THE GREATEST BETRAYAL: A romantic thriller with a shocking twist, page 16
‘Sorry. Just admiring those flyboys.’
‘They’re showing potential.’
Mac held out his hand. ‘Callan McKenzie,’ he said. ‘I’m a pilot with TPA.’
The other man shook his hand. ‘Jack Reynolds.’ He looked Mac up and down, sizing him up. ‘You’re that Captain Mac fellow.’
‘I got talked into that gig by a very pretty lady.’
‘They’re hard to say no to,’ Reynolds said. ‘So, what can we do for you?’
‘Nothing,’ Mac said. But then he reconsidered. ‘A job, maybe.’
‘What about your great big jet airliner job?’
‘TPA was good enough to give me some extended leave to do other things.’
‘This isn’t one of those hippie-era things like trying to find yourself, is it?’
‘I’m looking for the real Australia.’
‘You’re a hundred years too late,’ Reynolds said with a grin.
‘What are those guys up there doing?’ Mac asked, sticking his thumb skyward in the direction of the planes. ‘Looks like they’re practising precision stuff.’
‘I run a flying school here,’ Reynolds told him. ‘Train quite a few blokes for the various air shows. Some of ’em have even been winners.’
‘Sounds like fun.’
‘But most of my customers are regular dudes looking to get a commercial licence. You reckon you could teach them?’
Mac was enjoying this man’s rustic charm. He adopted a slight twang in his reply. ‘Reckon I could.’
‘Tell you what,’ Reynolds said. ‘Take me up for a spin so I know you’re the real deal, and I can hire you to give a few lessons. Look good on my resume to have a TPA man’ – he exaggerated that part – ‘on my books, now won’t it?’
Half an hour later Mac was in the cockpit of a twin-engine Cessna, flying Jack Reynolds over lush, green paddocks, and gently sloping hills.
‘And what’s your background, Jack?’ Mac asked.
‘Air force. Twenty years. Retired. Saw action in Afghanistan, amongst other places. This is a lot more peaceful, Captain Mac.’ His permanent grin widened.
‘Then you could do with a little excitement,’ Mac said. ‘How about you teach me some of that precision flying stuff?’
* * *
Mac found a room at a local boarding house. He spent the next two months in Schofields, flying, teaching, and learning. It was the first place and the first thing he had found that helped distract him from his ordeal in Jakarta, and from the loss of Liz. It was on a Tuesday night in his ninth week there he received a call from Carl Vickerson.
‘Mac, I have some news. Nothing much, but–’
‘What is it, Vickerson?’
‘In my talks with the Indonesians and the embassy there, I’ve sussed out Johnny Makawi’s name is on dozens of under-the-radar shell companies masquerading as importers-exporters. Those companies have dealings with various transport and shipping firms. The news is that, from one of my sources here, I’ve learned those shell companies are being investigated by the Australian Federal Police for links with organized crime.’
‘What kind of organized crime?’
‘Drugs. Cocaine, heroin, weed.’
‘I thought all that stuff came mainly from South America and Europe.’
‘It does,’ said Vickerson. ‘But Indonesia has a large heroin problem, and with its fishing trawlers and its ports it’s being used increasingly as a distribution point for heroin, and now for all kinds of substances, into Australia and New Zealand.’
‘It doesn’t explain what they wanted with me.’
‘Not yet,’ said Vickerson. ‘But, Mac, we’ve uncovered a trail and now we need to stay the course.’
FIFTY-SIX
The admin for all the Vetrani businesses was handled out of their North Sydney head office. Liz tapped on the door to the chief accountant’s office as she stepped in. ‘Hi, Arthur.’
Liz had always thought Arthur Sykes had the look of a man who suspected everyone of everything. She always expected his hand to urgently cover the papers he was looking over. He had a cop’s face, but he was, in fact, an easy-going, polite, meticulous, finance man, married for over twenty-five years, and with three grown children.
He looked up from his desk. ‘Liz.’
