The girl stroked Sassy’s hooded head. She kept asking questions, although it was already late afternoon and the final flight demonstration had ended.
‘What’s the lure for?’
‘It brings the falcon back. I feed her from it each day.’ Matt let the girl hold the lure. ‘See? It’s made of leather, filled with rice, and a pair of pigeon wings attached.’
‘Real pigeon wings? Wow. What does stoop mean? You said Sassy was learning to stoop.’
‘That’s falconry language. It means to dive down on prey with closed wings. When she circles overhead she “waits on”. When she catches birds in mid-air she “carries”. When she climbs high above her prey, she “towers”.’
The girl stood on her toes. ‘What’s the hood for?’
‘To keep her calm. Without it, she might become scared by the strange people, flutter about and break her feathers. Broken flight feathers are a death sentence for a wild falcon.’
Penny walked down from the mews. ‘Enough for today,’ she told the girl. ‘Sassy needs her rest.’ The girl ran off to find her parents as the last park visitors wandered to the gate. ‘You’re good with the children,’ said Penny.
‘With some of them,’ said Matt, carrying Sassy back to the mews. ‘Those that aren’t idiots.’ He settled the little falcon on her perch, then turned to find Penny’s eyes upon him, studying him. ‘Is Drake coming over tonight?’
‘He’ll be here,’ said Matt. ‘They should rename tonight’s show A Family Affair. He’d invited Penny and Drake around to watch the Inquest election special on television that evening. The program was to feature Fraser and Premier Kate Logan, Drake’s mother.
‘You should stay tonight,’ he said, ‘so you can have a few drinks.’ Penny said nothing. She watched Sassy tear a mouse apart, before heading for the house.
Matt sighed, and settled the other raptors. It would be fun seeing Kate squirm tonight in response to the latest polls. He was even prepared to suffer Fraser. Fraser – once so predictable. Not anymore. What about that tree business? Pallawarra was being fast-tracked onto the Giant Tree Registry. Fraser had sent him a copy of the assessment, a with compliments slip attached. The envelope contained something more. A black-and-white polaroid of names carved into a tree trunk: Charlotte and Fraser. On the back of the photo Fraser had written Pallawarra. Strange, confronting even, to think of his parents all those years ago. Not so different to him and Pen back in the day. Young, romantic, anticipating a shared future.
Matt had never thought of them that way before, and he liked it. Liked to think of his mother in the context of something other than her death. Liked to think of his father as more than the man to blame. So Matt had gone to see for himself. Flowers and cards from well-wishers spilled out around Pallawarra’s trunk. Protecting this particular tree had been a popular move, even among forest contractors, many of whom had their own sentimental attachments. He’d found his parents’ names, and those forty-year-old scratches had moved him more than he could have imagined. Helped to place things in perspective. Made him more determined than ever to put his own marriage back together.
His life was currently a mess. Sarah was in Hobart, all caught up in her work, genotyping devil samples. But she still wanted a romantic involvement with him, her flirty texts made that clear. And she was still trying to convince him to go public with Theo. Matt was avoiding her, without being too obvious about it. He posted Sarah her phone, so that she wouldn’t come and pick it up. When she offered to spend a weekend in Hills End, he invented a camping trip. But Sarah wouldn’t be put off forever. Eventually he’d have to deal with her.
And Penny was still living at Ray’s. The reconnection that he’d been so excited about last week, hadn’t happened as he’d hoped. Penny was friendly, but distant. Something was holding her back.
Matt’s life remained on hold, in limbo. Maybe that would change tonight. Drake’s presence would help keep things emotionally light while Matt gauged Penny’s mood. When Drake left, Matt would have a heart-to-heart with his wife.
The early part of the evening passed in a happy blur. Drake brought fish and chips from town, and beer. This was like old times. Penny laughing, teasing Drake, playing daggy eighties power ballads. But she was cool with Matt, and wouldn’t drink the wine he’d bought her, sticking instead to lemonade. At eight-thirty they turned on the television and settled down to watch. Drake snagged the spot beside Penny on the frayed couch. Matt made a face and sat in an armchair. He turned off the lamp as the host appeared on the screen.
‘I’m Tom Munro and this is Inquest. On my right, Premier Kate Logan. On my left, Opposition Leader Robert Hellgrun. Also joining us tonight is a man whose critics call him The Puppet-Master. CEO of the Burns conglomerate, Fraser Burns Abbott.’ Enthusiastic applause, but some boos as well from the audience. ‘With the election only days away, polls indicate a mood for change. Everything depends on the undecided voters and there are still plenty of them out there. Tonight, you have a final chance to ask the big questions.’
‘Mum can’t smile properly,’ said Drake. ‘I reckon she’s had another facelift.’
‘Shush,’ scolded Penny. ‘Let’s listen.’
Kate was a consummate performer, hogging the limelight right from the start. Even Munro’s expert hosting skills were inadequate to prevent her from seizing the initiative on every question. Hellgrun complained about Kate’s interruptions. Fraser sipped his water and listened.
