay this time. She glanced around the study as Hayden listened, trying to find something that would tell her what had gone on here. Today, yesterday. When Max had installed the password.

Hayden answered a question. ‘Yeah, I can get into his files. I already did.'

The sheet of paper from her pocket was on the desk. Rennie could see the columns of numbers on it. Dates, accounts, dollars. She heard her own voice from half an hour ago.
There's more than half a million dollars billed here
. James and Max argued about the money. Several hundred thousand was a lot of money.
Angry, raised voices
, Amanda had said of the argument
on Monday.

What about Friday? How angry were
they then?

There was blood in the
car park.

‘She's here, too.' Hayden paused. ‘Yeah, we looked through them together.'

James was worried about the money. He'd been here twice trying to get into Max's computer. Had he been to the office and the plant for the
same reason?

‘Oh, and someone broke into the house.' Pause. ‘No, nothing was broken.' Pause. ‘Well . . .' He glanced at Rennie. The gun?

She gave an emphatic shake of her head.

‘Renée's still checking. Do you think it's got something to do with Dad?'

She could hear James talking, didn't care what he was saying – only what he'd been up to this afternoon. He left the office a couple of hours before Rennie and Hayden were there and they didn't get home until three. Plenty of time to let himself in and work his way through the rooms. Had Max given him a key to the house sometime? Maybe he didn't need to steal Max's.

Hayden spoke again. ‘Nah. We got in the car and drove for a bit then she talked to some cop and we came back again. That's when I broke Dad's password.' Pause. ‘We've been trying to work out what some of the stuff is about. Maybe you can figure it out.'

Rennie's head snapped around. No, she didn't want him here. Not until she understood what was going on. She felt as though she was playing more than one game with the deck of cards now. Didn't know if Max's disappearance was about the money or something else. Whether the two things were related or separate. Whether Max was assaulted by someone random and James had used the opportunity to retrieve the evidence, maybe blame Max while he was at it. Or whether James had . . .

‘Hang on a minute. I'll put her on.' Hayden held the phone out to her. ‘He wants to talk to you.'

She stared at the phone, heard her sister:
We don't make contact, we don't let him close
. She slid a finger over the ‘End call' button as she took it. ‘Yes. Hello. James?' She shrugged, held the phone out. ‘We got cut off.'

She remembered other calls then. The frantic ring-around when Hayden was missing. Naomi told her James was at the office. Was he? Or was he searching the
glove box?

She thought about how she'd phoned Hayden a dozen times, how he wouldn't pick up, how ticked off she'd been than he'd chosen to talk to James instead. ‘Last night, when you were up at the point, did James tell you where he was calling from?'

‘No.'

‘How long did it take him to get there after he spoke to you?' It was at least twenty-five minutes from MineLease in Toronto to the gun emplacements at Garrigurrang Point. Around eight minutes if he'd gone no further than her carport. Somewhere in between if he was on his
way home.

‘I don't know. About two minutes.'

Rennie hesitated. ‘What do you mean two minutes? As in hardly any time at all or it was actually
two minutes
?'

‘I wasn't timing him.'

‘Yeah, but which one?'

‘Like I said – two minutes. I hung up, climbed up to the bunker, got my stuff, went up top and he was there. Two minutes.'

‘It'd take more than two minutes to walk from the gate.'

‘He didn't come from there. He used the track that goes down to the park.'

‘He walked up from the park?' That would take even longer. Ten minutes, longer in
the dark.

‘No, he drove up the walking trail.'

Rennie blinked. ‘Did he take you out that way?'

‘Yeah, he said the gate was locked.'

‘How long did it take to get down to the road?'

He shrugged. ‘Couple of minutes.'

Her heart beat hard. Cards shifted about in her head. Facts and guesses.

Two minutes up, two minutes down. He must have already been at Garrigurrang Point when he called Hayden. If he was looking for him, the obvious way in was through the gate at the top. He'd have to drive up, realise it was locked, decide not to walk in, drive back down to the park, find the trail in the dark and then call.

Why do it that way? He didn't know for sure Hayden was up there. It was a hunch based on some story about him and Max camping out. He'd spent the day driving back and forth to the plant, to the office, home and who knew where else. Why not phone when he found the gate locked instead of hunting around for the walking trail before calling? Unless . . . 

He was already up there in
the bush.

More cards. More shifting.

Arguing at the office. Blood in the car park. Trying to get into Max's computer. James told the police about the missing money. He said he agreed with Detective Duncan's suggestion that Max might have
done a runner
.

Why tell him that if Max could come back and explain it? Unless . . . 

He knew Max wasn't
coming back.

‘Oh, shit.' She pushed past Hayden into the hallway, moving on instinct.

‘
What?
'
Hayden called.

She pulled up in the corridor.

Hayden grabbed her arm. ‘Tell me!'

Tell him what? What did she
know
? That James's hunch was spot on and he found his nephew
first try.

He might have been on his way home. He might have figured Garrigurrang was worth a go, guessed the gate would be locked on a Sunday night, was familiar with the only other accessible entry and called before hustling up there. Yeah, it was possible she was making a quantum leap and coming up with the wrong answer.

But precaution and instinct had kept her alive for a
long time.

‘Where did you look for Max up at the point?'

Hayden let a sigh out through clenched teeth.

‘Come on, Hayden. You know as much as I do. I'm guessing and throwing darts. I don't know what that stuff is on the computer. I just want somewhere else to look.'

‘At the big rock and the gun emplacements.'

‘What else is up there?'

‘Just bush.'

She rolled her eyes away, thinking. ‘You said some­thing before . . . about going up to the bunker then up to the top.'

‘Yeah.'

‘What's below the bunker?'

‘The entrance to the tunnels.'

‘There are tunnels there?'

‘Yes.'

‘You looked for Max in them?'