the personality clashes—but he disliked the too-frequent meetings and despised the overdeveloped bureaucracy.
'You say she is contrite?' Burton, a pale creature, seemed to regard Dunlop's still-fresh north Queensland tan with suspicion.
Dunlop was willing to play the fencing game a little longer. 'Very.'
Peters arranged three pencils on the table in atriangle. 'The CCA are dithering. We've indicated to them that Mrs Belfante's evidence is . . . ah, suspect. One faction wishes to drop the case against Belfante and Frost, another holds that the physical evidence is sufficient to proceed.'
The meeting had been going on for almost an hour and Dunlop's head was spinning as the desk men simply restated the facts in different words, adding and subtracting emphases. He was an underling who hadn't carried out his tasks satisfactorily. Low man on the totem pole. Only there as a conduit of information, or so they would have him think. His patience gave out and he expressed it by snapping a pencil in half. That got their attention.
'They can't proceed,' he said. 'If it comes to the point, Ava will alibi Belfante and Frost. She'll admit they were with her and that she planted the evidence.'
'She might not be believed,' Peters murmured.
'You don't know Ava,' Dunlop said. 'She's impressive. A jury'd believe her.'
Burton poured a glass of water. 'And she'd do this in spite of the fact that her husband put out a contract on her?'
'There's no proof of that.'
Burton sipped. 'It's highly likely.'
'She's confused about a lot of things.'
Peters could not resist his impulse for tidiness. He reached across and collected the pieces of broken pencil, arranging them neatly. 'She faces perjury and public nuisance charges. A lot of money has been wasted on her.'
Burton nodded. The nod seemed to imply that much of the responsibility for the waste wasDunlop's. 'She must be made to see that she is in an invidious situation.'
'She wouldn't understand what that means,' Dunlop said. 'I'm not sure that I do, either. I've listened for an hour. Can I say something?'
Neither Burton nor Peters spoke and Dunlop went on regardless. He said, 'Ava's willing to be a bait. She's willing to do that for having caused so much trouble for us.'
Peters snorted. 'In return for an indemnity against her own prosecution, you mean.'
Dunlop shrugged. 'The guy that went after her will come again. He
has
to. She saw him. When the word gets around that she can identify him, he tries again and we get him.'
'Escapadism,' Burton said. 'How does it profit us?'
'We catch him and he tells us who hired him—almost certainly Belfante and Frost, as you said. The go-between was probably Belfante's lawyer, Reuben. We net him, too.'
Burton shook his head but Peters leaned forward interestedly. 'Are you suggesting we mount this as an NBCI operation?'
'Why not?' Dunlop said.
'Because if it goes wrong,' Burton said, 'we are in the shit with the New South Wales authorities.'
'And if it goes right,' Dunlop insisted, 'we deliver them a neat package of bastards—two organised crime figures, a crooked lawyer and a hit man.'
'Point,' Peters said, looking at Burton. 'And we could use the prestige in these straitened times. The new administration in Canberra is in cost-cutting mode. You said so yourself.'
Burton's negative expression did not change. Heparticularly disliked having his own statements used against him.
Dunlop took a tape recorder from his pocket, placed it on the table and pressed the PLAY button. Ava's tearful, distressed voice was loud in the quiet room:
'He knew I was lying about Vance.
'
'What?
'
'I said I didn't know who killed Rankin. I thought that was what he was on about. But it wasn't. He laughed He
knew
I was lying about the evidence . . .
'
'You see,' Dunlop said. 'He
knew
she was lying. How did he know? Maybe because
he
killed Rankin.'
'Ah,' Burton said. 'Yes, that does make quite a difference, Mr Dunlop.'
Peters smiled. 'Officially, she'll no
'You say she is contrite?' Burton, a pale creature, seemed to regard Dunlop's still-fresh north Queensland tan with suspicion.
Dunlop was willing to play the fencing game a little longer. 'Very.'
Peters arranged three pencils on the table in atriangle. 'The CCA are dithering. We've indicated to them that Mrs Belfante's evidence is . . . ah, suspect. One faction wishes to drop the case against Belfante and Frost, another holds that the physical evidence is sufficient to proceed.'
The meeting had been going on for almost an hour and Dunlop's head was spinning as the desk men simply restated the facts in different words, adding and subtracting emphases. He was an underling who hadn't carried out his tasks satisfactorily. Low man on the totem pole. Only there as a conduit of information, or so they would have him think. His patience gave out and he expressed it by snapping a pencil in half. That got their attention.
'They can't proceed,' he said. 'If it comes to the point, Ava will alibi Belfante and Frost. She'll admit they were with her and that she planted the evidence.'
'She might not be believed,' Peters murmured.
'You don't know Ava,' Dunlop said. 'She's impressive. A jury'd believe her.'
Burton poured a glass of water. 'And she'd do this in spite of the fact that her husband put out a contract on her?'
'There's no proof of that.'
Burton sipped. 'It's highly likely.'
'She's confused about a lot of things.'
Peters could not resist his impulse for tidiness. He reached across and collected the pieces of broken pencil, arranging them neatly. 'She faces perjury and public nuisance charges. A lot of money has been wasted on her.'
Burton nodded. The nod seemed to imply that much of the responsibility for the waste wasDunlop's. 'She must be made to see that she is in an invidious situation.'
'She wouldn't understand what that means,' Dunlop said. 'I'm not sure that I do, either. I've listened for an hour. Can I say something?'
Neither Burton nor Peters spoke and Dunlop went on regardless. He said, 'Ava's willing to be a bait. She's willing to do that for having caused so much trouble for us.'
Peters snorted. 'In return for an indemnity against her own prosecution, you mean.'
Dunlop shrugged. 'The guy that went after her will come again. He
has
to. She saw him. When the word gets around that she can identify him, he tries again and we get him.'
'Escapadism,' Burton said. 'How does it profit us?'
'We catch him and he tells us who hired him—almost certainly Belfante and Frost, as you said. The go-between was probably Belfante's lawyer, Reuben. We net him, too.'
Burton shook his head but Peters leaned forward interestedly. 'Are you suggesting we mount this as an NBCI operation?'
'Why not?' Dunlop said.
'Because if it goes wrong,' Burton said, 'we are in the shit with the New South Wales authorities.'
'And if it goes right,' Dunlop insisted, 'we deliver them a neat package of bastards—two organised crime figures, a crooked lawyer and a hit man.'
'Point,' Peters said, looking at Burton. 'And we could use the prestige in these straitened times. The new administration in Canberra is in cost-cutting mode. You said so yourself.'
Burton's negative expression did not change. Heparticularly disliked having his own statements used against him.
Dunlop took a tape recorder from his pocket, placed it on the table and pressed the PLAY button. Ava's tearful, distressed voice was loud in the quiet room:
'He knew I was lying about Vance.
'
'What?
'
'I said I didn't know who killed Rankin. I thought that was what he was on about. But it wasn't. He laughed He
knew
I was lying about the evidence . . .
'
'You see,' Dunlop said. 'He
knew
she was lying. How did he know? Maybe because
he
killed Rankin.'
'Ah,' Burton said. 'Yes, that does make quite a difference, Mr Dunlop.'
Peters smiled. 'Officially, she'll no
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