The day was cold, grey and wet the way it should be for a funeral. It was a big affair and the second in a short space of time for the Tanners and their many connections.
There was a heavy police presence on the lookout for Hector but he didn’t show. Joseph, who’d been indicted and was awaiting trial, was allowed to attend. He was closely guarded but not under restraint. He saw me and scowled, or perhaps he was scowling at Marisha. Anyway, he didn’t hold the expression long. There were a lot of cameras around and he didn’t want to look too threatening on the front page of the Newcastle Herald.
We didn’t go to the wake. Without saying so we were both aware that the last wake we’d been at was Lily’s and that, with all due regard to the love we’d had for her, was something we wanted to put behind us.
Kerry Watson fronted up as we were leaving the cemetery. He looked as worn out as ever.
‘Going to the booze-up?’
‘No,’ I said.
He nodded. ‘Duty calls, but the Tanners have given me a lot of grief over the years. I’ll be glad to get a drink out of them.’
‘Nothing on Templeton and Twizell?’ I said.
‘To tell you the truth, we’ve been too busy with other things to bother much. See you, Hardy, Ms Henderson.’
There hadn’t been a lot to say about the documents lost in Wakefield’s car. Whether the journal he’d found was real or a fake, or whether it was supported or not by the letters and other papers, no one would ever know. The story of the Dunbar would remain as it was.
Marisha was quiet on the drive back to her flat. We hadn’t spoken about it but we both knew I’d be heading back to Sydney soon. We’d been getting along very well and, in the way that people do when they find mental and sexual compatibility, we each had a good idea what the other was thinking about.
‘Come on,’ I said, ‘there’s something on your mind about Templeton and Jack Twizell, right?’
‘Mmm.’
‘What?’
‘You’re not interested in following it up, are you?’
‘No, not much.’
‘Because there’s no money in it?’
‘Partly.’
‘What if there was?’
‘Are you offering to pay me again?’
She touched my arm. ‘No, I don’t think either of us’d like that much, and I couldn’t afford you for very long.’
‘What is it, then?’
‘Let me think about it.’
We got back to the flat, hung up our wet coats and agreed we should have a drink for Kristie. Marisha got out the vodka that was Kristie’s favourite tipple and built two big ones with tonic and ice and slices of lime. We stood by the window looking out at the grey, misty view, and touched glasses.
‘Kristie!’
We drank.
‘Hector Tanner,’ Marisha said suddenly.
‘Jesus Christ, are you having dealings with him? He’s bloody dangerous. How did you contact him?’
‘He contacted me. I have to admit it was scary. He rang me and it was clear he knew a lot about me and what I was doing. I nearly pissed myself but all he wanted was to help me.’
‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. All Hector Tanner would ever want to do is help himself.’
‘You’re wrong. Listen to me. He’s not as bad as Joseph, not really. Don’t forget I got a lot of stuff from Jobe and Kristie. Hector never killed anyone. He was more of an organiser, an administrator, if you will.’
‘You’re kidding yourself.’
‘Maybe, and I’m being super-cautious.’
‘You better be. How long has this been going on?’
Her laugh was unlike her usual full-bodied guffaw, more uncertain. ‘Just since yesterday.’
‘What’re you hoping to get from him?’
‘Whatever I can. More to the point is what he wants from me.’
‘And that is?’
‘He wants help from you.’
‘From me?’
Yes, he’s been in touch with Templeton, who he calls Tarrant, but same bloke. Templeton says Twizell won’t tell him where the money is.’
‘Oh, so he wants Hector to come along with Clem and the bolt-cutters.’
‘No. According to Hector, Twizell says he knows he’ll be killed if he tells Templeton what he wants so he doesn’t care what Templeton or anyone else does to him. He wants to negotiate a safe passage and wants you to supervise the deal. Broker it, as it were.’
‘That’s crazy. Why would I do that?’
‘Twizell trusts you and Hector and Templeton respect you.’