Forgotten (47 page)

Macey sat in
his dingy corner, appearing like an out-of-shape wrestler who had
just won his first round. When he spoke again, his voice was all
cynicism and false concern. “Didn’t expect that one?”

Of course,
he hadn’t. “Why?”

“
Initially,
I only wanted Claudia scared off. But when
you
entered the scene, well…
that just promoted her to an entirely new category. You were the
stature of person who could unbury too many things that need to
remain buried, as good secrets should be. As I saw it, with Claudia
gone, it would then get you off my back.”

“
Did you
really think I would’ve dropped the case if Claudia was
killed?”

“
Through all
I’ve learnt about you, the man whose lungs survive with the belief
of virtuous revenge, once you got Basteros and those responsible,
yes, I trusted you would have.”

Macey was right.

He
was also
wrong.

Because with Claudia, it was different.

And as
Reardon was fast discovering, with Claudia it was always different.
“And you wanted her scared off… why?”

“
In case she
remembered, of course, remembered…
Araneya
.”

The name hung in the muggy, still air
between them, mysterious and evil. Reardon licked his dried lips
once. “What happened to Claudia there?”

“The girl who lived like a pompous little
princess after her screwed-up parents dumped her?”

“You tell me.”

Macey fell
silent;
long minutes passed. When he
looked back up, something had changed. “Several of us had a
fraternity there many years ago.”

“I know about it.”

Macey
appeared unsurprised. “Every month we’d go hunting in the local
forests. It was our way of surviving what we suffered in Vietnam.
During one of our meets, a young boy was killed.”

“Benjamin Lucas.”

Macey nodded. “Termed a hunting accident.
All very sad for the parents.”

“
And your
fraternity wasn’t involved?”

“
Of course
we weren’t involved. We even had witnesses to prove it. But the
community reactions were different. They needed someone to blame
for such a heinous crime. As we happened to be hunting that day, we
became their principal target. And as the old adage goes, when
enough mud is hurled, some of it eventually sticks. You can’t
imagine what it was like for us.”

“
I can’t
imagine what it was like for Benjamin Lucas’ parents.”

Macey
grunted. “I sympathized with their loss; we all did. But we
were
not
responsible. And then… then Ricky Taccone happened. Not
that anyone cared about him, other than us.”

“What do you mean?”

“
Ricky had a
lot of difficulty adjusting after Vietnam; more than the rest of
us. The disparaging way people behaved towards us when we returned
from a war that
they
decided we shouldn’t have participated in. The
whole thing was a political nightmare, but it didn’t help the
number of good men who fought there. The entire Benjamin Lucas
affair, the unjust condemnations, well… it hit a bitter nerve in
us. As for Ricky? It was the last straw. He simply ran out of
juice.” Macey closed his eyes. “He went out to the forest and shot
himself.”

There was
silence for a moment, strange, very heavy. Macey’s expression
appeared genuinely sorrowful. “The community saw his act as one of
remorse. It satisfied their ridiculous conviction of us and felt
that justice had been done. My father used his prominence amongst
certain circles to have much of the incident suppressed, our names
excluded from any police reports, including the existence of our
fraternity.”

“You mean they were bribed.”

“I prefer to deem it as donations to worthy
causes. Nonetheless, in time, it all became a distant memory.”

“
A memory
that Claudia, to this day, doesn’t have. Sorry. Senator, that makes
no sense.”

Macey eyed
him. “You must know what I stand for.”

“
You
’re advocacy for anti-gun
laws. An irony in light of your past.”

“
Take it as
you will, but the fact remains I’m not just
any
advocate. My
family and I have been one of the most devoted campaigners for a
very long time, particularly since the Port Arthur massacre in ‘96.
That event alone transformed gun control in Australia. Do you know
as a country we have some of the most regulated firearms
legislation in the world?”

“
Impressive.” Reardon deliberately checked his watch. “But
let’s keep on topic.”

Macey
continued. “If the other political parties and the pro-gun
activists got wind of my past, it would destroy my credibility, the
credibility of my party and everything I’ve worked so hard for. As
for the voters? People are such fickle creatures; support you with
their lives for years and drop you at the first scent of a
scandal.”

Reardon
accepted much of what Macey was saying. The popularity of certain
politicians was often tenuous and relied heavily upon the public’s
trust in them. A twenty-year-old scandal such as the one Macey
described would provide ample fodder to any group wanting to see
Macey’s reputation destroyed.

But….

“
I
understand your motivations. But it still doesn
’t explain Claudia’s repression. There has to be something
more.”

“
Can
’t you just accept it for what
it was?”

“
A rather
imprudent statement, Senator. Now I
know
there’s something
more.”

December 29, 2010

12:3
5 am

MACEY
FEIGNED A
long, wide yawn. “And the game
continues. One that may have no winner.”

“
A winner
doesn’t concern me. Claudia does.”

“
That’s
becoming more and more apparent.”

Reardon began playing with his watch. It was
made of brushed, polished stainless steel. Its light blue glow
emitted everything from the expected time to its Omega brand name.
He snapped the clasp open, close … open again.

Macey
groaned. “In any good game, Reardon, true opponents take turns.
Think I’m well overdue for mine, don’t you?”

Reardon
wasn’t happy providing his adversaries turn-taking time, thinking
time or any other such time. It gave them too many opportunities to
be creative. But his mentor’s past words crossed his head
again.

Sometimes it is in the lies that one finds
the most truths.

Reardon
decided to play. “As long as you keep the questions
relevant.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Knew that one of the doers was none other
than Senator Carlos Macey?”

Macey grinned, a disturbingly boastful
grin.

