Follow the Money

'Yeah, I know, but this is a personal matter.'

'It's always personal with you. I'm not going to help you talk your way into court and gaol… again.'

'Hey, did I tell you I'm going to be a grandfather?'

'No. What? When? Hey, Hilde, Megan's pregnant.'

He was talking to his wife, Hilde Stoner, who'd been a tenant of mine when I was battling to meet the mortgage after Cyn had flown the coop. I'd introduced them. I could hear a squeal from Hilde (the Parkers had grandchildren, twins, they were devoted to). Then Frank came back on the line.

'You're working me, you bastard. OK, what is it?'

'I need to get in touch with Stephen Chang, you remember, we-'

'I remember. Shit, the Wong brothers. Don't tell me you're going down that road again.'

'Obliquely,' I said. 'Can you get me a number?'

I could hear Hilde asking for more details about the prospective Hardy grandchild and Frank fending her off. His voice when he came back was full of resignation.

'Hilde says congratulations. Me too. I'll put you on to Steve Chang only because I know he's sensible enough not to have anything to do with you. When're we going to see you?'

'Soon.'

'Yeah. I'll text you, Cliff.'

The text came through soon after I took the clothes out of the dryer. The jeans were tight around the waist. I had to get back to the gym more often, charity case or not. Sucking in the love handles, zipping up, I rang the number Frank had given me.

'Chang.'

Like the Wongs, Stephen Chang's forebears had been in Australia longer than some of mine. His accent was pure Sydney.

'This is Cliff Hardy. I don't know what to call you these days. I'm betting you're not just a senior constable anymore.'

'Detective Inspector. It's been a long time. What can I do for you, Mr Hardy?'

It used to be Cliff, but he'd gone up and I'd gone down and he was being careful.

'I'm dealing with something involving our old friends the Wong brothers. I thought you might be able to help me.'

'How do you mean dealing? I understood you were retired.'

'It's a long story. Could we meet? What's your role these days?'

'I'm heading up a unit looking into Asian crime and certain links.'

There'd been a spate of home invasions recently. One had resulted in the death of an elderly couple and in another, a policeman called to the scene had been left in a coma by the attackers. He wasn't expected to recover and the affair had caused a lot of law and order activity among the politicians. It didn't surprise me that a task force had been appointed.

'Home invasion, you mean? Drugs? Freddy Wong was into home invasion ten years back,' I said.

'So he was-a sideline of his. It's a bit broader than that. I suppose we could have a talk. Are you still in Glebe?'

I said I was and we arranged to meet in the coffee bar next to the old Valhalla theatre, now defunct and awaiting its fate. It was a few minutes walk away for me. I knew that the number I'd rung was the Surry Hills police centre. Chang gave himself an hour to get there. Friday traffic.

Anti-discrimination laws put an end to the police imposing a minimum height requirement for recruits. This allowed quite a few Asians to join who were previously excluded. Didn't apply to Stephen Chang; he stood 190 centimetres and had played basketball at university. He'd made pretty good time and I was only hanging around briefly before he showed up. Smart suit, overcoat, no tie. A lot of grey in his hair, although he couldn't have been more than thirty-five. We shook hands and took seats at an outside table. I turned the collar of my jacket up against the cold.

'So,' Chang said, 'you don't look so bad for someone who's lost his licence and had a heart attack.'

'I'm OK. You look… authoritative. Coffee?'

We ordered and I gave him an outline of how the man who'd hired me to investigate an alleged death had named as a witness someone who'd been murdered the very next day, gone into hiding and emerged to meet with Freddy and Lester Wong and hadn't looked happy. His level of interest lifted sharply when I mentioned the man who had joined the group and provoked discord.

'Lebanese?'

I shrugged. 'Could be.'

'This is interesting. You haven't told me the name of your client and I'm not surprised because you're not supposed to have any bloody clients. Who was murdered?'

I don't know what it was: my lack of status, my health, my financial situation, my approaching grandfatherhood, but I was acutely aware that I needed help. 'Stefan Nordlung,' I said.

Chang almost choked on the dregs of his flat white. 'Christ almighty, Hardy. Do you have any idea what you've got yourself into?'

8

Chang told me that part of his brief was to investigate links between Asian and Lebanese criminals and that marine insurance scams were one of the areas of concern, along with drugs, people smuggling and extortion.

'What's the name of your task force?'

Chang smiled. 'It's a serious investigative unit, so it doesn't have a silly name. The people we're interested in launder drug and extortion money by buying boats, insuring them, scuppering them and collecting the insurance. Then they collect on the salvage. Sometimes they rehabilitate the boat altogether and go through the process again. They have people inside the insurance companies playing along, also some inside finance companies. It's complex, with all sorts of legal and accounting tangles.'

I said I knew Nordlung had been involved in a dodgy insurance deal. 'But he isn't Asian or Lebanese.'

'His wife's Chinese.'

'Her name's Gretchen.'

'She changed it. We think Nordlung was up to his balls and beyond in this stuff. Something must've gone wrong and he paid a price. He wasn't the only one. These people don't hesitate to clean a slate. How did you know about Nordlung?'

I produced DS Caulfield's card. 'He told me. I assume you're working together on this?'

Chang smiled. 'How much do you know about police politics?'

I knew a fair bit from personal experience and talking with Frank Parker over the years. The old antagonism between the 'kneelers' and the 'shakers'-the Catholics and the Masons- had given way to divisions over the roles of specialised units and the personalities of senior officers. With a bit of intrastate and federal/state rivalry thrown in. I watched Chang push the card away.

'Not a team?' I said.

'Not exactly. Caulfield's Serious Crimes. They're not enamoured with a unit headed up by a slope with a Muslim 2IC. These are murky waters you've got into, Cliff.'

So I was Cliff again. 'Caulfield warned me off. Are you doing the same?'

'No, I'm thinking you could be very useful.'

***

After all the years I'd spent in the investigation business I thought I'd seen and experienced just about everything, but Chang's proposition was something new.

'You want me to act as an undercover cop?'

'Something like that, yes.'

'Why would I do that?'

'Why not? Are you telling me you've never pretended to be something you weren't before?'

'Of course not, but…'

'But what?'

I hadn't identified my client (if that was the word), but it wouldn't have taken Chang long to work it out. A quick call to Caulfield would do the trick whether they were simpatico or not. Although everything was getting tricky I still felt some provisional loyalty towards Standish until I could be convinced he didn't deserve it. I thought about how desperate he'd looked in the restaurant and how little effect May Ling's solicitude was having. Given her allure that was true desperation.

'I've got an obligation.'

'Of course you have, but you've already told me that the man you have an obligation to didn't look comfortable with the Wongs and the Middle Easterner-let's call him a Lebanese. I'm telling you that if your man is involved with the Asian/Lebo connection the best way you could help him would be to help get some of those bastards into court.'