Chapter
THIRTEEN

At 9:45 a.m. Monday, June 1, Andy Drummond parked at AWD in Brooklyn. A bright yellow sign pointed the way from the car park to the Reception Office. Carrying a copy of the employment section from The Age on Saturday, he walked to reception. Entering, he found himself in a foyer with several comfortable seats and a large counter running across its width. A sign on the counter declared: Ring for Assistance. Drummond pressed the buzzer and waited.

A door behind the counter opened and a woman in her fifties appeared.

‘Good morning. Can I help you?’ She was neatly dressed, hair in a bun and bespectacled, her face was motherly, her manner friendly.

‘Yes,’ Drummond smiled. ‘I’ve come about the ad. for a tanker driver.’ He brandished the paper.

‘Do you have an appointment?’

‘Well no, I assumed from the way the ad. reads it was just a case of coming in.’

‘That should be alright dear. Mr Santini’s put mornings aside all week and has just finished with someone. He shouldn’t be long. Help yourself to coffee or tea. What’s your name?’

‘Thanks,’ Drummond smiled. ‘Andy Drummond.’

She nodded and disappeared through the door.

Drummond had given a lot of thought to this meeting and while he didn’t know Santini, or his role in the company, he had decided to trust no one. Intuitively he also felt it would not be helpful to mention the location of his farm or the truck fire but remained uncertain about that. He was still mulling this over when the receptionist reappeared and beckoned him.

‘Mr Santini will see you now dear.’

‘Right thanks. Anything I should know about Mr Santini that will help present my best side?’

She smiled gently. ‘You’ll find him very quiet and pleasant. He’s a good listener and very fair. Just tell him why you want the job and what your qualifications are. I’m sure you’ll be alright.’

She led him down a corridor. To the right, behind a glass half-wall, lay an open office in which twenty or so people worked. The place looked professional, well organised and superbly equipped.

The woman paused before a door near the end of the corridor, knocked briefly then ushered Drummond into the office. ‘Mr Santini, this is Andy Drummond, he has come for a job interview in response to Saturday’s advertisement.’

Drummond saw a smallish man in his mid to late fifties rise from behind a well polished wooden desk. He was neatly and fashionably dressed and peered at Drummond with shrewd, unwavering, deep brown eyes. Drummond’s impression was that Santini appeared coiled, like a spring – full of latent energy.

Stepping away from the desk Santini offered his hand. Drummond noted it was hard and dry and the grip strong.

‘Take a seat please Andy.’ He spoke quietly in measured tones and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. ‘What made you apply for this job with Aldrittson’s?’

‘I’ve got a few shares in the firm, so I know that financially it’s a good company. And recently, I read an article in the Financial Review that was pretty positive about the management here, you know, caring, good pay, bonuses and all that. Apart from that, I’ve met some of your drivers over time and they spoke well of the place. Lastly, I made some enquiries and found that jobs for drivers here are few and far between. That says a lot about the joint.’

Santini had not taken his eyes from Drummond’s face. He listened impassively. ‘So you’ve done your homework then. What qualifications do you have?’

‘Four wheel driving, light commercial trucks, heavy vehicles and articulated vehicles. I can handle bull dozers and I’m a qualified fork lift driver. I spent a long time in the army and got my qualifications there. I brought copies if you want to see them.’

Santini waved his hand dismissively. ‘Not yet. I’m interested in why you want to come and work for Aldrittson’s. You haven’t told me that yet. Where do you work now? Why do you want to leave that for here?’

Santini was no one’s fool – he had gone for the jugular. Behind the impassive face Drummond saw watchfulness and caution. Santini and bullshit were mutually exclusive. He decided to tell part of the truth. ‘My wife Sue died of ovarian cancer three years ago. Since then I’ve been lost.’ Santini’s caution prompted Andy to test the waters. He continued. ‘I’ve got a small property at Heathcote which we started together about eight years ago but, since her death, I can’t seem to settle or stop thinking about her. Being a driver would take me all over the place, put me in touch with lots of different people, keep me busy and help reduce some of my thinking time.’

With the exception of wanting to be a driver, all of what he had said was true. He didn’t add that he and Sue had received a bumper start from winning a half share in a seven million dollar lottery first prize six years earlier. Back then, he still had a year of his term to serve in the army and Sue was teaching. They were happy and satisfied with what they did and saw no reason for Drummond to finish his career prematurely. They invested wisely and began planning for life outside the army.

At the mention of Heathcote, Santini’s eyes hooded slightly. Drummond knew then exactly how to proceed. He continued, ‘As a matter of fact, I went to a truck fire near my place recently. I don’t know whose truck it was and the local coppers don’t know much either. It provided a bit of excitement for a couple of days. Yeah, strange it was. Seemed to be no reason for the fire. Driver got incinerated … charred to a twist. Horrible! As far as I know, the coppers still haven’t identified the truck owner or the driver. Hell of a way to die.’

