The Verge Practice
Read The Verge Practice Online
Authors: Barry Maitland
Praise for Barry Maitland’s Brock and Kolla series
‘There is no doubt about it, if you are a serious lover of crime fiction, ensure Maitland’s Brock and Kolla series takes pride of place in your collection.’
—
Weekend Australian
‘Barry Maitland is one of Australia’s finest crime writers.’
—
Sunday Tasmanian
‘Comparable to the psychological crime novelists, such as Ruth Rendell . . . tight plots, great dialogue, very atmospheric.’ —
Sydney Morning Herald
‘Maitland is a consummate plotter, steadily complicating an already complex narrative while artfully managing the relationships of his characters.’ —
The Age
‘Perfect for a night at home severing red herrings from clues, sorting outright lies from half-truths and separating suspicious felons from felonious suspects.’
—
Herald Sun
‘Maitland does a masterly job keeping so many balls in the air while sustaining an atmosphere of genuine intrigue, suspense and, ultimately, dread. He is right up there with Ruth Rendell.’ —
Australian Book Review
‘Forget the stamps, start collecting Maitlands now.’ —
Morning Star
‘Maitland gets better and better, and Brock and Kolla are an impressive team who deserve to become household names.’ —
Publishing News
‘Maitland stacks his characters in interesting piles, and lets his mystery burn busily and bright.’ —
Courier-Mail
Also by Barry Maitland
The Marx Sisters
The Malcontenta
All My Enemies
The Chalon Heads
Silvermeadow
Babel
No Trace
Spider Trap
BARRY
MAITLAND
the verge practice
This edition published in 2008
First published in 2003
Copyright © Barry Maitland 2003
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The
Australian Copyright Act 1968
(the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10% of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.
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National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
Maitland, Barry.
The Verge practice.
ISBN 978 1 74175 534 3
A823.3
Set in 10.5/12pt Adobe Garamond by Midland Typesetters,Australia
Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To the long-suffering spouse of the architect
Make no little plans
Daniel Burnham, 1846-1912
Table of Contents
T
he Zhejiang delegation stood huddled at the foot of the great sheet of glass that hung between two brick warehouses, twisting out before hitting the ground to form a shimmering canopy supported on a spider’s web of thin stainless-steel rods.
Sandy Clarke, senior partner of the Verge Practice, hurried through the glass doors to welcome them, the firm’s information manager, Jennifer Mathieson, at his side.
Stiff little bows, handshakes and business cards were exchanged, and the party moved from the chill May morning into the warm interior. Once past the low ceiling of the reception area, they paused for a moment to admire the sweep of the atrium that soared up above them, surrounded by floors of open-plan drawing offices, and to take in the view of the river through the glass wall on the far side.
‘Rondon Bridge.’ Cheong Hung, leader of the delegation, beamed knowingly at the structure to their left.
‘Tower Bridge, Mr Cheong,’ Clarke corrected politely, and drew his guest further to the right to point out the pinnacles of the Tower of London just visible beyond the bridge. He then turned to indicate the tiers of levels rising above them, all brightly lit and humming with activity, although it was only eight o’clock on a Monday morning.
‘Would you care to inspect our facilities?’
Cheong’s English wasn’t that good, and he looked inquiringly at a woman at his elbow, who began to whisper a translation into his ear.
‘Ah.’ Cheong checked his watch and shook his head. He spoke to the woman, who then turned to Clarke. ‘Mr Cheong regrets we are short of time. We are familiar with your facilities from your brochures. They are most impressive. Please to continue to the presentation of your proposals.’
‘Of course.’ Clarke was aware the party had three other presentations to attend that day before catching their flight back to the People’s Republic, and that time was tight, but he knew that Jennifer was anxious to delay things until Charles could be traced. He led the way through a gallery in which models and photographs of some of their more spectacular recent projects were displayed: office towers, a football stadium, a dinosaur museum. Jennifer Mathieson described them briefly as they passed, but the visitors seemed more interested in her red hair and long legs. They came to a milky glass wall that parted with a mechanical sigh in front of them, and entered the auditorium that had been prepared for the formal presentation. While the Chinese accepted coffees and took them to their seats, Jennifer whispered urgently in his ear, ‘Where the hell is he, Sandy?’
‘He must still be upstairs in the flat,’ Clarke said calmly.
‘I saw a light on when I arrived this morning. I asked Elaine to call him.’
‘I spoke to her. She says no one’s answering the phone.
There’s no sign of Miki either.’
Clarke could understand her consternation. This wasn’t at all like Charles. Normally he’d have been down in the office hours before, thrashing out the final details of the presentation with the media unit.
‘Maybe he’s in the shower or on his mobile. He’s probably still jet-lagged from the States. Why don’t you go up there, Jennifer? Take the key and winkle him out. I’ll get things started.’
He fixed a confident smile on his face as Jennifer made for the door.
The audience was waiting. Clarke walked to the front of the room and introduced the other senior staff of the Verge Practice who were present.
‘And Mr Verge?’ Cheong asked haltingly. ‘Will he join us?’
‘Naturally, Mr Verge intended to join us. He has been totally involved in the proposals you are about to see.
Unfortunately, he seems to have picked up a virus on a recent trip to California, and he has been unwell. He will join us if he possibly can.’
This was translated, producing an exchange of stony looks among the Chinese.
Cheong murmured a few words to the interpreter, who said, ‘Mr Cheong is most disappointed. He very much wished to meet Charles Verge in person.’
‘And Charles is very anxious to meet him. However, since time is short, I suggest that we start the presentation.’
Sandy Clarke beamed another reassuring smile and nodded at the technician. Thank God for digital media, he thought; at least I shan’t have to speak for the next fifteen minutes.
Charles wouldn’t have done it this way, of course. He would have worked the audience first, set the scene, hinted at the vision, created a receptive atmosphere. They had formed an effective partnership so often in the past, Charles’s dynamism and his own poise, but today he was on his own.
Clarke moved to a seat against the wall and the room slowly filled with the sound of traditional Chinese music; the screen flicked alive to a scene of white clouds and the title, in both Chinese and English characters, came into focus:
The New City of Wuxang
. The titles faded and the clouds parted to reveal a patchwork of green fields, a rural landscape in Zhejiang province. Below could be seen a small village, rice paddies, a lake, a wood—and suddenly something else: an interchange, a row of towers, and then a huge city, digitally realised, stretching away in magnificent order towards the horizon, its buildings and highways glittering purposefully in the sunlight.
It was a lie to say that Charles had been totally involved in the development of this proposal. The truth was that he had shown little interest in it, though it was far and away the biggest thing they’d ever been called upon to design.