Smoking Gun (Adam Cartwright Trilogy Book 1) (22 page)

BOOK: Smoking Gun (Adam Cartwright Trilogy Book 1)
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Christine shook her head. “We can’t deny that that is a possibility. Perhaps we are both wrong and it was just a couple of lovers in a hurry. But somehow I don’t believe it. Farfetched as it seems, I believe that someone has just tried to kill you. For the second time.”

I slapped my desk in frustration and said, “Here I am, again the victim of a failed murder attempt and I have no real evidence to support a complaint to the police.”

Christine chipped in with a comment. “But, at least this time, the police might be a bit more inclined to listen to you if you told them about the Comancheros involvement in the construction fraud and that you are a ‘person of interest’ to them.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head before responding. “But that could complicate matters for the Crime and Corruption Commission as their involvement has been highly confidential. It is probably best if I could leave it to the Commission to decide when their investigation is made public.”

“So you will report the hit-and-run to the Commission then?”

I made a decision. “Yes. I won’t report today’s incident to the police, but I will record a statement and include the relevant sections of the webcam video in a report to Toni Swan at the Crime and Corruption Commission.

Christine nodded. “Good. I don’t think that you have any other option really.”

She was right. I agreed with her.

***

When Christine had first entered my office the previous day she had been impressed by the critical path diagrams that completely took up all the space on one wall. One of the diagrams was about two metres wide and a metre and a half in height. It showed all the major activities for the entire project.

The diagrams were a little old school but still served a useful purpose even though I normally relied on a computer screen for the latest update. 

Today Christine pointed across at the diagrams and asked, “Critical Path Diagram. I have a vague idea what it’s about. Why don’t you tell me about what all those lines looking like spaghetti mean.”

I grinned. I suspected that she was just trying to change the subject from the hit-and-run but I was happy to oblige. “Just imagine all the thousands of activities in a project like this. Well, every activity is dependent on the completion of another activity, or activities, that precede it. Those diagrams show the major activities from the start to the completion of the project. The circles show the activity’s duration and its start and finish dates. The lines show the dependence of one activity on another. For example, steelwork can’t be erected until after the foundations are completed. The continuous red line zigzagging from the start to the completion is the critical path. The red line identifies activities that if delayed will delay the completion date of the project. This Critical Path Diagram is the key to planning the project so that it will be completed in the shortest possible time.”

Christine walked across to the wall and examined the large diagram more closely. Turning to me she asked, “Keeping track of all these activities is a lot of work. For it to be useful it must have to be kept up to date.”

I nodded. “You are absolutely right. I have a planner engaged full time monitoring the progress of all activities. It is his only job and he does it well. I am probably more addicted to critical path analysis than most construction managers but it works well for me. In fact, addicted is probably quite an apt description of my relationship to the critical path method. I have even developed a computer program that analyses the trend in non-critical activities to see if that are at risk of becoming critical. It’s a sort of early warning system.”

She walked back to my desk and sat down again in a chair facing me. “Computer programs. Tell me about your interest in computer programs.”

I shrugged. “Most people that work on a remote site like this need something to do when they are not working. Many relax by resorting to drink, gambling or using drugs. Others might pursue more cerebral activities such as learning a language, playing computer chess, becoming crossword fanatics, reading and even writing. I am in the latter group. I relax by writing computer programs. Usually programs that have some application in my work. I enjoy it. I get real satisfaction from developing useful programs.”

There was a brief amiable silence before I again spoke. “Christine, I have been wondering if we shouldn’t go for a drive and see if we can find any evidence of the hit-and-run vehicle.”

“What do you have in mind? They’ll be long gone.”

“I thought that we might find where they waited for me. They might have left tracks. Anyway we may be able to prove that at least it was possible for them to watch the road and not be seen. We have the time before you get cleaned up for the trip back to Sydney.”

Christine jumped to her feet. “Let’s go.”

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I’m right behind you Nancy!”

She stopped and looked at me, momentarily puzzled. “Nancy?”

I grinned. “Yes. Nancy Drewe. The girl detective. Friend of the Hardy Boys.”

Christine grinned. “Which one are you? Frank or Joe?”

