Chapter One

It had been an exceedingly good year for Jim Rankin’s small dealership, ‘Downs Toyota’. Indeed, sales had reached an all-time high and the vehicle service centre almost always fully booked. Jim even considered an expansion of his operations to a nearby town and had signed a contract with Darling Downs Television for a number of commercials to be shown each week during prime time programs. The success of his motoring business was especially gratifying because he and his wife, Judy, had mortgaged their home to the hilt just to get the company up and running.

Everything had turned out much better than expected, he thought to himself as he leaned back in his leather swivel chair behind his Australian oak desk. He acknowledged he’d been a little lucky, because the retail motor industry had always been a cut throat one. Judy had given up virtually everything to support him in the pursuit of his dream. And now after all the hard work, their future looked rosy. If their good fortune continued, his wife might be able to vacate her present position as the company’s credit manager and stay home to care for their two teenage children. Jim often felt a little guilty when he thought about Brett and Susan getting off to school alone every day and coming home to an empty house. Saturdays and holidays also demanded their presence at the dealership.

Jim frowned at the Taxation Office stamp in the left hand corner of the manila envelope that landed on his desk with the rest of the mail. Extracting a headed document, his brow furrowed into a deep frown. Jim’s eyes scrolled down the page and his stomach churned. The letter advised him his firm was to be subjected to an in-depth taxation audit. A shaft of gloom darkened his good spirits. That was all he needed at the moment. He reached for the telephone and dialed his accountant, impatiently drumming his fingers on the surface of the desk.

“Putting you through now, Mr. Rankin,” the young voice told him.

The familiar voice came on the line. “Noel Johnson speaking.”

“Noel, it’s Jim Rankin.” He felt a sudden surge of uneasiness. “I’ve just received a bloody letter from the Department of Taxation. They’re going to conduct an in-depth audit of the firm. Whatever the bloody hell that means.”

“I see.” His tone wary. “When is it scheduled?”

“They’ll be here first thing Monday morning. I want you here for it, Noel,” he said firmly.

“Yes, of course, Jim. I’ll, er, be there at eight.”

The hesitancy in his accountant’s voice caused a knot to tighten in Jim’s stomach.

“Everything is okay isn’t it, mate? I mean, there’s nothing for us to worry about, is there?”

“No, of course not, Jim.” His tone came with a hint of impatience. “Don’t you worry. Everything’ll be fine.”

“That’s good to hear, Noel.” Jim gave a grim sigh. “I didn’t think there would be any problems. See you first thing Monday morning.” He hung up and allowed himself a small smile. For the first time since receiving the taxation letter, he felt an easing of his nervous tension.

Picking at his roast beef and vegetables that same evening, he raised the subject with Judy. “What a time to have to undergo a bloody taxation audit. That’ll tie us up for days I suppose. The last thing we need.” He licked his lips. “But Noel said he’ll be there to act as a go between for the firm and the taxation people.” Jim tried to keep his tone light. He didn’t want to worry her. “Things have really picked up since we changed to Noel’s accountancy firm. I just hope and pray he knows what the hell he’s doing.”

Judy lowered her coffee cup to her saucer and lifted her eyes to give him a reassuring smile. “Of course he does, Jim, darling. Even though he’s only been in town for a couple of years, I know of a number of local firms who are glowing in their praise of Noel and his staff. In fact, his business seems to be going from strength to strength.”

“Yes, he does appear to be switched on and very capable. I just hope he’s dotted his Is and crossed his Ts where he’s supposed to. You know what these bloody taxation people are like, Jude.” His lip curled. “They’ll hone in on anything they can find, just to suck one extra lousy dollar out of us. The thing is, their penalties are damn harsh and so is the interest they charge if they find any mistakes.” He took a deep breath to calm an inexplicable uneasiness.

“Don’t worry, love.” She patted his hand. “I’m sure it’s just a storm in a tea cup. It will soon go away. Go on, finish your dinner.”

Brett, their seventeen year old son, had been busy demolishing his roast dinner, but had been listening to his parents’ conversation. “I hope so dad, I don’t want to have to visit you in jail,” he joked.

Jim chuckled and lightly punched his son in the shoulder, the tension relieved.

***

On the dot of nine am. the following Monday morning, a Commonwealth vehicle with Z plates drew to a halt in the parking area of Downs Toyota. Three men and one woman, all dressed in business suits and carrying dark leather briefcases emerged. They were shown into his private office where Jim offered a friendly welcoming smile and shook hands with the bureaucrats. Noel Johnson stood beside him. “This is our accountant, Noel Johnson.”

