Follow the Money

The only substantial contribution to Sabatini's blog I made was the headline:

IS RICHARD MALOUF STILL ALIVE?

Readers will remember the case of the financial wizard Richard Malouf who managed to spirit away millions ofdollars from his clients' accounts, lose it gambling with figures in the Sydney underworld, and, apparently, die from a gunshot wound in his car. Suicide or murder? The coronial inquiry has yet to sit.

But it may be none of these things. Try faked death. A source close to a certain police task force investigating crime in the Chinese and Lebanese communities has told this writer that Malouf may still be alive. No details are available, other than that there have been as yet unverified 'sightings'. More intriguing are hints that Malouf may not be the real name of the man in question. Questions to be answered: is he alive? If so, who was the dead man in the car and who killed him? And why does this writer get the feeling that in the minds of certain police there are bigger fish to fry than financial juggler, lothario and crack sportsman Richard 'Dicky' Malouf?

Sabatini sent me a draft of the article and I complimented him on it. I'd briefed him fully on my interview with Chang and Ali and I felt he'd struck the right notes.

'You realise,' he said, 'that if your suspicions about this Sergeant Ali are right, it won't matter. Malouf will know exactly how the land lies.'

'When and if he rings I'll try to trip him up on that.' 'What if he doesn't ring?'

'I think he will. People can only play a double game for so long. He might feel safer now that Freddy Wong's out of action but he might not. There could be someone worse in the wings. Same with Houli and Talat; he might think the stakes have gone up for them. A deal with the police, a version of witness protection, not that he'd be willing to bear witness, is his best chance.'

'If the cops play it straight. D'you think they will?'

'No. We have to be on our toes and it gets very complicated if Ali's dirty. Are you worried about getting your story?'

'No. I'm worried about Rosemary. She wants to come back.'

'Tell her not yet.'

'I have.'

'Insist.'

'How much luck have you had at insisting a woman do something she doesn't want to do?'

I told him to be careful, lock his door, stay in company and keep the instant backup number Chang had given me close to hand. It didn't seem likely that Houli would come after us, but it was possible. And Malouf/Habib himself might not make the quiet approach he'd spoken of. We still only had his word that he wasn't involved in the death of the substitute. And what of his school chum on a lonely beach in the far north?

I got a call-waiting signal and rang off, after promising Sabatini I'd contact him immediately if it was our man. It wasn't.

'Cliff,' Megan said, 'what the hell have you been up to?'

Is that what it comes to-your children addressing you the way your parents did?

'The usual,' I said.

'I saw the news and I recognised the house and the Falcon and that was you being bundled into the police car with the coat over your head. Did you shoot that man?'

'No, he shot at me but he missed.'

'You didn't say anything about the case you were on involving men with shotguns.'

'Don't tell me I'm too old for it. I was too old for shotguns twenty years ago. We're all too old for shotguns. There were developments, changes. Things got heavier. The car's a bit of a mess; those pellets bugger up the duco.'

She let out an exasperated sigh. 'Fuck the car. Anyway, you're not up on a charge or anything?'

'No.'

'Is it still dangerous?'

'Could be, but don't worry, I've got allies.'

'You once told me to be wary of allies because they tended to be balanced by enemies.'

'Did I? That sounds glib.'

'It is, but it's good glib. Well, I wanted to tell you that you should call on Hank if you need help. I know I'm going back on what I said before, but I really don't want to be one of those women who stop men from doing what they want to do. I can tell that Hank's bored with the routine stuff and when he saw the news he lit up. He was energised. I prefer him like that and I told him so. Just take care, Cliff, and come and see us when you can.'

'I will. How's everything going?'

'He's kicking.'

'He?'

'Yep, a boy, and he just gave me a bloody great thump.'

Malouf/Habib rang me at noon precisely the following day.

'You took your time,' I said, 'Richard, or is it William?'

He chuckled. 'You've done some homework.'

'Me and others. What made you decide to call? I thought you might have given up on the idea.'

'No, you didn't think that or anything like it. Never mind why, we're here now.'

So much for my notion about tripping him up.

'The police are interested in a deal,' I said, 'under certain conditions, naturally.'

'Naturally, and you're authorised to speak for them? I find that hard to believe.'

'Just at this initial stage, to set the rules, then it'll be out of my hands.'

'Okay, what're the conditions?'

I'd thrashed this out thoroughly with Chang and Ali, trying to guess not only what Malouf/Habib would accept, but what he'd anticipate in a negotiation. I wanted to avoid police-speak, but still get the flavour of a police arrangement across.

'First, the name of the man identified as you, and some evidence that you didn't kill him.'

'Go on, I'm jotting this down.'

So to speak, I thought. I could hear his fingers on a keyboard.

'A solid indication of what this is all about. Some explanation of the word you used-cancerous.'

'Mmm, and…?'

'That's all for now. They'll want hard evidence, documents, emails, banking details, photographs, whatever, to back up what you say. Hard evidence against Selim Houli.'

The self-satisfied chuckle again. 'Not against Freddy Wong?'

I had to be careful that he didn't lead me into places I wasn't prepared for.

'The police assume you're talking about organisations. They know Freddy Wong had connections far and wide. They assume you'll have.. . relevant information about others.'

'Who killed Freddy?'

The question caught me off-guard and I almost answered. I stopped myself and simply said that I wasn't at liberty to say, but he got something out of my hesitation.

'I'm guessing you were there and that's why nutty Lester came after you. I'm guessing May or Sun Ling.'

'Guess away.'

That was a nugget for me-he didn't know where Sun Ling was, but he did know something about them. The more I heard from him the more I formed the opinion that he was a very dangerous man. There was something objective, analytical, about everything he said, as if he were attempting to anticipate two or three moves ahead and come out on top.

'I assume you're recording this, Hardy?'

I was. Chang had given me the equipment, but I didn't respond.

'You would be. That's good. There's no point in trying to trace the call though. This phone'll soon be…'

'At the bottom of the harbour?'

He laughed. 'Good try. I'll be brief and try to satisfy your conditions. The dead man was what you might call an undocumented person. He was a Lebanese relative of mine I… introduced into the country. He was working with me on this project until about the time I decided to go, as it were, freelance. Lester Wong killed him thinking he was me.'

'That's hard to prove, given that Lester's dead.'

'I can back it up, at least part of the way.'

Slippery, I thought, very slippery.

'As for the other conditions, I'll give you some names and let your… principals make what they will of them: Harvey Dong, Ah Pin, Mustafa Khalid and… let's say, Grant Simmonds.'

I said, 'That's not much to go on,' but I was talking to myself. He'd hung up.

I met Chang in Burton Place, the square down a level from Oxford Street. I had Googled the names and got results for three of them, not Grant Simmonds. I told him about the call and passed my printouts to him.