She pulled over a visitor’s chair and sat facing him. ‘How are those boys of yours?’
‘Lazy,’ he said.
‘Typical teenage lads, then?’
‘Two of them are over twenty now.’
‘So, they’re still works in progress, eh?’
‘Epic works in progress.’
‘And Mellie?’
Sykes cast an exasperated expression. ‘She thinks the answer to all the world’s ills is to go shopping for new outfits.’
‘Now that I can relate to,’ Liz said.
‘To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?’ Sykes asked.
‘A favour,’ said Liz. ‘I’m planning a totally over-the-top birthday prezzie for Raf–’
‘It’s his birthday?’
‘Not for a while yet. But this will take some pre-planning, and… well, it won’t be cheap.’
‘Nothing about the Vetranis comes cheap,’ he said with a wan smile.
Liz acknowledged the comment with a grin and a spread of her arms. She was inwardly pleased she’d managed to put Sykes at ease, no mean feat as both his quip and his weak smile were out of character.
‘I know the companies are going well,’ Liz said, ‘but as this surprise present will carry a hefty price tag, I want to make certain, for my own peace of mind, it isn’t going to cause any angst, income-wise, for me and Raf. So, I’d like to take a look over the accounts. I want this to be a really pleasant surprise, not an “oh my God no we can’t afford it” kind of shock, if you get my drift?’
Sykes had lapsed back to his usual uncomfortable self. ‘Shouldn’t you discuss this with Raf?’
‘Then it wouldn’t be a surprise. And besides, he’s out of town at the moment.’
Sykes shrugged. ‘I see.’ He considered this for a moment. ‘Perhaps it’s worth running by Bruno?’
‘A two-year-old can keep a secret better than Bruno. The moment Raf looks at him he can tell if his brother is hiding something.’
Sykes nodded. ‘Yes, I know what you mean.’
‘So, if you could set up access for me.’
‘I can run you through the accounts myself,’ Sykes said.
‘No, you’ve got enough on your plate with everything that’s going on around here.’
Sykes pursed his lips. ‘Well…’
Liz grasped the moment. ‘Thanks, Arthur. I really appreciate it.’ She leaned forward expectantly.
Liz had begun to worry that Raf was spending too much by purchasing the land by the Hawkesbury, hiring architects and builders to construct his dream home, not to mention buying and crewing the yacht which he was now sponsoring in the Sydney to Hobart race. Then there were the finances being invested in the agency. She’d questioned Raf on all this. He’d assured her it was just a drop in the ocean to the income he had flooding in.
She’d believed him, swept up as she had been in the early days by his confidence and his charisma.
Sykes scribbled on a notepad, tore off the leaf and handed it to her. ‘This password will access the accounts for the various companies.’
Liz pocketed the note. ‘That’s great.’ She stood to leave. ‘And not a word to Raf, okay?’ She placed her right forefinger to her lips.
The accountant nodded reluctantly. ‘Just what is this super-duper surprise, anyway?’
She flashed a mysterious grin. ‘Need-to-know basis, Arthur. But all will be revealed.’
* * *
Liz drove across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, back to her office in the Australia Square Tower. She told Sally she wasn’t taking any calls. Closing the door to her office, Liz flexed her hands and sat behind her desk. She accessed the Vetrani Investments intranet, tapped the “Finance” icon and entered the password. What was she looking for? Anything, she supposed, that raised a suspicion with her.
She did know what she wanted to find; nothing.
Nothing at all out of the ordinary.
She spent an hour poring over one spreadsheet after another. All appeared to be in order. The businesses all showed healthy profits, although the amount of profit and income didn’t seem to cover the level of spending Raf had undertaken with the house, and with the funds he’d poured into the expanding of her advertising business. Was she missing something?
The real estate developments were harder to understand. There was a lot of money being moved from one area to another. Liz had to admit she didn’t have the financial head to follow every nuance of these spreadsheets.
