Chapter Forty-Three
CHAPTER
43
When I call Aiden on Tuesday morning, he picks up immediately.
‘This is a nice surprise.’
‘Back in March, we met outside the nursing home and then went to the pub. I told you I’d found Dad’s film. Did you tell anyone about that?’
‘I could have done. Is that a problem?’
‘I need to know who you told. I’d also like to ask a favour …’
***
After speaking to Aiden, I call Lucas. When I tell him we need to talk, he questions why and is rattled when I refuse to answer. He tries to put me off, but I tell him if he won’t come to me on Wednesday afternoon, I’ll come to him. ‘I know where you live— and where you work.’
***
I call Kit early on Wednesday morning but the phone rings out. When I call later, he answers.
‘Mackenzie.’ His breaths are short.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I was swimming.’
I adjust the position of the saddle on the workbench, then clamp it into place. ‘Is your eye okay for swimming?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you swim in the ocean?’
‘Yes.’
‘Astrid wants to shoot more footage at the national park.’
‘She told me.’
No sweetheart. No kj?reste. My heart hurts. ‘I’d better get back to work.’
‘I’m going to Wollongong in an hour. I’ll leave there for Summerfield early tomorrow morning.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why did you call?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘What, Mackenzie?’
‘I told you I had to sort something out, something about my father. I hope you don’t hear about it before I get the chance to explain.’
He mutters in Norwegian. ‘Tell me what it is.’
‘When I know more, I will.’
‘Mackenzie!’
‘I’m sorry.’
Long after I disconnect, I keep hold of the phone. Kit doesn’t want trouble. Astrid doesn’t want complications. I owe it to them to find out the truth.
***
Six months ago, Lucas made a point of pulling over and giving unsolicited advice—in-home care might have been available to Grandpa if the mine hadn’t closed. Today he parks on the far side of the saddlery as if he doesn’t want to be seen from the road. As Keith Urban trots to heel, I attempt a smile. ‘Can we talk in the shed, Lucas? We won’t be interrupted in there.’
He looks curiously at the other car. ‘Who else is here?’
Going by Lucas’s double-take at the door to the shed, he doesn’t expect Angelo any more than Angelo expects him. With an annoyed glance in my direction, Angelo steps forward and holds out his hand.
‘It’s been a while.’
Lucas hesitates before shaking. ‘It has.’
Arms crossed, I look from one man to the other. ‘My grandfather said you know each other well, that you were great mates.’
‘A long time ago.’ Lucas keeps his distance, standing near the shelves that line the wall while Angelo leans against a workbench.
‘Why are we here?’ Angelo asks.
‘I thought Lucas would have been one of the mates you were catching up with. Given you were at school together and both worked at the mine. Does he know what you told me about Dad?’
Angelo’s lips purse in annoyance. ‘That was between you and me.’
‘What is she talking about?’ Lucas asks defensively. ‘What’s this about?’
Angelo pretends indifference. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
I trace a line in the dust on a shelf of saddle trees. ‘Angelo said my father knew that hazardous waste taken from the Summerfield mine was dumped illegally. It didn’t only happen once; it happened several times. He claims Dad accepted kickbacks to keep quiet about it, and he only complained when he found out, by chance, the contractor had dumped a load of waste on the mine site itself.’
‘I know nothing about this.’ Lucas walks agitatedly towards me. ‘Nothing.’
‘Angelo said Dad had confronted whoever was behind the dumping, and they’d made threats against him, threats to expose his part in it all.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Lucas’s voice is a few octaves higher than usual. ‘This doesn’t make sense.’
Angelo straightens. ‘Settle down, mate. This has nothing to do with us.’
I keep my focus on Lucas. ‘Angelo told me he’d heard from one of his mates that if I said anything about hazardous waste, if I showed the police the video and photos I’ve found, my father’s reputation would be trashed. Are you the mate, Lucas? Is it you he was talking about?’
‘I know nothing about this!’ Lucas says. ‘Nothing!’