After again shaking hands, the leader of the taxation team raised his eyebrows. “Excellent, Mr. Rankin. Having your accountant here will be of valuable assistance to us.” His eyes met Jim’s. “In spite of him being here though, I must strongly emphasise that this audit concerns you and your company, Downs Toyota, not your accountant, his methods or his practices. After all, it’s you who have signed the relevant documents and claims as being true and accurate. Therefore, it’s you who is directly responsible. You do understand what I am saying?”

Jim swallowed his nervousness. “Yes, of course.” He hesitated. “What do you want to see first?”

“Every document relating to your taxation claim, of course.” The eyes of the only female in the room narrowed.

Jim turned to his accountant. “You know where everything is, Noel. Will you show them?”

Johnson turned away apparently unable to meet the intensity of Jim Rankin’s gaze. “Follow me, please. Mrs. Rankin is in charge of the small office team here at Down’s Toyota. She has the necessary documentation in her filing cabinet.”

After Johnson led the team from his office, Jim slumped into his chair. What a mob of arrogant arseholes For the next harrowing four days, he went about his business as if the taxation auditors weren’t there, going out of his way to give them a wide berth. He’d given instructions to his staff they should be fully cooperative where the audit was concerned. From time to time, one of the inspectors would appear at his office door to ask a question or two relating to a specific part of the business that Noel Johnson was not conversant with.

On the morning of the fifth day, the four taxation inspectors gathered outside his door, indicating their job was finished. Jim beckoned them inside - his nerves frayed. “Take a seat.” He pointed to straight-backed armchairs in front of his desk.

The leader looked down on him, his voice calm. “No, thanks, Mr. Rankin. This won’t take long.”

He squirmed nervously on his chair. “Where’s Noel?”

“He returned to his own business.” The female officer replied.

“Oh,” Jim smiled uncertainly. “Everything’s all right then?”

“On the contrary, Mr. Rankin.” The team leader’s face hardened. “During the audit, we’ve discovered a number of very serious anomalies in your documentation.”

Jim leaped to his feet, a shiver running down his spine. “Wha... what are you talking about.?” He stammered in disbelief. “Noel assured me that everything was above board.”

The leader of the team slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid to report that the opposite would appear to be the case, Mr. Rankin.” He placed his briefcase on the desk, opened it, and removed a ten page typed report. “Here is a copy of what we’ve discovered.” He paused briefly, his eyes locking onto Jim’s. “I must inform you we’ve uncovered taxation fraud on a serious scale. I’ll give you an example.” He began to read from the report. “Profit from a significant number of car sales has not been declared, and you have failed to also declare a large amount of income derived from the wholesaling of vehicles that have been traded in on new models. And there’s more.”

“But Noel assured me.” It was almost a whimper as Jim slumped further into his chair.

The leader was not fazed. “We warned you when the audit began, Mr. Rankin, it’s your signature that appears on Downs Toyota’s taxation returns. This means it’s you, and you alone, who has to take full responsibility where your records are concerned. We’ll be investigating your accountant, Mr. Johnson, on other matters, including taxation fraud. We’ll be auditing all the companies he presently services.”

Jim’s blood went cold. “What happens now?” He felt like a participant in some awful dream.

“That’s not up to us, Mr. Rankin.” He hesitated. “We’ll submit our report to the Taxation Department’s recovery section. After that, it’s left to them to decide on a course of action.”

A realisation hit home. Shit! “I suppose I’ll have to pay back the taxes that are owed with fines and penalties as well as interest?”

The leader gazed at his colleagues who nodded. “Look, Mr. Rankin, this is off the record.” A note of sympathy in his voice. “We can all appreciate what’s happened here. But as I said before, the buck stops with you as the principal of the company and there’s nothing anyone can do about that.” He sighed. “We don’t know what punishment will be meted out to you. However, I would be most surprised if you were not charged with attempting to defraud the taxation office.”

“What!” Jim was starting to feel overwhelmed. “You mean I’ll have to go to court and defend myself?”

“Exactly. There are plenty of precedents, I can assure you.”

“Bloody hell.” Jim’s mind was in turmoil. He felt unable to come to terms with what was being said.

He watched the taxation team leave his office, then reached for the phone and dialed. “Put me on to Noel Johnson.” He exploded with anger and frustration.