When Liz’s own business had become part of the Vetrani Investments group, she had stopped using her own personal accountant. Raf had insisted it should all now be under the one umbrella, and be administered out of their HQ. On an impulse, Liz picked up the phone and called the woman who had previously handled her accounts. Rosa Skamos was someone Liz knew she could rely on to be discreet.
‘Hi, Rosa. I wonder if I could ask a big favour? I’ve got some spreadsheets I’d like you to look at.’
* * *
Everything about Rosa Skamos was larger than life. Big hair, big eyes, big personality. She favoured long, flowing garments, and she bustled in, with a wide smile, and spoke briefly with Sally before Liz ushered her through to her office.
She hadn’t been available to help her old friend the previous day, when she’d received the call, but Rosa had made time this morning.
‘I just want to get someone who knows figures the way you do to look at some accounts,’ Liz said.
‘You’ve got some concerns, honey?’
‘Not really. Long story, let’s just say someone with an agenda is trying to spook me.’
‘And you want to put it to rest in your own mind?’
‘Yep.’
‘Then let’s do this.’
Liz’s fingers flew across the keyboard. She entered the password and froze when a dialog box appeared on the screen.
Password Incorrect.
She re-entered the password and got the same result. Rosa waited patiently, her eyes showing her concern. Liz tried a third time. Same result.
‘They’ve changed the password,’ she said.
‘Sorry to state the obvious,’ Rosa said, ‘but someone didn’t want you spending too much time with those spreadsheets.’
FIFTY-SEVEN
Liz had checked with Raf’s secretary. There was nothing secret about his itinerary. Another series of meetings and dinners with the CEOs of several Victoria-based companies. These were the latest round of acquisitions Raf was pursuing. For each of his trips to Melbourne he stayed at the Mercury International Hotel.
While Bruno had always been tight with both the company’s and his own personal finances, Raf had been the opposite. Money was no object. So, if that was the case, why was she being kept at arm’s length from knowing anything about their finances? Was he keeping secrets? Had he tampered with those birth control pills? Why had there been such a rapid change in him since their elopement? Was he still the wild boy and womanizer both Monica and Caterina said he’d been in his early days? Was that the real reason for his distance and for these endless nights away? Even Bruno had advised him to cut back on these trips.
I’m being paranoid.
She came through the customs bay at Melbourne Airport at 9.45 p.m. and hailed a taxi.
What am I doing? This isn’t me.
‘No luggage?’ asked the cabbie.
‘Just me,’ she said, sliding into the back seat. On an impulse she’d asked Caterina to look after Luke, and she’d gone to the airport in Sydney, managing to secure a seat on the next flight.
‘Where to, Miss?’
‘The Mercury International,’ she said.
Now I’m the stalker.
She’d kept telling herself she was simply taking charge, that this out-of-character impulse would prove once and for all her suspicions, and Monica’s warnings, were all unfounded. Then she’d know this surprise trip would have been in all their best interests. But as she stepped from the taxi and walked into the lobby of the hotel, she felt the panic rising in her.
Have I become the new Monica?
‘Can I help you?’ asked the receptionist.
Liz produced her ID. ‘My husband is staying at the hotel,’ she said. ‘He’s expecting me but he’s out at a dinner at the moment. If I could just get a spare key…?’
Minutes later she swiped the key card and pushed open the door to Raf’s room on the seventh floor. All that time on the flight and in the taxi, her mind had been in turmoil, her emotions not like her emotions at all. She hadn’t been certain what to expect when she arrived and surprised Raf, but it was nothing like the sight that greeted her when she walked into the room.
FIFTY-EIGHT
Raf and two buxom girls – naked; their entwined bodies stretched across the plush lounge suite and onto the richly textured carpet floor.
One of the girls glanced lazily in Liz’s direction. ‘Who’s this?’
Raf’s head whipped round. He reached for his trousers and quickly pulled them on, his eyes locking with his wife’s. ‘Liz…?’
For several seconds Liz stood frozen, absorbing the scene before her. Her husband’s eyes were glazed, as though he’d been on a bender.
‘Go to hell, Raf,’ she said. She turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her as she went.
