Direct Action. J D Svenson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: J D Svenson
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Политические детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781922198396
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      ‘I’ll do this on two conditions,’ Cressida said, ignoring Sandra’s surprised look and the slight, incredulous smile that sprang to Michael’s mouth. Yes that’s right, she thought. It’s not all up to you now. ‘First, I keep the road project, unless and until I tell you it’s too much. Second, you reschedule the partnership vote within a fortnight. And,’ she said, marshalling courage, ‘I get it.’ And don’t give me any crap about how it’s democratic, she thought. I know you two are the numbers guys. Except for those two in Melbourne. I don’t know what’s up with them. ‘Otherwise, well, I’m …’ – she took a deep breath; eleven years – ‘I’m looking elsewhere.’

      Michael’s eyes widened and his jaw twitched, and for a moment something flashed across his face. It was a look she hadn’t seen there before. Respect. Brian, however, was looking decidedly dark.

      ‘Cressida, come on,’ he said.

      ‘I’m sorry, Brian, I mean it. You talk about how hard it is to live things down in the law. Well I’m sick and tired of being judged in my father’s shadow. It’s time this firm gave me the value I deserve.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Sandra began, in a voice that said she was anything but, ‘I thought we would have the instructing solicitor here. You three work that out, and whoever it is, get them to this woman as soon as the power’s back on. We need things while they’re fresh.’ Cressida flushed in embarrassment at Sandra’s tone, but kept her gaze on Michael. They couldn’t refuse her, she thought – they’d already told her everything. How could they disagree?

      ‘I’ll organise it,’ Michael said, quietly.

      ‘I’ll call around and see if I can find out where she is,’ said Brian. ‘Then you can get in to see her tomorrow, either Silverwater or Lithgow, probably.’

      Of course he was in a hurry, it was his daughter, Cressida thought. But rushing around and doing things in a panic wouldn’t make things happen any quicker. Anyway most of the scheduling would be up to the prosecution.

      ‘Uh-uh,’ said Sandra. ‘That won’t be happening.’

      ‘What? Why?’

      ‘All Corrections is in lockdown until the power’s back on. You can imagine the security issues.’ She sighed and drained her coffee. ‘The prisons have generators, of course, but everything’s being run on the absolute minimum. Your daughter is going to be twiddling her thumbs for a little while yet.’ She smiled. ‘Ironic, really. Well, gentlemen, Cressida,’ she said, standing. ‘If that’s all?’

      ‘But,’ Cressida interrupted, a thousand thoughts flying around her brain at once, ‘but what about—’ What about the conflict of interest? ‘Oh nothing,’ she said, stupidly. ‘Ms Crane, I’ll let you know when I get in to see her. And you can expect a full brief twenty-four hours later. I’ll add the police brief when we get it.’

      ‘Excellent,’ Sandra said, standing up.

      As Michael showed Sandra out Cressida sat, shaky with adrenaline aftershock. She turned to Brian. ‘Brian,’ she ventured. ‘This is a huge fucking conflict. Don’t you need to ask SinoGen? And get the rest of the Partners’ okay, for that matter?’

      Brian looked at her. ‘No, I don’t, Cressida. Never been a better application of the phrase Chinese walls, I would have thought. SinoGen is not your client. They’re not even mine. They’re Richard’s. There’s no problem. Oh and Cressida,’ Brian said, as she started for the stairs.

      She stopped, her hand on the balustrade. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Is Hannes Swartling listed as your contact on the Law Society website? Maybe amend that – your name will be on the court papers …’

      Cressida frowned. He was really serious about this confidentiality thing.

      ‘Sure. Do you want this?’ She held out the printout. Brian shook his head.

      ‘It’s okay. I’ll get another. Her name’s Fairbank,’ he added. ‘Joanne Fairbank. She … she took her mother’s name when we split up.’

      ‘Ok,’ said Cressida. ‘Thanks.’

      Downstairs at the sink as she poured the rest of her cold tea down the drain, Cressida leant against the counter and looked out at the pool, feeling disembodied. Across the room Pip was sitting on one of the bench seats tapping into her laptop. Cress folded up the article and slipped it in her handbag, then approached her.

      ‘Hey,’ Pip said when she saw Cressida. ‘I’ve got all the EOI precedents on a zip folder now. So if you email me the tenderer list, I can start filling them … Hang on. You’re paler than the lychees in my martini last night,’ she observed, eyes narrowed. ‘What’s up?’

      ‘What? Oh. No. Nothing. That sounds good. Yes. Um. I have to talk to Esma about a couple of things, quickly, and then …’

      ‘Cressida? You’re acting really weird,’ said Pip, frowning.

      ‘Really?’ She brightened her tone, smiling. ‘No, I’m just thinking about the road project. Oh, Brian just gave me a new file, but it shouldn’t take long.’

      ‘Brian did?’ said Pip, eyes homing in on Cressida. ‘What, in M & A?’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Criminal, of all things.’

      ‘Criminal? You’re kidding,’ Pip said. ‘But what do you know about that?’

      Cressida looked at her. ‘My thoughts exactly.’

      11

      The cafeteria at Randwick Private was air-conditioned and crowded with a two to one ratio of health workers to civilians when Cressida pushed through its heavy double doors that night. Among the pale green of the orderlies and purple of the nurses, Felipe stood out as one of the few in surgical dark blue. He was still wearing his cap, and she slid it off his head as she sat down.

      ‘Sweetheart.’

      He turned and crushed her in a hug, tipping her face up for a kiss, then turned her bodily to face the overhead menu a few tables down. ‘Now look. There’s no chilli prawns I’m afraid,’ he said, looking chagrined, ‘but they do have …’ – he paused for effect – ‘keftedes.’

      ‘Ohh,’ she said, imagining. ‘Not today. I’m keeping with the juice diet for the moment.’

      He kissed her forehead.

      ‘You’re so disciplined. They might have just the ticket. Let’s see.’

      They queued and Cressida ordered a spinach and kale juice, Felipe the Caesar salad and a bottle of water for each of them.

      ‘How was surgery?’ she said as they sat down. ‘Better now you have your instruments?’

      ‘A success, thank God,’ he said, stabbing a chunk of bacon. ‘Thank God I’m done muddling through on the hospital kit. The lights flickered twice and we all held our breath, but everything stayed on. We had to get in and out quick smart though – there’s only one theatre on the genny, apparently,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘So I just did the metatarsal – the other two ops will have to wait till the power’s back. I’m going to have to talk to the president about better emergency backup for this place.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s just unacceptable.’

      Cressida took a long, character-building suck of her smoothie. Yep. Foul. She regarded Felipe. He’d been grumbling about the presidency of the Australian Orthopaedic Association for the entire six months they’d been dating. Since the news about the standing down of the president, all he’d talked about was the election of a new one.

      ‘Any word on candidates? How’s the field looking?’

      Felipe looked glum. ‘Mark was trying again to convince me to