Friday night
Fairweather Residence, Darwin
Russell sat back in his leather recliner and sipped a glass of the finest shiraz. The sharp blackberry taste settled on his tongue as he rolled the liquid in his mouth. It had been a satisfying end to a successful day.
David Johnson had hightailed it to Kakadu, and as far as Russell could ascertain from his contact at police headquarters, there had been no report of a kidnapping.
He smiled as he stared down at the picture on his phone. The fear in the woman’s eyes and the sight of her bound hands on her stomach sent a surge of power through him. Bill Jarragah’s daughter had done everything she’d been told. Nevertheless, Bill Jarragah was still in his sights. No one spoke to Russell Fairweather the way he had and got away without a consequence. He would take the fall for the kidnapping of the Chief Minister’s wife.
That stubborn old man had drawn the line at taking Johnson’s wife, but another small threat had secured his assurance that he would vote for the drilling. Every other vote was in the bag; there was only David Johnson to keep on track – he was too honest for his own good.
Russell had never understood the ease of manipulating people by threatening those they cared about; love was a foreign concept to him. He sipped his wine and stared into the darkness. The harbour lights flicked on and off, sending flashes of green and red through the night.
Six years of careful plotting, six years after the secret report that showed the wealth of coal beneath Kakadu from the Porter farm and south along the river, Russell’s plan was about to come to fruition. The boundary change to the national park was underway and the drilling would go ahead.
He smiled. Officially that is. The preliminary reports from the site were beyond expectations.
Over the years, Russell had learned that the right connections and corrupt behaviour had the potential to deliver hundreds of millions in windfall profits. For the right price, anyone could be bought. With Panos Sordina as his puppet, he had consolidated his position from behind the scenes. Paying off Sordina’s gambling debts and allowing him to dig a deeper hole for himself had ensured Fairweather not only had influence and access to the Northern Territory Government, but it had placed him in a position where he controlled many of the decisions.
After a chance introduction to Bill Jarragah at the races one weekend, he had listened to a conversation between Jarragah and Panos Sordina about mineral exploration on the farm that Jarragah worked on. With his connections it had been an easy matter to get his hands on the map that showed the potential deposit that continued far into the Kakadu National Park. Fairweather immediately bought the company that had discovered the deposit. He smiled at the memory.
‘It will never get through, Russell. The land there is World Heritage listed. A shame, but it will never be approved.’ The CEO of Black Coal Holdings had taken his million dollars without a backward glance.
He took another sip of the shiraz. If only the fool could see him now.
The doorbell rang and Fairweather put his wine aside, cursing as his hand bumped the edge of the table and a drop of the ruby red liquid splashed on the white cuff of his silk shirt. He frowned and put his finger over the stain as he rose from the chair.
His Gucci shoes made no sound on the marble tiles in the entry foyer and he looked at the image from the security camera on the small screen above the door, nodding with satisfaction as Mick Dawson stared back at him, his eyes as cold as ever. Russell put in the code to release the electronic lock and the door swung open silently.
‘Follow me.’ They would talk in the study; business and pleasure were not to be mixed in his home.
Fairweather gestured to the chair next to the desk and waited for Dawson to sit.
‘You almost failed me last night. Sordina was supposed to be crocodile food. I was not happy when the body was found this morning.’ He let Mick squirm for a moment. ‘No matter. I have two more little tasks for you. I think you’ll enjoy both of these. The politician’s wife is in a safe place. Take the four-wheel drive and go back to Kakadu. Check that she is secure. I want her alive till Monday.’
Fairweather clicked the mouse of his computer and brought up a Google map, highlighted a location and sent it to the laser printer beside the computer. ‘After that, you can do what you like with her. But before you go out to Black Jungle Springs, I want you to finish the job on that helicopter.’ He reached over and pulled the map from the printer. ‘I want it to come down tomorrow. There is no room for error this time.’