Smoking Gun (Adam Cartwright Trilogy Book 1) (20 page)

Christine and I sat staring at each other in silence for a few moments before she smiled and said, “You are evading the question by being flippant. But you are playing me. Admit it. You are masking a genuine belief by overstating it in a joke. Aren’t you?”

Brian roared with laughter. “She’s on to you, Adam. You are going to have to lift your game.”

Kate joined in. “Christine, in the short time that I have known Adam I have come to realise that he does that a lot.”

I chuckled and responded, “But Kate, you have to admit that it is part
of
my charm.”

Brian was clearly enjoying the situation immensely and laughed. “You’re doing it again. Evading a question with a joke. Go on. Answer the question.”

I glanced at Christine. She was smiling broadly, so I said. “Okay. Yes, you are right. My comments were based on genuinely held beliefs.” I then grinned and added, “Look, when you drive up the M4 to Newcastle and you go through the deep sandstone cuttings, do you feel anything? Are you impressed in any way?”

She thought for a moment. “Yes. I do feel something even though I have never really thought about it before. Yes. I am impressed. There is something quite majestic about the perfectly aligned cuttings piercing through the hills.”

It was now my turn to ponder for a few moments before speaking. “Yes, majestic is a good description. But I have an even stronger feeling when I drive along the F4 Expressway. I see the broad smooth roadway stretching into the distance through a succession of deep cuttings as an example of man’s ability to overcome obstacles. We decided that we wanted to go from here to that distant destination and didn’t want to compromise by taking the easy route by winding around the hills and along the valleys. It went straight there. Regardless of the natural obstacles. I see the F4 as an example of mankind’s arrogance and ability to tame nature. I am inspired by it.”

An amiable silence descended on the four of us. No one seemed to be prepared to say something that would end the moment. Eventually I realized that Christine and I were staring at each other as though mesmerised. At the same moment we both remembered that we were not alone and simultaneously glanced at Brian and Kate. They had been watching Christine and me with amused looks. As soon as we looked at them, they burst into laughter.

***

It was New Years Day, seven days after I met her, when I drove back to Sydney accompanied by Christine. We were going to spend a night in Sydney and then fly up to Cairns. One night there followed by a night at the mine site and then back to Cairns for Christine to catch a flight to Sydney on Monday evening.

The past week had been one of the most uplifting that I had ever experienced. Brian and Kate’s wedding had gone off without a hitch. I hadn’t forgotten my lines during my best man’s speech and the weather had been perfect. A blue sky and warm without being uncomfortably hot.

As I had stood waving and watching the newly married couple drive off, I had been unselfconsciously holding Christine’s hand. When I glanced at her she smiled enigmatically and softly squeezed my hand. I smiled and returned the squeeze. It had been barely four days since we had met and already it seemed like we had known each other for years. But then it was not as though we were totally unknown to each other when we had first met.

The whole of the past seven days had been memorable and busy. I had eaten meals and spent time with each of my sisters’ families. Both Sue and Helen had invited Christine also and she had been happy to accompany me. Christine fitted in well and was a hit with everyone. On both occasions, as we were leaving, both Sue and Helen whispered something to the effect that I should not let this one get away. She visited my home several times and got on equally well with my parents.

The two of us also spent time wandering around town and reminiscing about our times as teenagers there. I had also met Christine’s parents and had dinner with them. I liked them and they seemed to have no objection to me courting their younger daughter.

Wellington is not a big town, it only has a population of around 4,500. But it has a daily high speed train connection and is a nice place to live. However, it does not provide the career prospects and life style choices that could be found in Sydney, three hundred and fifty kilometres to the east. There was no question that I would ever consider returning to live permanently. Neither would Brian, Kate or Christine.

Maybe it was because we had all been brought up in stable homes with harmonious family relationships that all four of us, Brian, Kate, Christine and me, had an old-fashioned respect for marriage. We didn’t have to discuss it. We just knew that we were on the same page.

Christine and I had talked for most of the five hour trip back to North Sydney. The topics of conversation were wide ranging. We got to know a lot about each other without uncovering any hint of potential discord.

***

At a point about halfway to Sydney I realised that we had been driving in silence for several minutes. Glancing sideways at Christine I sensed that something was on her mind. It was as though she was struggling to find the right words to say something so I said, “What is it? Is there something that you want to ask me?”

