Smoking Gun (Adam Cartwright Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

It was Friday, the following week, when Gregory Taylor rang. After exchanging greetings he said, “Adam, I’ve been asked by Ewan Ryan to bring you up to date with events related to the Crime and Corruption Commission. I expect that you haven’t heard back from the whistleblowers yet. Well, even though their initial round of interrogations has only just been completed, the Commission has already confirmed that they will not be prosecuted. They should be back at work on Monday.”

I was relieved. “Good. Is anything decided about prosecution of others?”

“Yes. The paperwork is being finalised for several prosecutions. The expectation is that charges will be laid by Christmas and the trials commence about the middle of next year. I can’t give you the details but Toni Swan has told me to tell you that you can ring her if you have any questions. She will be happy to tell you what she can.”

At least some progress has been made. “What about witness protection for the whistleblowers?”

“Perhaps there will be no need. They may not be called to give evidence, even though the information that they have provided has been invaluable. They helped identify two major players who, when threatened with prosecution, and shown the evidence, wanted to negotiate a deal. Both have now been granted witness protection and have fingered a number of big time bad guys. It looks like a big win for the Commission.”

“What about the attempts on my life?”

“No news. No information received yet that might link the Comancheros to the incidents.”

It was not unexpected, but still frustrating, to be no nearer an answer. Someone out there has me in their sights and I don’t know who. Or why.”

***

That afternoon Jack Gilmore and I were standing on Lookout Hill, inspecting work in progress on excavation of the cutting to create a storm water channel. A team of drillers were busily engaged setting up for another blast.

In a perfect world the cutting would have been completed by the end of November as the chances of heavy rain would double in December and double again in January. Records showed that peak rainfall could be expected from January to March. December and April had half that peak and November and May half of that again. That being so I saw that completion of the cutting before December was highly desirable but, if that wasn’t achieved, then completion before January was absolutely essential. Even so there was always the chance of a heavy storm in November, particularly this year that was forecast to have an early wet season.

I could not afford to buy in the necessary resources for the cutting to be finished earlier as it was not an approved project. I had buried the costs to date by allocating the costs to the supply of concrete aggregate and relying on the mining contractors when they had time available. Total costs for the cutting were still below the budget for the supply of concrete aggregate so no questions had been asked so far. But that might not last too much longer and I needed things to go well if I was to complete the cutting without exceeding the budget for the supply of concrete aggregate. 

Jack and I both believed that the designed stormwater drainage system was inadequate and that the processing plant, and the open pit, would be at risk of flooding if a major rainstorm occurred. But we both recognised that I had been ordered to construct it exactly as it had been designed.

However, while it had been implied that I should desist from excavating the cutting to form a storm water channel as I had proposed, I had not been specifically ordered to stop work on it. Driven by a belief that I knew best, I had committed to a career-risking plan to go ahead with the cutting anyway. I needed a quarry to supply concrete aggregate and road building material so I decided to make use of the material excavated from the cutting.

Developing a long thin quarry was not the most economical method of getting concrete aggregate but it was still much cheaper than if I had simply purchased it from the quarry owned by the Mareeba Shire Council.

My decision to excavate the cutting could work out one of two different ways. First, there might be a major rainstorm and the cutting saves the day. If that happens then there should be no adverse repercussions. I might even get thanked. Second, there might not be any major rainstorm before Gibson Construction hand over the processing plant etc and the need for the cutting would not be proven. In that case there could be serious repercussions especially if the budget to supply concrete aggregate was exceeded.

In any case my refusal to accept his directions might go badly with the Project Manager. In fact I was sure of it. Even if there was a major rain storm and the cutting did save the day I might still get a rap over the knuckles. But whether a major rain storm does or does not arrive before the project is completed I was confident that the cutting was the best long term drainage option.

Jack agreed with me and had done all he could to help. He had been allocating drillers and contract miners whenever possible without endangering achievement of his primary objective. He had to have the open pit developed and ready to deliver ore to the processing plant when commissioning commenced in February.

Looking down at the drillers from Lookout Hill, Jack said, “Sorry, Adam, but the drillers need to be back in the open pit first thing tomorrow morning. They could be busy there for the next two weeks at least.”

I fully appreciated the predicament that he was in. But it was not unexpected and I said, “That’s okay. It looks like there’ll be enough drilling completed by tonight to allow blasting and removal to continue. What’s your best guess as to when the cutting will be finished?”