‘But you’re not surprised about hazardous waste, are you? Just like Angelo, you know more than you’re letting on.’
After glancing sharply at Lucas, Angelo turns to me. ‘Have you gone crazy?’
‘I want the truth. If I don’t get it, I’ll go to the police.’
‘Maybe they’re already here?’ He looks around. ‘Is this a set-up?’
Do not look at your phone. Do not think about Aiden, sitting at a desk ten kilometres away, listening in. Do not look at your phone.
‘If you haven’t done anything wrong, why would you even consider that?’ Late afternoon sun creeps through the cracks around the windows and doors of the shed. Workbenches, presses, leather punches and bulky tools. The shelves are stuffed with supplies and decades-old bits and pieces. I hold out my arms. ‘You’re welcome to look around.’
‘I’m leaving,’ Lucas says, but after another sharp glance from Angelo he stays where he is.
‘I had nothing to do with hazardous waste,’ Angelo says to Lucas. ‘Neither did you. Like I told Mac, I heard something on the grapevine and, as a mate of Sam’s from years back, I felt I had a duty to warn his daughter that he was involved.’
‘I haven’t seen anyone,’ Lucas mutters. ‘No one.’
‘Grandpa told me you, Angelo and Dad called yourselves the three amigos. He said you were close.’
Angelo waves a dismissive hand. ‘Schoolboys.’
‘You and Dad fell out over the mine, didn’t you, Lucas?’
‘It was all or nothing with Sam,’ Lucas says. ‘I was the same.’
‘Angelo went to the funeral. You didn’t attend or see Grandpa afterwards. Why was that?’
‘Mac …’ Angelo huffs a laugh. ‘We were both upset when your father passed away. Lucas even more than me.’
‘Did you hold a grudge, Lucas? Is that why you didn’t turn up to his funeral? I’ve wondered why you were so nasty to Grandpa about the mine closure. Did you want to run him out of town?’
‘What have you said?’ Lucas, beads of sweat running down the side of his face, turns to Angelo. ‘Why is she asking these questions?’
‘Mate!’ Angelo grabs Lucas’s arm. ‘Settle down, will you? We missed Sam, didn’t we? But he had his own way of dealing with things. There’s nothing we can do or say to bring him back.’
‘My father died over thirteen years ago.’ I face Angelo again. ‘Why make accusations against him now? You must have something to hide.’
‘All I did was give sensible advice.’ Angelo’s face is flushed. ‘To protect your father’s reputation, you should mind your own business.’
‘Sam always needed money.’ Lucas pulls free of Angelo’s hold and clings so tightly onto the bench that the tips of his fingers turn white. ‘He did what he could to get it.’
‘You’re afraid, Lucas. Why is that?’
‘This was so long ago, you’ve admitted that.’ Lucas nods as if convincing himself. ‘This is all water under the bridge.’
‘Dad had evidence that waste had been dumped at the mine. You were the manager there, and you and Dad had a personal history. There’s a good chance he would have told you what he’d found.’
Lucas’s mouth is open, but no words come out.
‘Sam was hiding what he was up to,’ Angelo says. ‘Why would he say anything?’
‘You told me the waste was removed after Dad’s death. How could that happen without management’s knowledge? I was there! I saw the topsoil, the grasses. The drums had been buried but they’d leaked. I sank into muck up to my knees.’
‘Even if that happened, and I’m not saying it did,’ Angelo says, ‘there’s nothing to see for it now.’
‘You said “I’d seen for myself” that the waste was no longer there, so it must have been close to where I parked my car. My father had no idea it was there—unlike whoever dumped it and whoever came to take it away.’
Lucas is pacing. ‘I didn’t know anything!’
Angelo steps forward. ‘That’ll do, Lucas.’
Lucas stops with a jerk and then, fists tightly clenched and head down, he half walks, half runs to the door.
‘Wait!’ I skirt around the bench to cut him off. ‘Dad came to you, didn’t he? He asked you about what he’d seen that weekend.’