“Who’s calling please?” a timid girlish voice asked.

“Jim Rankin,” he snapped.

After a short pause, the young voice was back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rankin, Mr. Johnson is not available at the moment.”

“Then make sure you tell him to phone me when he is bloody-well available,” he growled. “It’s urgent that I speak with him.” He slammed the receiver down, knowing full well Noel Johnson would not be returning his call. Judy, I’ll have to tell Judy.

***

He watched the worry-lines appear on her normally smooth forehead. “Oh, Jim, it all sounds so serious.” She lifted a hand to her mouth. “And just when we thought our money worries were over. I can’t believe it.” Jim rose and moved from behind his desk, taking both her hands in his. He drew her gently to her feet, wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a protective embrace. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll bounce back.”

“I can’t help thinking about the fines and interest, Jim.” Her voice showed her despair. “It’ll drain all our reserves.”

“We’ll overcome it, no matter how long it takes.” He forced a smile as he tried to reassure her. “Don’t you fret now.”

“What about Noel?” Her soft features grew surprisingly stern.

“He wasn’t available when I called him earlier. I suppose I’ll just have to go over and see him - personally.”

Later that afternoon, Jim Rankin called at his accountant’s office to discover the premises stripped of furniture and the front door locked. It was blatantly obvious Johnson had done a runner. Jim returned to his car and sat for several minutes, running the day’s events through his mind, trying to consider his next step. This is way beyond me. I need help. He gunned the engine and drove two blocks to the offices of his solicitor, Jerry Adams, grateful he was free to see him.

The middle-aged man nodded gravely as Jim related events to him. “Bloody hell, Jim.” His rough voice shot out from his thick lips. “This sounds damn serious.”

“Yeah, I agree, Jerry. The more I think about it, the more worried I’m becoming.” He shifted anxiously in his chair. “Surely there must be some way of making Noel Johnson account for his actions. I mean, I never thought for a moment he wasn’t declaring everything he should on our taxation returns. Right from the start, when I first engaged his services, I emphasised that everything had to be above board.”

Jerry Adams’ piercing blue eyes riveted on his. “Jim, by your own admission, your financial position improved quickly and markedly after engaging Johnson as your accountant.” He raised a thick eyebrow. “Didn’t you ever wonder why?”

Jim became defensive. He rose from the straight backed chair. “Why the bloody hell should I?” He exploded. “During this period, the turnover of our company also grew by a record twenty per cent. I thought the overall improvement was a direct result of that and the general belt tightening which has occurred within the firm.” He watched his solicitor shake his head, a look passed between them sharp as a razor. Jim capitulated. “All right! all right!” he snapped. “I also attributed some of our good fortune to Noel’s accountancy expertise. Unfortunately, I didn’t look into the nitty gritty aspects of the taxation returns he completed. I trusted him. I swear I didn’t know that he was not making a full declaration.”

“I believe you. However, you’re not alone. The truth is, the majority of business people don’t scrutinise their taxation returns to the extent they should, and that, my friend, is a huge mistake,” Adams said seriously. “The fact they don’t means little to the Taxation Department.” He moved forward in his chair, his eyes resting on Jim’s. “I’m sorry, Jim. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be charged, and you’ll have to appear in the Brisbane District Court.”

“What a load of bloody bullshit.” He scowled. “I don’t know whether I am coming or going with all this legal crap.”

Adams rushed to explain. “Even though this is deemed a Federal offense, you’ll still be tried in the court system administered by the Queensland Department of Justice. Since it’s not considered a serious offense, your hearing will be convened in a District Court.” He hesitated. “I’ll have to arrange for a barrister to represent you.”

“Bloody hell, this is going to cost a damn fortune.” Jim looked away, pursing his lips.

“I’m afraid so.” Jerry Adams deliberated for a moment, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a pity my old mate, Henry Flanagan, is currently disbarred. He is particularly brilliant and would jump at a case like this. It’s right up his alley.” He sighed. “No use wishing.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“I can’t say for sure.” He folded his arms. “You’ll definitely have to repay the Taxation Department the full amount that is owed to them, and you’ll probably have to pay their court costs. There’ll also be a certain amount of interest and I’m sure the fines will be quite severe.”

“Jail? They wouldn’t send me to prison, would they?” Jim asked anxiously, unwilling to believe that such an outcome could even be considered.

“Not in this case, I’m sure. Since there was no obvious intention on your part to defraud the Taxation Department, a custodial sentence seems out of the question.”