“There’s only about three weeks of work left but I need the men and equipment in the open pit. Based on their availability to work here I think that we’ll do well to complete the cutting in six to seven weeks. I think that the best that we can do is to target finishing by Christmas. Sorry, but that’s about as good as I can do.”

I grinned wryly and clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, thanks for the heads-up. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” We both knew that it was not unusual to have a heavy rain storm before Christmas. It was almost like we were planning to fail.

As we walked back down the hill I put all thoughts of the storm water cutting on the back burner. Completion of the cutting was in excellent hands and I had other, more immediate matters, to address.

***

Every day on a construction site like Red Rock saw a new crisis. Sometimes more than one. Today it was a complaint by a subcontractor responsible for installing some pumps and electric motors in the Mill building. He claimed that the foundation holding down bolts did not fit the pumps and motors that he has supplied and had to install. It was late on a Friday afternoon and I had just been told of the problem and was on my way to check it out.

When I arrived at the Mill building I heard the subcontractor before I saw him. He was in a rage and hurling expletives around like confetti. Nervously facing him was one of my mechanical engineers, Derek Crowther. Derek was a full time Gibson Construction employee who was normally based in Brisbane. A well qualified engineer he had only been on site for a couple of weeks and had no field experience before this posting. He was accustomed to working in a clean air conditioned environment and certainly not used to an angry subcontractor shouting obscenities at him. He didn’t look like he was handling this particular experience well.

As I approached I recognised the subcontractor, his name was Bill Murray. He was tall with a strong but not overweight physique. And had a very loud voice. Being at least ten centimetres taller than Derek Crowther he was standing face to face with Crowther, glaring down at him in an effort to intimidate the engineer. And making a very good job of it. Bill Murray was a bully and Derek Crowther didn’t know how to handle the situation.

“What’s the problem?” I asked in an amiable tone of voice.

Bill Murray had not been aware of my approach and hadn’t heard my opening gambit. Turning to look at me he exclaimed in an angry tone. “What the bloody hell do you want? What’s it got to do with you?”

I smiled disarmingly and repeated my earlier question. “What’s the problem?”

Belatedly he recognised me and lowered his voice slightly. “I’ll tell you what the matter is.” Indicating a man standing nearby, presumably an employee of his, he said, “We’ve come out here today to unpack the pumps and motors and check the foundations and holding down bolts. And what did I find. They are all wrong. None of them fit. There’s been a complete balls-up. I am going to claim for lost time and extra costs. I won’t be able to bring my team out on Monday as planned and the schedule goes to hell.”

I stared at him for a few moments, pondering my next move. His attitude and tone of voice annoyed me. If there was a problem it hadn’t been caused by Derek Crowther. There was no justification for Bill Murray to be so belligerent. “Okay. There’s a problem. But there’s no need to have a tantrum.” He started to respond angrily but I held up a hand to silence him. “You have had your say. Just be quiet for a few minutes while we sort it out.” Turning to Derek Crowther I nodded my head to the side and said, “Derek, let’s walk over there and talk about it.”

After walking a short distance to be out of earshot of the still fuming subcontractor I said, “Okay. Derek, what’s the story?”

“He’s right. The holding down bolts do not fit the pump and motor base plates. I have checked, the foundations have been constructed correctly according to the plans.”

He paused so I prompted him. “And…”

“And the base plates are consistent with the equipment drawings. I have checked those too.”

I felt it necessary to prompt him again. “What have you done so far?”

“I’ve checked with the design office in Brisbane. They have found that someone forgot to advise a change of equipment selection to the section drawing up the foundations. It’s been reported to Tom Barton. We’ll find out who is responsible on Monday.”

“But what good will that do us. What will you actually do to fix this problem?”

He then made the mistake of not thinking before he spoke. “But, it’s not our mistake…” His voice trailed off as he saw me pursing my lips and shaking my head.

“So, my question still is; what will you do to fix this mistake?”

“I… I don’t know.”

I held up a hand and said, “Derek, wait a minute.” Turning towards Bill Murray I called out. “Mister Murray, this will be sorted out over the weekend. It will be ready for you to proceed without any delay when you arrive with your team on Monday.”

Muttering something indecipherable but no doubt full of expletives, he left. His employee departed with him.