***

We found the point where a vehicle had turned off from the road to the mine at our first pass. Driving at a slow speed on the wrong side of the road it was easy to spot the tracks heading towards the mine and turning off to the south. While they were clearly seen they might not remain like that for much longer as it looked like a rain shower could eventuate later in the day.

After pausing to take some photographs with my cell phone we then continued following the rough narrow track for about three hundred metres until we reached a small relatively clear, slightly elevated area. Tracks of a vehicle could be seen turning off the track and doing a three point turn to face the direction that it had come from.

We stopped where we were on the track and walked across to where the previous vehicle had turned around. Standing there we looked back towards the mine site. Lookout Hill was clearly visible as was the roadway coming from the mine. It was obvious to both of us. A vehicle had parked here since the previous afternoon as yesterday morning’s rain showers would have washed the tracks away had they been made earlier.

Also, anyone observed jogging from the mine site around sun rise would have been easily sighted while the observer was obscured by the surrounding scrub and invisible against the brightening sky. Christine slowly exhaled and exclaimed. “Well, that clinches it for me. There was someone here this morning and they could have easily seen you from here, jogging along the road from the mine.”

Looking at the ground I responded pointing at a cluster of cigarette butts. “And that someone was a smoker.”

“Make that two smokers. If Nancy Drewe was here she would probably conclude that two people sat here smoking and dropping cigarette butts outside their vehicle.” Christine added pointing at a second scatter of cigarette butts a few metres away from the first.

I chuckled. “I reckon that Nancy Drewe would be right on the mark.” I stopped talking and looked at the sky. “It’s going to rain soon. All this will be washed away. I’ll get some Ziploc plastic sample bags from my vehicle and collect some cigarette butts.”

Five minutes later I had collected the samples, taken photographs and we were on our way back to the mine site road. Once we got to the road way we turned right, heading further from the mine site, to find the place where the hit-and-run had occurred. We had no trouble locating the right spot. Tyre tracks were clearly visible swerving onto the right hand shoulder of the road and then back onto the road carriageway narrowly missing a culvert. Christine Pointed and exclaimed. “Look. The vehicle nearly ended up hitting the culvert.”

She was right. It looked like the culvert might have saved me. After taking some more photographs we set off to return to the mine site.

On our way back to my office I outlined a plan. I would assemble and email a report to Toni Swan at the Commission while Christine got packed and ready for the flight back to Cairns. As I was talking, Christine had been looking thoughtfully at the sleeves of her shirt and eventually asked, “Is there any chance of me keeping this shirt and trousers? I can pay for them.”

I responded immediately. “No problem. Please keep them. I should have explained earlier, they are not returnable. They have been charged to me.”

“But…”

“Sorry, no buts. I insist. I want you to keep them. Perhaps they will be a souvenir to remind you of your visit here.”

She hesitated and said, “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then she smiled brightly and added. “As if I’ll need a reminder.”

***

I had just completed emailing my report of the hit-and-run to Toni Swan when there was a knock on my door and Christine entered carrying her overnight bag. She was wearing the khaki denim shirt and trousers with the shirt unbuttoned, the bottom flaps tied loosely in the front and the collar upturned. Underneath the denim shirt was a red tee shirt topped off with a white neckerchief elegantly tied at the side. She had replaced the jogging shoes that she had been wearing earlier with black ankle-length boots.

She looked absolutely stunning.

It was soon clear that it was not only me that was impressed by her beauty and elegance. As we walked across to my vehicle to drive to the airstrip everyone that we passed stopped and stared after us.

***

Standing together at the Cairns Airport the wait for her flight to Sydney was all too short. No sooner had she checked in than her flight was called.

As I leaned across to kiss her on the cheek she turned away. Before I could react she said, “Adam Cartwright, you are not getting off that easily.” Then moving close against me she put her arms around me, placed her lips on mine and kissed me passionately.

I did not object. In fact I responded instantly and whole-heartedly.

