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‘Who’d read the Bible?’

He laughed. ‘Steve, when he was a kid. He wasn’t a Christian anymore, but he was a good, gentle… Shit, I’m having trouble saying this.’

‘Take your time, Charlie.’

He sniffed and did a bit of beard stroking. ‘When Rog drew up the agreement, Mark insisted that he put in a clause that sort of put everything on hold if I… exhibited signs of drug use and paranoia again. That survived into the revised agreement Stefan masterminded. I’m clean now but, you know, I get intense… See the picture?’

‘I think so. If you go to the police with your suspicions, that could screw up the float plan.’

‘That’s it. I’m taking a bit of a risk just coming here. Stefan’s got someone watching me, but I gave her the slip.’

‘Her?’

‘Yes, this woman he’s sort of sicked on to me. Amie.’

‘You don’t like her?’

‘She’s stupid. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not gay or anything. I’m just not interested in sex.’

‘What are you interested in, Charlie?’

He looked down at the wine in his cup but clearly had no intention of drinking it. He leaned forward to put the cup on the desk. ‘I’m very interested in staying alive, Cliff. That’s why I’m here.’

Charlie Marriott told me the float would go through at the end of that week and if he could stay alive and at liberty for that long he’d be in a position to stop Stefan Sweig from selling the firm off to the multinationals.

‘Too much of our IT industry is going offshore,’ he said. ‘Jesus Christ, the federal government is doing it now. The finance minister’s gung-ho about it. I… we investigated one of these outsourcing deals for a client who was interested in getting into it. Found it’d be a great deal for him. I did a check of my own, just for fun, on what the government said it’d save. It was bullshit. If anything it’d cost the taxpayer money in the long run. Can you imagine the US government selling off the IT arm of the Internal Revenue Service to, say, France? That’s virtually what’s happening here.’

He was excited again. I had to get him back on track. ‘At liberty,’ he’d said. ‘What about this mental instability clause?’ I asked him.

‘That’s what I meant when I said Stefan might kill me or do something worse. Worse would mean being committed to a loony bin. That’d bring the clause into play and rule me out when it comes to voting on the shares. I know Stefan’s been reading up on psychology and such.’

‘How’d you know?’

‘This girl, this Amie, let it slip. As I said, she’s not too bright.’

‘Good-looking, though?’

‘Yeah. I suppose.’

‘What about after the float?’

He grinned; again, with the bad teeth, not quite parting the lips. ‘No, the original agreement dissolves and it’s all a new ball game after that. Some of the stuff to do with the float I don’t like, but I made sure there was nothing like that hanging over my head this time.’

I couldn’t say I liked it much, but I’d warmed to Charlie a bit and it had a certain interest. It was time I learned something about computers and this looked like a chance to do it. The prospect of five days of bodyguarding wasn’t exciting, but the money wouldn’t hurt. The mental instability factor worried me a little, but he seemed sane enough now, even if he was a bit of a two-pot screamer, to judge by the way the cask red had affected him. My doubt must have been showing because he took on that frightened look again.

‘You’re going to turn me down.’

I shook my head and got a contract form out of the desk drawer. ‘No, I’ll take it on.’ I slid the form across to him and he examined it as if he’d never seen anything like it before.

‘Shit,’ he said, ‘I’d forgotten there were still things like this. It all happens online now.’

‘Reckon you can master it?’

He pulled out a pen. ‘Sure, but you’re going to have to catch up to stay in business, Cliff.’

‘We can talk about that,’ I said. ‘What exactly did you have in mind for me to do, Charlie?’

He filled in the form quickly, took a cheque book from his jacket pocket, made a quick calculation and wrote out a cheque for five thousand dollars and passed it across to me.

‘That’s too much.’

‘Haven’t you ever heard of a bonus? If you’ve got a good spreadsheet you can work it in as… shit, I forgot. No spreadsheet?’

‘All I know about a spreadsheet is that it rhymes with bedsheet. You didn’t answer my question and I think I’d better get an answer before I sign this.’

‘Okay, well, I guess I’d like you to drive me to and from the office on the working days remaining until the float.’

‘That sounds all right. What about at home?’

‘Oh, my home’s secure. No problems there. Plus I’ve got a rifle.’

Have you? I thought. That’s a worry. ‘What about at work?’

He thought for a minute, fiddling with his now empty cup.

‘I don’t think I’m in any danger there. It’d be good if you showed up once or twice, just to get the message across, but I hardly think Stefan’d get Rudi to throw me out the window.’ He smiled when he said it, but his laugh was nervous.

‘Wouldn’t it be an idea for me to go around and see this Rudi and put him in the picture?’

‘No, no. Couldn’t do that. Stefan could use that as an excuse to have me examined… you know.’

I nodded but still didn’t sign. Charlie wrote a big, bold hand and the five grand was starting to look more and more attractive. I had rates to pay, credit cards and the Falcon needed work. ‘So how will it look when you show up in the office with a bodyguard?’

‘Shit, I hadn’t thought of that.’

I made my decision then; I wasn’t convinced that he was facing the danger he anticipated. I had a suspicion that paranoia was part of his make-up, but he clearly needed help of some kind and I was willing to go along for the ride. I signed the contract and handed him his copy.

‘Haven’t you got an uncle with some money who’s thinking of buying shares when you float the company? And isn’t he the careful type who likes to take a good long look at things before he buys?’

Charlie let go the first full-bodied smile I’d seen from him.

‘I believe I do,’ he said. ‘And I believe he’s just that sort of guy.’

Marriott’s house was in Ryde; not my idea of a place to live, but conveniently close to Sydney’s Silicon Valley in Lane Cove. The deal we struck was that I’d see him from door to door tonight and for the next four mornings and put in an occasional appearance at the Solomon Solutions office. When he had to go out to meetings or other functions I’d tag along. If anyone asked how come Uncle Cliff was driving him around, my line was that I was semi-retired from owning and driving a taxi and that driving was in my blood. Plus I was happy to do it for my favourite nephew who was going to make me rich.

We nutted some of this out as we drove from Darlinghurst towards the North Shore.

‘It sounds a bit thin,’ I said.

Charlie looked tired now, as if the effort of coming to see me and unburdening himself, plus the couple of red wines, had wearied him. He shrugged. ‘But it’s feasible, and they can’t lock me away on account of it.’

‘Won’t Stefan twig?’

‘Maybe. I don’t mind that. I don’t object to playing a few mind games with Stefan.’

And who else? I wondered, but I drove on.

The traffic was heavy. The free-flowing traffic of the Olympic fortnight, when people had left their cars at home and enjoyed the efficient public transport, was all over. We were back to our bad habits, with cars driving into and out of the city containing one person. I’m an offender myself, but at least now I wasn’t the worst. The politician who keeps cars out of the city and establishes drive-and-park points, or at least institutes an odds and evens numberplate system, will get the boot but he’ll be a sainted benefactor. Don’t hold your breath.