‘I might. We’ll see. At least I’m willing to listen. Sit down, Ms Tanner, and Rog ... or Rod, why don’t you bring a chair in from outside.’
He knew I was testing him all the way—provisional about believing him and giving him instructions. He handled it well, shot a quick nod to the woman, opened the door, grabbed a plastic chair and brought it in.
I opened the mini-bar and offered one of the little bottles of gin to Kristine, who glanced at her companion and shook her head. I tossed a can of VB to him and picked up my can.
‘Let’s hear it,’ I said.
~ * ~
It wasn’t surprising to learn that the Tanners were a major preoccupation of the Central Coast Serious Crimes unit. The father and sons and several cousins were involved in much of the criminal activity over a wide area stretching up towards the Northern Rivers district, west to Orange and south towards Sydney. They were into drug importation and distribution, armed holdup, protection rackets and a lot more. In fact the criminality had extended back two generations and, while several members of the extended family had served gaol sentences, the Tanners had enjoyed what looked like a charmed life,
‘Mainly due to police corruption,’ Templeton said. ‘But that’s changed lately and they’re under pressure. And when crims come under pressure things tend to happen. You can’t provide something, you can’t protect someone, you can’t settle a dispute. Cracks appear. You’d be aware of that, Hardy.’
I was, and with every word he spoke I was more convinced he was the genuine article.
Templeton went on, ‘Hector and Joseph are in trouble. There’s no green light, not even yellow, and funds are drying up. They badly need that buried money.’
‘What about Jobe?’ I said.
Kristine said, ‘That’s part of what’s happening. Dad’s old and he’s got religion. He was baptised a Catholic and it’s sort of come back to nag at him.’
I finished my beer. ‘Bit late from what I’m told and from what I’ve just heard.’
She looked distressed, almost out of her depth. ‘Catholics can be forgiven.’
‘Jobe knows the old days are gone,’ Templeton said. ‘Hector and Joseph, him particularly, either can’t see it or don’t want to. Jobe’s trying to ease out of all the crooked connections— the drugs, the payoffs, the money-laundering scams through the clubs. He’s trying to keep himself out of gaol and protect Kristie and save Hector and Joseph from themselves.’
‘Big ask,’ I said.
Templeton hadn’t opened his can. He put it on the floor. ‘When I said cracks are appearing, I meant it. It was much too easy for me to get on the strength with them. I had the mocked-up credentials all right, but if they’d really checked properly they’d have backed off
‘Still might,’ I said.
Kristine looked alarmed but Templeton shook his head. ‘No, they’re feeling the heat. A few of their heavies have sloped off to other parts.’
I rubbed the arm where he’d hit me. ‘You’re convincing.’
‘I had to let them make the play.’
‘So what do you want me to do? Always supposing I believe all of this.’
Kristine looked tired and stressed. ‘Like I said, don’t tell bloody Johnnie that Hector and Joseph are on his side.’
Templeton shook his head. ‘This is where Kristie and I think differently.’
‘What is it between you two?’
Kristine’s attitude to him, in her looks and body language, which had been wholly supportive, was now half accusatory, half submissive.
Templeton clasped and unclasped his big hands. ‘Look, Kristie came to us with the story, about Twizell and the money and everything. It made sense.’
‘So the money’s real?’
‘We think it is.’
‘You think.’
‘There’s been a rumour around for a while that a big shipment of cash being sent from a finance company to who knows where went missing. The word is that it was an inside job and the security firm hushed everything up and wore it, because they had a huge contract about to come their way and didn’t want any black marks on their record.’
‘What about the people who took the money?’
Templeton shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’
They hadn’t answered my question about their relationship but it wasn’t too hard to work out by this point. The undercover guy and the informant fall in love. It happens.
‘So,’ I said, looking at Templeton, ‘what do you want me to do?’