‘Yes, it sounds terrible,’ said Santini smoothly. ‘I suppose it’s one of the hazards of long distance driving. Now, perhaps I could see your driving authorities.’

Drummond passed his certificates to Santini and watched as he checked them carefully.

Santini looked up, a mild expression on his face. ‘Mr Drummond, I’m sorry, we may have wasted your time. You have very good credentials but I’d like to see a few more people yet. Thank you for coming in. I’ll be in touch.’ Although obviously lying, Santini was courteous yet cool. He remained seated and didn’t offer to shake hands again. ‘I’ll have Mary show you out.’ Hardly had he finished speaking when she reappeared, a look of surprise on her face.

‘Yes Mr Santini?’

‘Mary, show Mr Drummond the way out please.’

Her eyebrows rose slightly as she said, ‘Of course, come this way Andy.’ She closed the door and escorted Drummond back to the foyer. ‘Well, that was quick. He’s been taking thirty to forty minutes. Did you say something wrong?’

He grinned at the suggestion. ‘I don’t think so Mary. Perhaps I didn’t have the qualifications he was looking for. By the way, has the job been filled yet?’

‘No, not yet. Two drivers have been interviewed this morning and there’s another scheduled for 11 a.m.’ She was silent for a moment then continued, ‘the reason I asked if you’d said something wrong is that you were in and out so fast. That was unusual. He’s a hard man to upset.’

‘No, I can’t think of a thing I said wrong. I’ll just have to look elsewhere. Thanks Mary, nice meeting you.’

At 5:00 p.m. Drummond rang Maud and told him of his meeting with Santini. The response was immediate and fiery.

‘Andy, you are pissing me off! I told you not to get up to mischief and you go on the bloody offensive. If the shit hits the fan it’s my neck on the friggin’ chopping block.’ He sounded truly offended.

‘Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise you Tony – no damage done. Santini wanted me out of there quick smart and I am keeping you informed. It’s just that there are all these bloody questions about this fire and no answers. I simply wanted to see if I could push a couple of buttons to provoke a response. I got one. He didn’t want to know me.’

Tony calmed down. ‘Alright, alright. Do you think Santini is involved in what ever’s going on?’ He sounded doubtful.

‘I am. Well, I think so Tony.’ He almost sounded confident. ‘As soon as I said I was from Heathcote the shutters fell. He remained polite and courteous but the room temperature dropped ten degrees. He just seemed to withdraw and suddenly, the interview was over. Then, ever so nicely, he threw me out. I won’t be hearing from him again.’

Maud accepted that. ‘Okay mate. But so far, Aldrittson’s have been nothing but helpful. Once they established it was their truck and their man, they bent over backwards to help. I’d say they want this cleared up as much as we do. I was told they arranged the funeral and have already handsomely compensated the driver’s widow and family.’

‘Sorry to be cynical Tony, but that sounds like a pay-off to me. I think their actions are designed to throw us off the scent.’ Drummond sounded thoughtful. ‘I mean, usually, people hiding things are obstructive or defensive and want to make life difficult. If Aldrittson’s are using distraction as reverse psychology they’re probably hoping you’ll quickly disappear without looking too deeply.’

Maud pondered the idea. ‘I’ve mainly been dealing with the boss, Jack Aldrittson. I may have spoken to this Santini bloke a couple of times, can’t be sure. He was quiet and polite. He certainly didn’t cause any trouble or create the impression of being anxious. But I have to say, when Aldrittson told me about the payout to Browne’s wife, $300,000 and he’s not even cold yet, I did wonder.’

‘You just reminded me,’ said Drummond, ‘I told Santini the police didn’t know who the driver was or where the truck came from. He never said a word to correct me. If they have nothing to hide you’d think he would have said something. Look, I’ve got no real reason for saying this but my impression is that Santini knows something. I could be wrong, but gut instinct tells me differently. Where does he live?’

‘Why? Have you got rocks in your bloody head or something?’ Maud was annoyed again. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Calm down, I’m not stupid. I just thought I could drive by to see what sort of place he has and how he’s set up. Call it intelligence. I won’t go snooping around his house or anything like that and I will keep you posted.’

‘Okay, I’ve got a couple of favours to call in. I’ll see what I can find out. I can’t say when I’ll get back to you I’m on call tonight; one of the lads here is sick and I’m covering the late shift.’

Drummond smiled to himself as he hung up, confident he would be checking on Santini later. Tony Maud was a good copper and would come up with the address.