“Okay Derek, how do you propose to fix this?”

He hesitated before asking, “What do you suggest?”

“I suggest that you work something out and tell me what you intend to do.”

For a brief moment I thought that he was going to surrender without even trying. But he caught himself in time and said, “Well, since you said that the foundations would be ready on Monday morning then we can’t break out the existing concrete and recast the foundations. If we did that we’d have to wait a couple of weeks for the concrete to set sufficiently.” Looking at me for confirmation, he said, “Right?”

I nodded.

“Well, we can’t re-drill the base plate on which the pumps and motors are already mounted and connected. So we…” Suddenly his eyes brightened and his rate of speech increased excitedly. “We can make new base plates to suit the existing foundation bolts and drill the upper flanges of the new base plates to suit the base plates connected to the pump and motor assemblies. It will raise all the pumps and motors by, say, 15 centimetres. But that shouldn’t be a problem.” Looking at me tentatively he asked, “What do you think?”

I smiled. “I think that it sounds like a plan. You have the rest of today plus the weekend to get it done. Can you do it?”

He grinned confidently. “I sure can. You can count on me.”

Clapping him on the shoulder I said, “Good man! You’d best get going. Keep me informed if there are any hiccups.

I didn’t know if Derek had realised it yet but I did not risk anything by telling Bill Murray to come as planned on Monday. If he turns up and has to wait then we have to pay him and his men for their lost time. But if he doesn’t come on Monday, because we weren’t ready, then he will bill us for his time anyway. So he may as well come on Monday as then we at least have a chance to avoid any extra costs.

***

The first serious threat of a heavy rain storm came six weeks later. An atmospheric low pressure cell had been reported to be forming in the Coral Sea a few days earlier. But, instead of following the usual weather pattern for this time of year and moving south eastwards to cross the coast and weaken to a low category storm, it had been stationary for several days. Its already low central atmospheric pressure dropping steadily and the clockwise rotation of the circulating winds accelerating. By ten a.m. on Friday, December 18
th
it had been classified as a Category Five cyclone and named Abby.

The TV meteorologists were now forecasting that Abby would cross the coast somewhere near Cairns over the weekend with wind speeds of more than 120 kilometres per hour. But that was not all, they estimated a fifty percent probability that it would continue inland and drench the Atherton Tablelands albeit with slightly reduced winds. There was little doubt that Red Rock was in its sights.

It was clearly time for me to take all possible steps to prevent damage to the construction site. That meant that all work should cease where possible and resources diverted to secure buildings and loose materials. Top of the priorities was the completion of the cutting to create a storm water discharge channel.

By ten thirty I had a group of around forty gathered in the dining room. All of the engineers and inspectors were present together with the foremen and leading hands. Jack Gilmore was also there with his staff and several of the contract miner’s foremen.

Standing at the centre of a semi circle of dining tables at which the men were seated I spelt out the threat posed by Abby and then addressed things that needed to be done. “First, there is a fifty percent chance that we will suffer strong winds and very heavy rain on Sunday through Monday. There is an even higher probability that Cairns will be struck by a cyclone. Cyclone Abby. So if anyone wants to return to Cairns to be with their family and protect their home then they are free to go. We will have extra flights from four o’clock today as required. Check with your people and let them know that they will need to give their names to the Admin Manager by two o’clock if they want to be on a flight.”

I paused and looked around. “The immediate top priority for most of you is to secure loose materials and equipment. Not just around the construction site but the accommodation and administration areas too. I am going to rely on you all to work together and use your initiative.”

I stopped talking briefly and gestured towards Jack Gilmore and his group of miners. “Jack and I fear that the stormwater drainage pipe that runs through the processing area will not be adequate if the expected rainfall is as intense as forecast on Sunday. We believe that the top priority for Jack and his miners over the next few days is to complete the cutting that extends from the aggregate quarry. If we don’t divert the storm water runoff away from the site then we risk flooding the construction site and the open pit as well. If that happens then it will be a catastrophe. The accommodation and administration areas might also get flooded if the rainfall continues for long enough. There is a possibility that we might be able to rig up something to help bypass some of the stormwater around the processing plant. Derek I’d like you to handle that, so please wait back when I finish here so that I can talk to you about it. One thing for you all to remember, if Jack or Derek ask you for help then you should help them in any way possible. But before you scatter to get on with securing the site. I’d like you to hear what Jack and his guys are up against.”

