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‘Dad was a great one for that,’ she said. ‘We lived in this old house at first and had to watch out for rats.’

I opened a cupboard and found bottles of whisky, brandy and rum. The fridge held bottles of soda and tonic along with gin and vodka and vermouth. There was tomato and orange juice and a jar of olives.

‘They did themselves proud,’ I said.

Margaret sniffed at the opened carton of milk and made a face. She leaned against the sink, suddenly looking tired. ‘Why’re we here, Cliff? With all this sex and jollity, I kind of forget.’

‘To see if your father left anything to suggest. .’

‘What killed him. Right. Where d’you you think we should look? Maybe under the beds-or in them? Come on, Cliff, they did nothing here but screw in various combinations.’

I pointed to the cup, glass and spoon on the draining rack. ‘Mrs Dart said your father sometimes came here on his own,’ I said. ‘These’re probably his.’

She shrugged. ‘I want to get away from here. Let’s go look at the bloody quarry.’

‘Bear with me.’ It seemed unlikely that McKinley would put anything of professional importance in the boudoirs or the kitchen. I took a quick look at the bathroom-neat, tidy, no hiding places. That left the living room. I worked through the bookshelves while Margaret sat, sceptically fiddling with a strand of hair. Nothing.

How do you store data? I thought, trying to put myself in the scientist’s shoes. I wasn’t sure. How do you best hide something? I knew the answer to that-where everyone can see it. There was a rack of DVDs under the player-movies, documentaries. I finger-picked my way through them and in the middle found an unlabelled disc.

‘What’s that?’ Margaret said. ‘Their home movies? I don’t think I want to see it. Maybe I do.’

‘I don’t know.’ I turned on the TV, put the disk into the DVD player and pressed PLAY.

14

McKinley appeared on screen and Margaret gave a gasp.

‘He looks so old and sick,’ she murmured.

He was in his study, swivelled around in his chair to face the camera. A sheaf of notes sat on his desk. He spoke in a strong, clear voice, at odds with his eroded, almost fragile appearance. ‘I want to place on record something of my recent researches and some of the problems that have been thrown up. I was commissioned by Edward Tarelton to investigate the possibility of tapping into the vast aquifer that lies beneath the Sydney basin. This contains an incalculable volume of pure water, access to which could solve urban Sydney’s water problem long into the future.

‘The existence of this water has been known for a very long time and many geologists and other scientists have attempted to find a method of utilising it. Parts of the deposit have been tapped apparently successfully but problems of subsidence have arisen as a result. Buildings have cracked and require stabilisation. This will continue. However, my investigations reveal that the greater part of the aquifer is sealed off from the portions that have been tapped and remain intact and undisturbed. A heavy, apparently impenetrable layer of sandstone overlays the main body of the aquifer. Any attempt to blast through this layer, even in the event of its highly unlikely success given the density and thickness of the layer, would result in the release of the water under such pressure that no monitoring device could control it.

‘I believe I have a found a site where the aquifer could be safely tapped, given a very considerable investment of capital, the carrying out of a meticulous environmental impact survey, and the employment of highly trained and principled technicians. I’ve also devised the correct technique for the operation to be done safely. Under the terms of my contract-a secret agreement entered into between Tarelton Explorations and myself to preserve confidentiality-I am obliged to provide this information to the company. I have not done so. In fact, after I became aware of certain things, I have provided misleading and erroneous information.’

I hit PAUSE.

‘Jesus,’ Margaret said, ‘this is big. Have you ever heard of this aquifer thing?’

‘All I know about it is what I’m learning now.’

I pressed PLAY again.

‘The confidentiality I spoke of has been breached,’ McKinley went on. ‘And I believe there are now two other organisations who are aware of my researches and have received the preliminary, positive reports I tendered to Tarelton. This information has come to me through a source I trust-one of my research assistants at Tarelton- Susan O’Neil. According to Dr O’Neil, Tarelton has entered into agreements with Lachlan Enterprises and Global Resources in violation of my agreement with Tarelton.

‘My own subsequent enquiries suggest that all three companies have serious and suspect political connections and are more like rivals than cooperative partners. Perhaps Edward Tarelton has made a mistake in recruiting the others. I assume he needs the capital. But the upshot is that I no longer feel prepared to report in full on my research. I now believe that whatever organisation possesses this data will use it to circumvent legal requirements and will attempt to exploit the aquifer for purely selfish, commercial purposes.

‘Serious environmental damage and harm to large sections of residential and business areas would result from irresponsible tapping and exploitation of what I call the greater aquifer.

‘Again, this is clearly contrary to my arrangement with Tarelton, which was that all legal conditions governing the aquifer would be met, with the company deriving an appropriate reward, but no more. The state government has the rights to the deposit, but may make arrangements for its use. I fear that political and commercial considerations may override ethics at this point. I was excited by the research project, seduced by the funds and expertise available to me and I was naive.’

I paused the disc again. ‘This is heavy stuff,’ I said. ‘He’s talking about three competitors, all looking to make dodgy millions from his work done in good faith. Sorry, Margaret, I’m really talking to myself. Trying to get a handle on this.’

Margaret said, ‘Each one of them with reasons to steal what he discovered or. . kill him. I need a drink.’

She went out to the kitchen and came back with two glasses-solid scotches with water. ‘Go on,’ she said.

McKinley’s frozen image came to life again. ‘I have reason to believe that these. . competing forces, shall I call them, are aware of my hesitation and will continue, in their different ways, to bring pressure to bear. I have been virtually threatened by Tarelton and Lachlan and offered a ridiculous inducement by Global Resources, which I refused, not that there was any possibility of their actually paying it.

‘I believe my life is in danger and I am trying to think of a secure way to document the site and the technique so that the legal and ethical standards can be met. I haven’t yet come up with one and I’m making this record just to. . I suppose protect myself. I’m confused and unwell. The strain of this problem has affected my health, which has always been excellent. I am short of breath and subject to episodes of fatigue quite unfamiliar to me.

‘I’ve thought of approaching the police, but one of the threats I mentioned actually came from a police officer and I know that at least two of the involved companies have corrupt senior government ministers working in their interest. I’m considering going higher, but water is now such a political, moral and environmental touchstone that I don’t know who to trust. .’

Margaret covered her eyes with one hand and gestured for me to stop the recording.

‘Poor, poor Dad,’ she said. ‘Why didn’t he hop on a plane and. .’

I shook my head. ‘I suspect he was aware of being watched, and the last thing he would have wanted would be to draw you and Lucinda into the mess.’