Lucas holds up his hands. ‘How would you—’
‘She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’ Angelo says. ‘Keep your trap shut.’
‘No one knew I had Dad’s film until I told Aiden Lyon about it. He said Lucas was the only person he told. It was after that that the break-ins started.’
Lucas turns to Angelo. ‘I told you not to tell anyone!’
Angelo spits as he speaks. ‘Shut up!’
‘She knows!’
‘She’s winding you up!’
‘I hadn’t talked to Angelo for years, but I had to tell someone.’ Lucas’s voice peters out. ‘I didn’t break into your house. I know nothing about any of that.’
Angelo throws his hands in the air. ‘You’re on your own. I never heard from you.’
‘You said you’d deal with it! You said it would go away!’ Lucas picks up a piece of leather, agitatedly turning it in his hands before throwing it back on the bench.
‘It was you and not Dad who was getting the kickbacks, wasn’t it, Lucas? You’ve hidden the truth for all these years.’
‘I thought it was a one-off, that I’d turn a blind eye, and then it would be over.’ Lucas’s eyes are on Angelo. ‘That’s what he told me. But that’s not what happened.’
When Angelo dives, grabbing Lucas by the arm and pulling him towards the door, Lucas trips and falls before scrabbling upright again. Angelo hits out and punches Lucas in the mouth.
‘Stop it!’ When I grab Angelo’s arm, he shoves me away. My hip hits the corner of the workbench, I stagger backwards and—
Lucas hovers over me, in and out of focus. ‘You’ve killed her!’
‘Bullshit.’ Angelo pushes Lucas out of the way and peers into my face. ‘Mac?’
The concrete is hard under my head. Keith Urban licks my hand. Angelo is still belligerent, and backs away as I scrabble sideways, grab the bench and pull myself to my feet. Lucas, his face pale, holds his jacket against his lip.
‘Tell me what happened.’ I take deep breaths, order my thoughts.
Lucas lifts the jacket from his mouth, stares at the blood. ‘Sam wanted to give me the chance to tell my side of the story before he went to the police. He called me on Monday night, and we arranged to meet on Tuesday.’ Lucas glances at Angelo. ‘I told Angelo about it; he made a suggestion.’
Angelo kicks a milk crate and tips it onto its side. ‘This is bullshit.’
‘You met on the road to the national park, didn’t you?’
‘Up at the lay-by.’ His voice roughens. ‘Near the park entrance.’
Angelo swipes the side of his hand across his throat. ‘You’re dead to me.’
Lucas links his fingers, pulls them apart. ‘She knows.’
Angelo thumps the bench with a fist. ‘She doesn’t!’
I hang onto the bench, plant my feet firmly. ‘Go on, Lucas.’
‘Sam and I had arranged to meet at midday but he was running late. He’d got a letter from lawyers and he was in a state.’ Lucas rubs his head. ‘Sam always needed money, that day was no different. When we talked, I told him I’d get the site cleaned up and, in exchange for him keeping quiet about what he’d found, I’d give him a gift.’
‘I mean it.’ Angelo throws his hands in the air. ‘You’re on your own.’
‘It was your plan!’ Lucas’s voice breaks. ‘You told me to pay Sam for his silence!’
‘He already suspected that’s what you’d do! And he was tempted!’
‘I have to get this straight.’ My mouth is dry; it hurts to swallow. ‘Dad wasn’t getting kickbacks, it was you.’
Lucas points a shaky finger at Angelo. ‘He set it up. He arranged it all.’
Angelo’s face is contorted. ‘Listen to yourself!’
‘If Sam had taken the money we offered, it wouldn’t have happened.’ Lucas stares at his hands as if he doesn’t recognise them. ‘He’d still be alive.’
‘Lucas!’ Angelo lunges for Lucas, grabs his jacket, spits words into his face. ‘Shut the fuck up!’
When Keith Urban lowers his head and growls, Angelo releases Lucas before shoving him in the chest. Lucas staggers, hits the bench and crumples to the ground. He presses his hands against his eyes.