“Alias Wesson?”

The grin broadened further.

“
Alias…
Charles
Smith.
”

The grin died faster than rats in a cyanide
experiment.

“What crap are you talking about?”

“
Don
’t Senator. In your words
‘with all you have learnt about me,’ I wouldn’t suggest suddenly
playing the simpleton. Your name gave you away.”

Macey was quiet, his eyes shrewd and
watchful.

“
Charles
- the Anglicized version
of Carlos.
Smith
- Smith and Wesson - Wesson being your other
alias. And then there’s the acronym. Souza, Macanetti, Iacovelli,
Taccone and finally, Hercolani, their initials spelling your fake
surname, SMITH. Coincidence? Not normally a fan. But I fail to see
what else it could be. So then, I have to wonder, why wasn’t
Cabriati included? Didn’t his initial fit your word
play?”

“Fuck you, Reardon.”

“
My, where’s
the sportsmanship. But, I digress. The Charles Smith of two years
back did searches on behalf of racketeering cartels wanting to
employ certain people. So I get to thinking, what if he already
had
his
own
racketeering organization,
something Cabriati wanted no part of.”

“
This is all
very fascinating, but there’s the small matter of proof to
substantiate such ridiculous accusations.”

“
You
’re absolutely right, but as
you know, there
is
no proof. You’ve learnt to cover your tracks
well. In fact, I had some of my best look into it. Charles Smith,
entrepreneur and racketeer doesn’t even exist.”

“Subject concluded then.”

Reardon
feigned concern. “No, not my style. I enjoy the closure too much.
So I delve some more. And guess what I find? A slight detail you
overlooked. Mark Hollinger.”

“
The news
reporter?” Macey laughed. “That’s sheer desperation.”

“
No, that’s
sheer optimism and one that paid off. Interesting addition, Mark
Hollinger. However, he was your addition. Or so you thought. The
whole airport scene? On national news? Great acting, I have to say,
on all your parts.

Firstly,
Hollinger eagerly chasing you, then pinning you down for an
interview you supposedly tried to dodge. And then another one of
your faithful
dogsbodies,
Cole Ryker, the tough guy with the buzz cut
standing next to Hollinger; he pretending to intimidate you,
especially with the whole whisper in the ear act.”

Macey tried to interrupt.

“
Shh…
Senator,” Reardon said softly. “I’m still answering
your
question from
your
turn.”

The Senator steepled his stubby fingers and
gritted his teeth.

“
But it was
your performance that outdid both Ryker and Hollinger. That
expression of pure, gut-wrenching fear was truly a
winner.”

“
Maybe I was
fearful,” Macey hissed. “Maybe I wanted my loyal public to see how
truly concerned I am with the gun laws in this country.”

“
Oh, I
don
’t think your loyal public was your
intended audience, Senator. Vincent Cabriati was.”

Macey’s eyes
shriveled. “I don’t give a fuck about Cabriati.”

“
On the
contrary, I think you do. I think he has some hold over you; that
if any harm ever befell his precious daughter, he’d immediately
know it was you. It’s why you didn’t have Claudia killed after
Alice Polinski
or
after Simon Struthers.

However
, after the brutal and
still unsolved murders of two of the clan, you saw a prime
opportunity to get rid of her, planning it to happen while
thousands witnessed you traipsing through Canberra airport. You
hoped that by displaying a certain level of public fear, that
that’d stave off any suspicions on Cabriati’s part.”

Something
shady registered in Macey’s expression, and Reardon knew his
suppositions were correct. He pressed on. “What you hadn’t expected
was the failed attempt on Claudia’s life, something you weren’t
aware of at the time of the interview.”

“
So what if
I hadn
’t? It means nothing in the scheme
of things.”

“
It means
everything. Your exact words to Hollinger
, ‘My condolences go out to each and every member of those
four families.’
Bad mistake on your part.
At that stage, there were three families involved and
only
three. Alice Polinski, Iacovelli and Souza. Your seasoned
arrogance had unwittingly included Claudia’s death in your
calculations.”

“You think too much.”

“
Occupational hazard. But, again, I sidestep. The name,
Hollinger, was irritatingly familiar. Turns out to be the same
surname as the guy who shot Thomas Bellante, a
Patrick
Hollinger.
More coincidences? Again, not a fan. More delving and I discover
that Mark Hollinger is Patrick Hollinger’s son. But you probably
already knew that.”

Reardon
rubbed his slightly stubbly chin. “Now, I’m only guessing, but I
think that you, as Smith, promised Patrick Hollinger something if
he took the fall for Bellante. Patrick Hollinger, with all his drug
issues, naively believed you. But not so naive that he didn’t pass
the state of affairs onto his son, just in case something unnatural
happened to him while serving his sentence. Something did. Daddy
Hollinger died in prison from a massive overdose soon
after.

Enter the
son, Mark. He joins your camp on the false pretext of following his
father’s loyal footsteps, but all along, he only wants reliable
proof to destroy you. Funny thing about revenge, it’s a need that
time merely perpetuates. I know that better than most. Right now
Mark is exercising that need, even though he had initially
considered doing it with the federal police.”

Moisture
bubbled on Macey’s broad forehead.

“
You
’re bluffing.”

For once
Reardon wasn
’t. The information he
received on Mark and Patrick Hollinger was bona fide. And Mark
Hollinger was exactly where Reardon claimed, with his men, happily
spilling his guts, in the promised knowledge that the ‘gut
spilling’
would be to his advantage. “Ah,
there’s that
bluff
word again. Tut, tut, Senator. I wonder if you
know me at all.”