Christine stared at me for a few moments before turning to look straight ahead and responded, “Yes, I think that there is. Kate suggested that if you don’t tell me about a certain incident on your yacht then I might ask you. I don’t know what she was referring to but she did say that it wasn’t in any way to your detriment. Quite the opposite.” She then turned to face me and   asked, “Do you know what she was talking about?”

I glanced at her and said, “Yes. I do. I have been wondering about how to tell you about the incident. It happened almost three months ago and it is so unbelievable that at times I almost doubt that it even happened.” As I had been speaking I had my eyes fixed on the road ahead. Now I glanced sideways and saw that she was still staring at me with a puzzled expression. Looking back at the road I said, “Okay. I’ll tell you. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t want to upset you. This last week has been the best seven days of my life. What I am going to tell you will…”

As I hesitated, momentarily groping for the right words to use, she placed a hand on my arm and said, “You don’t have to tell me. This last seven days has been special to me too.” She then paused and gave my arm a gentle squeeze before continuing. “But you know that already.”

***

But I did have to tell her. If there was any ongoing threat to me then she might get involved just by being with me. It took almost fifty kilometres of the Hume Highway for me to relate the full story. I was looking straight ahead at the road the whole time as I spoke. I told her everything. Being thrown overboard and swimming for hours not knowing if I’d make it or not. Not reporting it to the police and why I didn’t. How I now assessed everyone at Red Rock in terms of what risk they might pose for me.

Her hand was resting on my arm and I sensed that she was looking at me as I drove and talked. When I finished it was a few moments before she asked, “Who else knows about this?”

“Well, Brian and Kate were the first people that I told. Then I reported it to the Queensland Crime and Corruption Commission a couple of weeks later. They may have passed it on to the police by now but I have had no feedback. I have told no one else. The only other people who know are the assailants, and their accomplices if there are any.”

Her hand trembled on my arm. “Oh Adam. This must be a nightmare for you.”

Her voice was full of concern and when I glanced at her she was visibly upset. Looking back at the road I saw that we were entering the city of Bathurst and the golden arches of McDonalds and a McCafe were visible in the distance. Without responding to her comment I drove on in silence until I turned in at the McDonalds sign and parked. “Let’s have a coffee.”

When I opened the car door for her she alighted from the vehicle and immediately gave me a hug, briefly resting her head on my shoulder. We then walked inside in silence.

As we were seated waiting for our cappuccinos to arrive I reached forward, cupped her hands in mine and said, “I’m so sorry to upset you. That’s why I delayed telling you.”

Christine shook her head. “No, don’t apologise, I’m glad that you told me. But I’ve been wondering. I understand why you didn’t go to the police, but why did you go to the Commission for Crime and Corruption?”

“I met with the Commission about some fraudulent activity associated with some of our contracts. They had established that the Comancheros bikie gang is connected to the Construction Workers Union and involved in criminal fraud on a large scale. The Commission had heard that the Comancheros regarded me as a person of interest and warned me that the bikie gang might seek to harm me.” I shrugged. “It seemed to be the right time for me to tell the Commission of the attempt on my life.”

“But, it wasn’t?”

“Apparently not. The Commission has all but ruled the Comancheros out as suspects.”

“What if it was just a case of mistaken identity?”

“I thought about that. It would probably mean that I wasn’t actually still in danger. But I wouldn’t know that. I could be looking over my shoulder for years, perhaps forever, not knowing for sure if I am in the clear or not. Not a pleasant prospect.”

Christine looked quite distressed. “But who could it be? If it’s not connected with the fraud at the construction site, and it’s not a case of mistaken identity, then who else is left?”

“Well, I’ve wracked my brains. There is certainly nothing in my private life that could give rise to such antagonism. It has to be something connected with my work.”

“What about that horrible man in the YouTube clip. He looks like he would be capable of almost anything, and he certainly didn’t like you.”

“Ah! Toby Jones. Yes, I did stir him up more than I should have. He would have been a prime suspect but the YouTube event was after the attempt on my life, not before. In any case Mister Toby Jones is now in Queensland’s witness protection scheme. He is going to testify against the Comancheros. No, I don’t think that Toby was responsible.”

Christine was certainly persistent and had obviously been thinking about the various possibilities. “What about jealousy or rivalry amongst other Gibson Construction people. You are very young for the job. I can imagine that there were some noses put out of joint when you were appointed.”

