your guard would need a strong stomach. Most people chuck their guts up first time out on a trawler.’
‘No problem. The guard would blend right in.’ Lawson crossed his ankles. Ellie knew with a stab of certainty he himself would hand-pick the delivery jock. Everything about those boots screamed ‘man in control’.
‘Right, right. Well there’s still this fucking stupid opposition to the development. They’ve got a rally tomorrow afternoon and bloody Ellie Wilding’s back in town. I told you about her already. She and her sister have always been troublemakers, even as teenagers.’
‘Yeah?’ Lawson sounded surprised. ‘They did some outstanding coverage on the war in Afghanistan before the older one died.’ Ellie’s ears pricked up. It sounded as though he already knew her and Nina.
‘Always happy, provided they’re peddling a cause. Parents were the same. Fuckin’ hippies. Be grateful Tom’s not here or he’d be beating the drum as well. Spent time in that fuckin’ tent embassy at Old Parliament House in the seventies when he was a journalist covering the blackfellas’ land rights.’
‘That right? Balls run in the family then.’
‘Ha. Bad politics run in the family.’
‘So you think you can get it through despite the objections?’
‘Bloody right I can.’ Ellie watched O’Sullivan’s pants jerk up his ankles and knew he must have heaved them defiantly over his vast stomach. ‘I’ve got the dirt on enough councillors to do whatever it takes. And I paid for half their campaigns. I own this shire.’
‘Okay.’ Nicholas straightened up. ‘Get back to me about the trawler ride and I’ll line up the cash. Good doing business, O’Sullivan.’
Ellie watched as O’Sullivan moved to shake hands. There was no doubt that Nicholas Lawson was in control.
The voices subsided as the two men went out the door and Ellie stretched her leg out, rubbing the cramp from her muscle. They never said drugs, but everything else pointed to it. Next week, four days. She didn’t have much time. Would it be better to just try to convince the authorities? Was it already on someone’s radar? It sounded like a sophisticated operation to be washing money via drugs and local government. None of it made sense. She’d need to learn more about money laundering as well as council by-laws. Big call in a few days.
She backed out from under the table, mulling over the choices. They needed to get the team together urgently. Maybe this afternoon? She felt a rush of air on her back as the door behind her opened again. Oh, shit. All she could do was rock back on her heels and scramble to her feet, trying to be graceful and failing in her haste.
The expression on Nicholas Lawson’s suntanned face was inscrutable. The blood pounded in her ears, sounding like the roar of the ocean. She broke the silence, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘Hello, again. You do get around.’ Her words fell flat in the big room and she had to stop herself wiping sweaty palms down her pants.
‘Normally hide under tables, do you?’
His voice rasped and her heart rate ratcheted up another notch. She reached for her leather bag. ‘What? Under tables? Oh, that.’ She gestured at the floor and the connection hub. ‘I’m just checking out the facilities for my presentation on Monday. I’ve forgotten to bring my cables, though, so I’m still not sure. Silly me.’ She was babbling and knew it.
His hard laugh had the fine hairs on her arms lifting.
‘Silly me,’ he mimicked. ‘Wouldn’t have been trying to eavesdrop, would you, because that could be very dangerous. And stupid.’ Nick leant back against a table and crossed his ankles again. Her fingers itched for her camera. His was a stern face; all angles and hollows, with a full bottom lip.
She tossed her head, embarrassment making her reckless. ‘Democracies are supposed to have open and accountable governance. Any discussions between developers and elected officials should
‘No problem. The guard would blend right in.’ Lawson crossed his ankles. Ellie knew with a stab of certainty he himself would hand-pick the delivery jock. Everything about those boots screamed ‘man in control’.
‘Right, right. Well there’s still this fucking stupid opposition to the development. They’ve got a rally tomorrow afternoon and bloody Ellie Wilding’s back in town. I told you about her already. She and her sister have always been troublemakers, even as teenagers.’
‘Yeah?’ Lawson sounded surprised. ‘They did some outstanding coverage on the war in Afghanistan before the older one died.’ Ellie’s ears pricked up. It sounded as though he already knew her and Nina.
‘Always happy, provided they’re peddling a cause. Parents were the same. Fuckin’ hippies. Be grateful Tom’s not here or he’d be beating the drum as well. Spent time in that fuckin’ tent embassy at Old Parliament House in the seventies when he was a journalist covering the blackfellas’ land rights.’
‘That right? Balls run in the family then.’
‘Ha. Bad politics run in the family.’
‘So you think you can get it through despite the objections?’
‘Bloody right I can.’ Ellie watched O’Sullivan’s pants jerk up his ankles and knew he must have heaved them defiantly over his vast stomach. ‘I’ve got the dirt on enough councillors to do whatever it takes. And I paid for half their campaigns. I own this shire.’
‘Okay.’ Nicholas straightened up. ‘Get back to me about the trawler ride and I’ll line up the cash. Good doing business, O’Sullivan.’
Ellie watched as O’Sullivan moved to shake hands. There was no doubt that Nicholas Lawson was in control.
The voices subsided as the two men went out the door and Ellie stretched her leg out, rubbing the cramp from her muscle. They never said drugs, but everything else pointed to it. Next week, four days. She didn’t have much time. Would it be better to just try to convince the authorities? Was it already on someone’s radar? It sounded like a sophisticated operation to be washing money via drugs and local government. None of it made sense. She’d need to learn more about money laundering as well as council by-laws. Big call in a few days.
She backed out from under the table, mulling over the choices. They needed to get the team together urgently. Maybe this afternoon? She felt a rush of air on her back as the door behind her opened again. Oh, shit. All she could do was rock back on her heels and scramble to her feet, trying to be graceful and failing in her haste.
The expression on Nicholas Lawson’s suntanned face was inscrutable. The blood pounded in her ears, sounding like the roar of the ocean. She broke the silence, her gaze sliding away from his. ‘Hello, again. You do get around.’ Her words fell flat in the big room and she had to stop herself wiping sweaty palms down her pants.
‘Normally hide under tables, do you?’
His voice rasped and her heart rate ratcheted up another notch. She reached for her leather bag. ‘What? Under tables? Oh, that.’ She gestured at the floor and the connection hub. ‘I’m just checking out the facilities for my presentation on Monday. I’ve forgotten to bring my cables, though, so I’m still not sure. Silly me.’ She was babbling and knew it.
His hard laugh had the fine hairs on her arms lifting.
‘Silly me,’ he mimicked. ‘Wouldn’t have been trying to eavesdrop, would you, because that could be very dangerous. And stupid.’ Nick leant back against a table and crossed his ankles again. Her fingers itched for her camera. His was a stern face; all angles and hollows, with a full bottom lip.
She tossed her head, embarrassment making her reckless. ‘Democracies are supposed to have open and accountable governance. Any discussions between developers and elected officials should
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