At that point Jack stood up and started speaking. He got straight to the point. “We have about twenty metres to go. So far we have averaged almost five metres per day when we have had equipment available. The storm, if it does reach here, will probably be here sometime between tomorrow night and Sunday morning. That is thirty hours at the earliest and forty eight hours at the latest.  If we are going to have the channel open in even forty eight hours then we have to do something different as it won’t be as straightforward as before. If it starts to rain we won’t be able to have excavating equipment and trucks in the cutting as we have before. So the only chance for us to get the channel open in time is to start blasting back from the exit into the gully towards the excavated section of the cutting. We are going to over-blast it metre by metre. We won’t be able to get into the cutting to excavate the material after blasting, so we are going to attempt the impossible and blast the rock out into the gully. Hopefully we can make a breakthrough and if the storm water floods are strong enough then the water will flush the rock pieces clear of the cutting.”

One of the foremen called out. “Why are you trying to do all this at the last minute? Why wasn’t it done months ago?”

When Jack glanced at me I nodded. Looking back at the questioner, he replied, “Because Adam couldn’t get approval to do so. He has been risking his career to do what he thinks is right and have me carry out the work under the radar. If he hadn’t gone out on a limb then we wouldn’t even have this chance. I hope to God that we don’t get the rainfall that’s been forecast because I can’t guarantee that we will succeed and complete the cutting in time. You must warn everyone not to enter the area between the buildings and the cutting alignment. We have put up barricades and warning signs at the access points through the barricades. The five minute pre-detonation siren, imminent blast siren, and the all-clear siren will be described on the warning signs. We have a one man steel-lined blasting shelter located by each of the access points. It will be manned from five minutes before blasting until the all-clear siren is sounded.”

It was now my turn to say something again. I needed to wind up the gathering and get them all moving. “We will only succeed if we work together and create synergy. I will leave it to you all here to agree on areas of responsibility and see that nothing slips through the cracks. If this storm does eventuate then I expect that we will all be wet, cold, muddy and very tired before it is over. Even so I will be disappointed if I see any of you standing with your hands on your hips watching others working when they could do with a helping hand. I would like to remind you of the events more than 200 years ago when the Endeavour ran aground on the reef not far from here at Cooktown. The crew spent two days desperately pumping to keep their ship afloat. All the officers, including Lieutenant James Cook, worked their full share of shifts on the pumps. Well, today at Red Rock we are also all in the same boat. We all need to share the hard work needed to save us.” As I talked I was scanning the crowd assessing how my words were being received. They were all paying attention and seemed to be taking what I had to say seriously. “Good! You should get to where you should be and do what you need to do. Do not hesitate to let me know if you encounter any problems that you can’t solve on your own. Best of luck to you all. Derek, can I talk to you now.”

Instead of the dining room being immediately emptied it was filled with a buzz of conversation as the men coalesced into groups and started making plans. There was a sense of urgency in the air. As I stood there watching them, Derek Crowther walked over to stand next to me. “Yes, boss what do you have in mind?”

Derek had been a revelation during the past six weeks since the problem with the foundation bolts for the pumps and motors. He had proved himself to be resourceful and had developed a ‘can do’ attitude. All he had needed was to realise what was expected of him. “Derek, it’s a bit of a long shot but I reckon that we could set up a couple of air lifts to augment the storm water drain by the processing plant. It probably won’t save the day but it might just buy us enough time to finish the cutting.”

“Why don’t we scrounge up some pumps and use them? They have some big pumps in the open pit.”

I shook my head. “No good. I’ve already spoken to Jack Gilmore about those pumps, They’re needed to protect the open cut. That’s his responsibility and those are his pumps. What I had in mind was to use a few hundred metres of the three hundred millimetre plastic pipe that’s been brought in for the tailings dam and a compressor from the foundation excavation gang.”

Derek looked a bit sheepish and said, “I hate to admit it but I don’t know anything about an airlift, or how it works.”

I smiled encouragingly. “Don’t worry. By the end of this exercise you’ll be an expert. Actually it’s very simple. Imagine a pipe suspended vertically into a pond. Let’s say the bottom of the pipe is about 4 metres below the surface and the top about two metres above it. The water will rise inside the pipe to be the same level as the surface of the pond. Right?”