FIFTY-NINE
Despite the hour, Liz caught a taxi back to the airport. She wasn’t thinking straight, didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing. Suddenly it seemed she was a different person, leading someone else’s life.
The images were stuck in her head.
How can that be the man I love, the father of my child?
She held her smartphone in her hand. She thought about phoning Martin or Caterina or Bruno or Sally. She wanted to blurt it all out to someone who cared.
Instead, she found herself wanting to call Mac. Cry on his shoulder, share her grief, admit to the terrible mistake she’d made. But Mac had been off the radar for months. He’d suffered a traumatic injustice and who had truly been there for him? He’d gone off alone. Was he wandering aimlessly? Or had he started rebuilding a new life?
Her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and saw it was Raf. She was about to press “Ignore” but then on an impulse, she answered. What could this manic stranger possibly have to say to her after what had just happened?
‘Liz, I’m so sorry. I’ve been a fool. Come back. Let’s talk.’
‘Are you kidding me?’
‘I know I’ve been spinning out of control, Liz. I need help and I’m going to get it. I don’t want to lose you–’
‘We’re finished, Raf.’
‘There’s a devil inside me. I thought I’d left that part of me in the past, but I’ve slipped… the pressures…’
‘What pressures?’
‘Chasing the acquisitions, I’ve overreached, taken on too much debt, profits are down this quarter… panic started setting in. And I’ve been acting out, like a stupid kid, I know…’
‘Does Bruno know what’s going on with the finances?’
‘Not the full story. He’s always trying to hold back on any borrowing or takeovers.’
‘You need to come clean with Bruno and try to do the right thing, but I doubt you’re even capable–’
He cut across her, pleading. ‘Don’t shut me out, Liz. I need you–’
‘You don’t need me. What am I? One of your acquisitions?’
‘Liz–’
‘Were you on drugs in that room?’
‘This is a wake-up call, I can change all this.’
Despite the fury she felt inside, Liz was surprised by how calmly she responded. Perhaps she should have remained Rational Liz all along.
‘It’s a wake-up call all right,’ she said. ‘I hope for Bruno’s sake you get the help you need. But I’m divorcing you, Raf.’
He shouted down the line at her. ‘I’m your husband. We need to talk about this.’
‘Don’t call this number again,’ she said, and ended the call.
* * *
There was a 6 a.m. Qantas flight the following morning. Liz booked the one remaining business class seat from her phone and sat waiting in the airport lobby all night, wide awake, going over the rollercoaster ride of events from the past year. The memories flashed repeatedly in her mind until she thought she was going mad.
She dozed off and on in the last hour before boarding began.
I have to get my life back.
She’d phoned ahead to ask Bruno and Caterina if they could look after Luke for another day while she got her head together. She told Caterina what had happened, and Bruno had come on the line.
‘So sorry, Liz,’ he’d said.
‘Yeah.’ It was all she could manage to say. She was exhausted.
‘I’ll pick you up at the airport and drive you home,’ Bruno said.
‘No need, Bruno.’
‘I’ll be there,’ he said.
* * *
Bruno pulled up outside the Chatswood house and walked Liz to the door. A soft breeze scattered leaves at their feet, across the doorstep, and through the garden at the front of the property.
‘Will you be alright?’ Bruno asked as Liz put her key in the door.
‘I’ll be fine, Bruno. I can’t thank you enough for…’ Her voice trailed, tears welling in her eyes.
‘I’d stay, Liz, it’s just–’
‘You’ve done more than enough, Bruno, far more than I would’ve expected. You need to be with your own family… and you’ve got your hands full in the office. You’re the one who’s actually running Vetrani Investments day-to-day while Raf’s off playing emperor. And you need to look at the accounting. I don’t know how he’s done it, but Raf’s been hiding stuff from you. And what’s more, I’m putting paperwork in motion to take back full ownership of my agency.’
‘Understood. And I’ll look into those finances. But Arthur Sykes has his finger on the pulse.’