 

***

Monday January 11
Red Rock Project Site

It came as a surprise when I received a phone call from Toni Swan. I had all but forgotten the email that I had sent to the Commission a week earlier. Almost all project activity had ceased from Christmas Day until the New Year. The immediate focus was on project activities on the critical path. Last week most of those had resumed, today saw the remainder of those critical activities back on line. Next week would see all activities, critical and non-critical, in hand and the workforce at full strength. Even though there had been less than the peak number of workers on site during the past week, every activity was on the critical path and got my full attention.

After a brief exchange of season’s greetings and comments about rainy holidays she said, “Your email about the hit-and-run was received last week but I was on holiday and it wasn’t passed on to me. But, please bring me up to speed. How are you handling things?”

“Well, there have been no further incidents. Even so, I no longer go jogging along the main road. I now confine myself to tracks and hills within the mine site.”

“Just how secure is the site?”

“There is only one significant road to the mine.  It ends at the main gate, on the eastern boundary, where we have a gatekeeper who logs all the comings and goings. There is a security fence along the eastern boundary. The other three sides have cattle fences with gates that are normally padlocked. There is 4WD access to the cattle fences but they are checked from time to time for unlawful entry. All the security fencing is the responsibility of the mine owners.”

“Have you thought of quitting the project? Leaving Queensland. It might be safer for you.”

“No. Now that you ask. I realise that it’s never even crossed my mind.”

“So, what do you think about it now?”

I didn’t even hesitate. “No. Not a possibility. I will see this project through, come what may. I’m not going to run away. In any case, since I don’t know what has been the motivation for the two attacks, I may still be in danger and be even more vulnerable.”

After a short silence she responded, “We thought that you might think like that. You are right when you say that you might still be in danger. We can’t even advise you in this matter.”

“Has the Commission reported it to the police yet?”

“Not the hit-and-run. I wanted to talk to you first. We passed your report of the first incident to the police before Christmas. We have just been told that it has been handed from the Cairns CIB to the Townsville CIB so you may receive some inquiries from them. We will pass your report of the hit-and-run to the police later today.”

“Do you still believe that the attacks are not connected to the fraud conspiracy involving the Comancheros?”

“Yes. Our inside man at the Comancheros has reported that there has been no gossip within the bikie gang about the hit-and-run. He claims that they are such a bunch of losers that the guys can’t help themselves. They will brag and talk themselves up at any excuse to the others, even to the extent of fabricating incidents to get attention. No, our guy says that there is little possibility that the Comancheros were involved.”

“What about the Bandidos bikie gang? I have heard that they also have a regional branch in Mareeba.”

“Unlikely. Their interests are drugs and drug-related organised crime. They have wide ranging contacts with the Mareeba mafia including a former local mayor. They seem to have left construction unions, fraud and blackmail to the Comancheros. Our informants in the Mareeba Bandidos have reported no mention of attempted drowning or hit-and-runs.”

“So, what happens next?”

“I can’t tell you much. When the incidents have been passed on to the police, what, if anything, happens next will be up to them.” Then she added ruefully, “Co-operation is not one of their strengths.”

***

That evening I received a Skype video call from Christine. She had received confirmation that the job at the Royal North Shore Hospital was hers and she would start the following Monday. She was happy and I was really pleased for her and joked. “I hope that you drove a hard bargain.”

She laughed and said, “I did. I told them that I would be taking a few days off in May to attend the official opening ceremony of a gold mine in Far North Queensland.” She paused and added. “That is, if I am still invited.”

I grinned. “Invited? As I told you, if the scheduled date is not convenient for you then we will just delay the opening until it suits you.”

Kate and Brian entered the room behind Christine and waved. Kate asked mischievously. “Adam, we haven’t spoken to you since we returned but Christine has kept us up to date. It seems that you two are in contact with each other quite a lot.”

I grinned. “Well, I didn’t want to interrupt you and Brian while you are enjoying your wedded bliss. So Christine kindly offered to keep me up to date with everything.”

Brian snorted. “As if! But on a more serious note, Christine told us about the hit-and-run. Have you heard anything from the Crime and Corruption Commission?”

I responded, “I was just going to tell Christine. I got a call from the head investigator at the Commission.” I then proceeded to relate the conversation with Toni Swan.

 

***

 

BOOK: Smoking Gun (Adam Cartwright Trilogy Book 1)
4.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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