Derek nodded, not yet aware of where this was going, so I continued. “Now consider what happens if you insert an air hose into the bottom of the pipe and pump air into the pipe. What will happen?”

“The air will bubble up through the water in the pipe…”

His voice tailed off at that point as he thought about what I had said, so I gave him a hint. “That means that you will have a mixture of air and water in the pipe. A mixture that is less dense than just water on its own.”

He finally cottoned on. “The water mixture will rise up and flow out of the top of the pipe. In this case, you will have lifted water by two metres. Wow!”

“Right! Also, the height that you can lift the water, will depend on the depth that the pipe inlet is below the surface of the pond.  The flow rate will depend on the rate that air is pumped in and the diameter of the pipe.”

“Good! I’ve got it. So you think that we could use those lengths of plastic pipe and the compressor to create two air lifts.”

“I don’t see why not. You will need to connect the ten metre lengths of pipe together. You’ll probably need a length of about three hundred metres for each air lift. Then you will have to dig a hole at least three to four metres deep to allow the stormwater to be collected in a pond from which the stormwater will be airlifted and discharged through the plastic pipelines. Do you think that you can handle it?”

Derek grinned. “I’ve got it, boss. Leave it to me.” Looking around he saw Tony Payne busy talking to several others in a small group. “I’ll get Tony to work with me on it.”

As he turned to leave I said, “Good choice. I’ll check with you later.”

As I watched him go I wondered again if the air lifts could really make a difference. But things could soon be desperate and we needed to try anything that might work. Even if it only bought us some extra time before the site was flooded it would be worth doing.

***

Later that morning I drove across to check on progress at the cutting. As I expected I had to use an access point through a barricade near the processing plant. There was a large warning sign describing the various blast warning sirens as Jack Gilmore had explained. Next to the sign, facing away from the cutting, was a cubicle rather like a guardsman’s box at Windsor Castle. As I got out of my vehicle Jack greeted me with a tight grin. “Good timing. We are about to have our first over-blast. This should be the easy one, it just has to displace the rock a few metres into the gulley. The next metre has already been drilled. We should have it loaded and ready to blast by say, one, o’clock. That will have to throw the rock further so we will load the holes with progressively more explosives for each successive row. If you’d like to wait a few minutes the five minute warning siren will sound and the first row of drill holes will be detonated.”

I looked back towards the processing plant trying to estimate the distance. Jack saw me looking thoughtful and laughed. “Don’t worry Adam. It’s almost five hundred metres to the barricade and the direction of the blast is angled away from the buildings. We’ll have a man in the blast shelter cubicle by the access point that you came through. I reckon in about ten minutes you’ll hear a very big bang.”

I looked around for a safe spot from which to watch the blast. “Where will you take shelter from the explosion?”

“We are all going to retreat to Lookout Hill. You should join us. I did so and had a panoramic view of the work on the cutting.”

About ten minutes later, five minutes after the pre-detonation siren sounded, the imminent blast siren sounded followed thirty seconds later by a ground-shaking blast. A cloud of dust and small rocks was thrown into the air and a slice of the cliff seemed to be thrown forward into the gulley.

As soon as the all-clear siren was sounded I returned with the others to inspect what had been achieved. A four metre deep by five metres wide by one metre long section had been removed from the cliff face. Another nineteen of those and the cutting would be complete. Unfortunately each succeeding one metre section removed would become more difficult as an increasing quantity of rocky debris would remain in the cutting. But at least it was a start.

***

When I returned at five o’clock to check on progress I found that they had exceeded their own schedule. Another six sections had been blasted. Another three were planned before blasting ceased at eight o’clock. The discharge end section of the cutting was taking shape, reaching back towards the quarry. To me the gap between the two sections looked like there was barely eleven metres remaining to be excavated.

Most of the newly blasted cutting was clear of small rubble but there were a number of large loose pieces of rock remaining that could impede the flow of storm water. Three men were using pneumatic rock drills to prepare for re-blasting in an attempt to shatter them into smaller pieces that might get swept away later by the storm water. The job of ‘popping’ the large rocks, as it was called in the quarry industry, was a tough job in daylight. But at night, lit by floodlights and balancing precariously with an unstable footing, handling the heavy drills was a back-breaking and hazardous task. The workers currently on duty had been working since eight o’clock the previous evening, with the only a short respite of about ten minutes when they had to clear the area for a blast.