‘… so according to our internal polling, the momentum remains with the government,’ said Kate, with a confident smile.
‘We must move on,’ said Munro. ‘Let’s hear from the gentleman at the back with his hand up.’
‘Can the economy keep growing forever?’ the man asked.
‘That’s a question for the fiscal philosophers among us,’ said Munro. ‘Fraser Abbott. You’ve been called the Gordon Gekko of Tasmania. Is economic growth always good?’
‘No,’ said Fraser. ‘It’s not.’ A low murmur came from the audience.
‘Perhaps you can explain your answer,’ said Munro. ‘Your pro-growth views are on the record.’
‘If I may paraphrase David Attenborough …’ Penny gave a small delighted cry. Munro’s brow furrowed as Kate Logan shifted in her chair, glaring at Fraser like he’d lost his mind. ‘Someone who believes in infinite growth is either a madman or an economist.’
A louder murmur from the crowd this time and some scattered applause.
‘With respect,’ said Munro, ‘that seems to be a total abrogation of your former views.’
Fraser shrugged. ‘A man can change his mind.’
‘Indeed he can,’ said Munro. ‘Let me ask the obvious question. Why have you changed your mind?’
Kate cut in. ‘My government does stand on the principle of continued economic growth. Growth equals jobs. Growth creates wealth and opportunity for the people of this state. Record investment, record population increase, record employment and record consumer confidence. These are the trademarks of my leadership.’
‘Fraser is quoting David Attenborough now?’ said Matt with a shake of his head. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Your old man’s changed.’ Drake grinned. ‘He’s opened his mind, man.’
‘Unbelievable. First Penny and now you? Am I the only one who still can’t stand him?’ Drake and Penny exchanged smiles. ‘What, so we’re all one big, happy dysfunctional family now, are we?’ He hurled a cushion at Drake. It hit Penny.
‘Shut up, you two,’ she said. ‘I want to listen.’
Munro waited for Kate to finish speaking, then went straight back to Fraser. ‘I must ask you again, Mr Abbott. Why this remarkable change of heart?’
‘Let’s just say I’ve done my homework.’
Munro must have been dying to question Fraser further, but he couldn’t ignore the sea of raised hands in the audience. ‘A question from the lady in red.’
The woman stood up and waited for the microphone to reach her. ‘Is it true that Pallawarra will be permanently protected?’
‘Ah. That’s the tree used by conservationists as a focus for their anti-woodchip campaign,’ Munro told the broader audience. ‘It was earmarked for felling. A very unpopular decision, I might add.’
‘A new measurement shows the tree’s volume to be two hundred and eighty-five cubic metres,’ said Fraser. ‘Any tree over two hundred and eighty cubic metres must be protected. The government will breach its own policy if the tree is felled.’
The audience clapped, with a few cheers thrown in. ‘Sounds like you’ve won some friends,’ said Munro. ‘Next, can we have the gentleman here in the front row.’
The man read self-consciously from a sheet of paper. ‘When will we see an inquiry into the shadowy role played by lobbyists in securing lucrative contracts and subverting proper planning processes?’
‘I think the questioner is referring to calls from the Opposition for an independent anti-corruption commission,’ said Munro. ‘Premier?’
‘These calls are a cheap political stunt,’ said Kate. ‘My leadership is, and has always been, completely transparent.’
‘Ha,’ said Drake. ‘Mum’s about as transparent as a round of lead. And just as deadly.’
Kate went on. ‘We already have in place a comprehensive set of checks and balances to prevent any improper influence on government business.’
‘We’ll go to the Opposition Leader for a comment. Robert Hellgrun?’
‘This government is riddled with a culture of secret deals for mates,’ said Hellgrun. ‘The Premier and Mr Abbott here are prime examples. They’re as thick as thieves.’
Kate tried to interject, but Munro stood firm. ‘We’ll hear from Fraser Abbott himself. Have you or your companies ever received improper favours from this government?’
‘Yes,’ said Fraser.
Kate’s smile fled. The audience gasped collectively.
‘You’re saying yes?’
Fraser sipped from his water glass. ‘I’m saying, yes.’
Munro sat forward in his chair. ‘What sort of favours?’
Fraser reached beneath his seat and dropped a fat brown envelope on the desk. ‘For years I’ve transferred money into a chain of trusts whose ultimate beneficiary … is Kate Logan.’
Kate yelled out, but Munro held up his hand to silence her. ‘You mean donations in addition to those listed on the official register?’ He straightened his shirt sleeves, looking like he could barely believe his luck. Hellgrun, beside him, was still and watchful.
‘I’m not talking about political donations,’ said Fraser. ‘I’m talking about personal bribes.’
A rising chatter was travelling through the studio audience. ‘Go on,’ said Munro.
‘My company, Costain Constructions, renovated Kate’s house here in Hobart, and built her holiday home on Freycinet Peninsula, along with apartments for her family in Sydney and on the Gold Coast. All at a fraction of their true cost.’