‘Your mother was after Sam and the saddlery was already mortgaged.’ When a truck changes gear on the road outside, the doors rattle. Lucas looks up briefly before his gaze goes back to his hands. ‘Sam was tempted to take the money, but he said he needed time. He insisted he needed to get away to think. I gave him ten minutes. I told him if he didn’t come back to me within that period, I’d put the money into his account and that’d be the end of it. He took off on his bike like the devil was after him.’
‘No …’ I swallow down light-headedness, rub against my temple. ‘No.’
‘I was on the phone to you, wasn’t I, Angelo? Telling you how I thought he’d take the money and keep quiet.’ Lucas talks in a monotone. ‘How long would it have been? We thought we’d sorted it out.’
Angelo raises a fist. ‘Keep me out of this.’
Lucas, pressing his fingers into his eyes, rocks back and forth. ‘I got into my car and took a bend down the hill as Sam took the same bend up. I had nowhere to go and neither did he. There was no time to brake. Sam lost control …’
‘You didn’t stop.’ I swipe away tears. ‘How could you do that?’
Lucas crosses himself. ‘It was too late. It was done.’
‘You didn’t know that!’
‘He flew off his bike and went headfirst into a tree …’ Lucas bangs his forehead against his knees. ‘I knew it, I knew it.’
‘It’s why you stayed away from Grandpa. You couldn’t face him.’
Lucas looks up, points a shaky finger at Angelo. ‘He said he’d tidy things up. He’d get rid of the waste and make things right.’
‘Dad was dead.’ I wipe my nose on my sleeve. ‘That was convenient for you, wasn’t it, Angelo? You and your dodgy mates set this up and Lucas got kickbacks for letting it happen. But if anyone had ever found out about the waste, you would have had someone to blame, someone unable to defend themselves. That card was kept up your sleeve for thirteen years.’
‘If you hadn’t found that film,’ Angelo says accusingly, ‘we could’ve left the past in the past where it belongs.’
‘You sent Joseph to the saddlery, didn’t you?’
‘How stupid do you think I am?’ His laugh is humourless. ‘He just happened to be the one to put his hand up.’
‘He told me he’d heard about the job at the gym. Was it Joseph’s arrest that brought you back to Summerfield? Were you afraid the police would work out the connection between your families?’
‘Just like I said, I’ve never met the idiot. There’s nothing to trace any of this back to me.’
‘Joseph had failed to get the film, so you approached me yourself.’
‘There’s no crime in that.’ His smile is nasty. ‘Besides which, this is all your word against mine. If you go to the police, I’ll stick to my story. Sam was taking kickbacks, he was threatened with exposure, he topped himself.’
‘Lucas.’ I step back, distance myself from Angelo. ‘You have to go to the police. You have to tell them everything that happened, everything that’s been said today.’
He wraps his arms around his knees. A muffled word. ‘Yes.’
‘You bloody fool!’ When Angelo, emitting a string of curses, skirts around Lucas and heads for the door, I grab a saddletree from the shelf and block his exit.
‘Aiden! Get the police!’
Angelo follows my gaze to the row of bottles lined up on the highest shelf. He won’t be able to see my phone, but he doesn’t have to. His eyes are wild; he’s white around the mouth.
‘You little bitch!’
When I shove the saddletree into his stomach, he grabs it and twists, pushing it away. I rush at him again, swinging the tree wide before whacking him in the side. He stumbles and staggers, hitting the wall as I swing the tree again. Spluttering in outrage, he kicks out.
‘Bitch!’
As Keith Urban whines and jumps around, Angelo kicks again, catching my shin. He grabs my arm and yanks.
A siren sounds. A car pulls up. Another car. Doors slam. Shouts. Footsteps. Suddenly dizzy, I grasp the bench with both hands and slide to the floor.
‘Mackenzie!’
Grandpa calls me Mackenzie, but that’s not Grandpa’s voice.