I gazed at her in surprise, she was demonstrating real perspicacity. “You are right. There were some very upset people when I was appointed, including the Project Manager with whom I have a poor working relationship. But, after thinking about that possibility in some depth I have ruled it out. No, I don’t think that jealousy or rivalry would have been a sufficient motive.”

“Well what about something that happened on another construction site that you had worked on before Red Rock?”

I smiled, she was not going to give up. She had a logical mind and her instincts, like mine, were telling her that there had to be an answer. “The Mount Godwin Mine. I worked there for three months before I got the Red Rock job. That is where my thinking keeps on coming back to. There was a major robbery there on the day that I left Mount Godwin about eight months ago. Three innocent people were killed.”

She was aghast. “What! Three people murdered. I never heard of that happening.”

“Well you were in the UK. It was big news here of course.”

She looked like she was still curious so I explained, “The robbery took place a few hours after me and my men had left. I saw nothing then and heard nothing later.”

“But there has to be a connection. What are the chances that two such extraordinary events take place in your life without them being connected? It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“I agree. But I just can’t see any connection.”

“Tell me about the robbery. I have never heard of a gold mine in Australia being robbed before. Is it common? I mean has it happened before?”

I responded, “Well I can’t say that it is common but there has been a history of gold mines being robbed going back to the eighteen hundreds when gold mining began in Australia. Not just gun fights between competing gold prospectors in the gold-rush days, but sophisticated stealing of partially-processed gold-bearing material from major mining operations. For example way back in 1893 the Mount Morgan Mine, inland from Rockhampton, experienced a major drop in gold recovery. Immediately prior to that discovery they had been making money hand-over-fist. So much so that extravagant management practices were rife. Management’s focus was famously on the protection of the miners lives at the expense of product security. This laxity led to opportunities for dishonest workers. Gold bearing material was pilfered at several of the processing stages. Being such a valuable, easily-concealable and marketable commodity, gold was an enticing target for thieves. By the time they caught the culprits it was estimated that gold to the value of more than $1 million, in today’s currency, was stolen.”

“Since they caught the guilty persons I assume that they recovered at least some of the stolen gold.”

“Not much. A few caches were found around the mine site for the next ten years, but only a small portion was recovered. The police spent months investigating and even hired a private investigator from Sydney who went ‘undercover’ as a worker at the mine. Eventually his information led to the arrest of ten men, several of whom were highly respected Rockhampton citizens. But that was not the end of it. Most of the men arrested were eventually set free as the jury decided that there was not sufficient proof. The Judge later said that he agreed with the verdict but still had a strong suspicion that they were guilty. Some of those who were convicted later got released on appeal because the undercover operative, employed by the mine, had encouraged them to steal. The Court Hearing was a big news story in its day.”

Christine was looking at me with a look of surprise. “How is it that you are so well informed? That all happened a hundred years ago.”

I shrugged. “When I was questioned about the Mount Godwin robbery I became curious about the security of gold at gold mines and later spent some time searching the internet for information about failures of gold mine security.”

“But the Mount Morgan robbery was more than a hundred years ago. What about today? Security must be a lot better.”

“It certainly is. Computerised tracking of the gold contained in the ore through the various processing stages can quickly highlight any siphoning off of gold-bearing work-in-process. I see that the main risk today is theft of the final product. Just imagine the temptation to would-be thieves. A medium sized gold mine in a remote area, like Mount Godwin or Red Rock, could produce gold worth more than $120 million each year. Almost $2.5 million per week. This can be accumulated for several weeks, perhaps a month or more, before it is collected for delivery to a refinery. So, in a remote area without any local police, there could be a stockpile of gold worth more than $10 million sitting in a vulnerable location.”

She shook her head in wonderment. “But that must be a serious temptation to unscrupulous thieves.”

I nodded. “I agree. It’s not just the gold that is at risk. The tragedy is that it can put lives in jeopardy as happened at the Mount Godwin Mine.”

“Well, if Mount Godwin robbers could kill three people who happened to get in their way then they would not hesitate to drown you if they thought that you were a threat to them somehow. Surely there can’t be so many callous killers in Australia that the two events are unconnected.”

I had been wondering that very point myself, but the taking of human life during criminal activity was no longer the rare event that it used to be. “I don’t know about in Australia, but in Mexico recently, four gold mine workers were kidnapped and later found dead. They had all been tortured to death. Ten days later a masked gang descended on the gold mine and stole $15 million worth of gold. It is assumed that the thieves used insider information that they had obtained from the four dead workers.