Kate stood up. ‘That’s a lie! Fraser, what are you doing?’
Fraser gave her an apologetic smile. ‘Ridding my life of secrets.’ His voice grew louder, loud enough to overcome Kate’s protests. ‘In return, the Premier set peppercorn royalty payments for Burns Timber to log state forests and legislated to remove planning restrictions on private ones. There’s more. I won’t go into everything now.’
‘How dare you!’ Kate’s voice shook with fury.
Fraser looked genuinely remorseful. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but it’s over.’
Munro licked his lips. ‘These are extraordinary claims. Will you prove them?’
Fraser gestured to the envelope. ‘It’s all there. Evidence that our Premier is keeping two sets of books. Evidence also that she received gifts and hospitality from Pierpont Casino by way of accommodation, meals and gambling money. In return, she granted the Pierpont Consortium a gratis thirty-year gaming monopoly. She ignored breaches of the Responsible Gambling Code, and allowed the casino to increase gaming tables and poker machines numbers without due process.’
‘An army of lawyers will be working as we speak,’ said Kate, threat dripping from each word, ‘to ensure these slanderous allegations are not repeated.’
Fraser shrugged. ‘Truth is a defence, Kate.’
‘For the time being I’d ask you, Fraser Abbott, to confine your comments to ones that won’t give our legal department a heart attack,’ said a concerned looking Munro. ‘If I may, though, I’d very much like to examine the evidence for these claims.’
Fraser rose to his feet, glass of water in one hand, envelope in the other. He gave Kate a wide berth, as if he thought she might snatch the documents from him. Then he dropped the envelope on the desk in front of Munro. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to upset Kate any further. We’ve been friends for a lifetime and are equally guilty of treating this state like a magic pudding.’ He looked straight at the camera and raised his glass. ‘Matthew, this one’s for you, son.’
With that, Fraser sculled his water and left the set. Audience and panel alike looked shell-shocked. Kate tried valiantly to defend herself, but it was no use. She was mortally wounded and Hellgrun tasted blood in the water. He went in for the kill with uncharacteristic brutality.
Drake scrubbed a hand over his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear to watch. ‘I don’t believe it. I actually feel sorry for my mother.’ Penny and Matt murmured assent. The woman was withering before their eyes. ‘I’d better get down to Hobart,’ said Drake. ‘See how my parents are doing.’ He stood to leave.
Penny hugged him goodbye. Matt didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything. Drake turned at the door and caught Matt’s gaze. ‘Your dad did a brave thing, my friend. I hope Mum survives his sudden attack of courage.’
Matt remained on the couch as Drake left, too stunned to recognise at first what he was feeling. He struggled to admit it, but the improbable certainty grew stronger by the second. It was pride. Pride in his father. It hurled him back in time, back to a childhood when that kind of emotion was a common feeling. It smashed through a bricked-off corner of his mind, contradicted his carefully constructed picture of Fraser.
Long forgotten film clips of his family were now playing. They made his insides tremble. Mum and his sisters, him and his dad. A wide-screen warmth embraced them all. His father’s hand on his shoulder, echoes of whispered well dones. The taste of salt as they sailed Kemp Cove’s black waters. Then tragedy. Fraser slumped in a chair or working nonstop, day after day, month after month. His impenetrable detachment. But what sort of witness is a boy? Matt saw now that grief had crushed his father, left him helpless to respond to the sorrow-stricken accusing child that was his son. His eyes filled with unexpected tears and he knuckled them away.
Penny sat down beside him and Matt gave her a hollow smile. ‘So Fraser really is dying. I didn’t believe him.’
She took his hand as tears streamed from his eyes. He wrapped his arms around his wife and rocked back and forth, back and forth. Penny held him tight, like she would a child, while he wept.
Later, they sat on the verandah with drinks in hand, watching a new moon sail over Binburra’s mountains. ‘I know Sarah stayed here overnight,’ said Penny.
Oh. He burned with shame. ‘I didn’t want you to think …’
‘Did something happen between you and Sarah that I should know about?’
Matt had learned his lesson. He told her everything. He told her about the wine and the music and Sarah’s little striptease. He told her about falling asleep on the couch and waking to find Sarah and Theo gone. He told her about the chase in the dark, and the kiss and the flirty texts.
Penny listened quietly. When he finished, silence yawned between them, broken only by the night-time chorus of frogs in the dam. Matt wasn’t sure how long they sat like that – it felt like hours.
‘This has certainly been a night of surprises,’ Penny said at last. She held his gaze, eyes drilling into him. ‘Swear to me there’s nothing more. That you’re not holding things back this time.’
‘I swear.’ His voice rang with truth, and he felt suddenly lighter, freer, younger.
Penny gulped down a big breath. ‘Then I believe you.’ A slight smile softened the lines of her serious face. ‘Not even you could make up that crazy story.’
Matt felt like singing. He reached for her hand but she moved it away. ‘Not yet Matt. Give me time.’