The Girl in Steel-Capped Boots (26 page)

Fish’s eyes lit up. ‘The barge crane is as good as the shiploader. It’d work for me too.’

‘Yeah well,’ Gavin snorted. ‘It seems like you guys get a good deal, but it’s not like the skids can drive piles. And what about the guys in the yard? There’s no advantage for them and they’re always waiting in between tasks.’

‘Perhaps the boys fuckin’ around in the yard can install trusses instead.’ Carl rubbed his chin. ‘The yard crane’s got a boom long enough to install some trusses from the land.’

‘Also, if we’re busy installing, we won’t need our painters. You can have those, Gavin,’ Lena suggested.

He didn’t look pleased. ‘I still get the worst bargain.’

‘But you’re running the least behind,’ Harry spoke up. ‘Piling is only five per cent behind schedule, whereas everything else is back to ten per cent or more.’

Carl rubbed a weary hand across his forehead. ‘This is going to be a bastard to organise. The kinda bullshit you don’t want is for someone to end up waiting on equipment they’ve lent out to someone else to stop them fuckin’ waiting.’

Lena nodded. ‘Like I said, it’s a board game. But we need to remove the dice. We need a detailed plan not a play-as-you-go attitude.’

‘Well, let’s fuckin’ get one asap.’ Carl stood up, shuffling his files. ‘Everyone meet back here tomorrow with their targets; we’re going to play this board game to the end on paper.’

Just for fun, Harry and Lena got together later that day and actually made a mock-up board game of the whole project. They stuck together the pages of a month-by-month calendar to make a long playing board, where each day was a move. Then Lena made a little model of each piece of equipment out of bits of cardboard and sticky tape. They also made up a few giant maps of the jetty so at any point during the day, they could put all their playing pieces on and see who was doing what, where.

These visual props turned out to be a real aid at their meeting on Friday. Even Gavin had to concede that the plan might work. It eased Lena’s sadness about Dan and the crap they were getting from the men. In any case, the next day was her last day on the Pilbara before a one-week holiday in Perth. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or anxious given Dan was going to be at the airport. She asked Sharon to drop her off on Sunday morning as she seemed like the safest bet. Anyone else would have made remarks laced with innuendo the whole way there.

The terminal wasn’t very busy so she noticed Dan straight away after she walked through the entrance. He looked tired
and handsome at the same time and her heart beat faster. With one hand in his pocket and a backpack slung over his shoulder, he was scanning the floor for someone. The happiness that had been growing since the success of her board game was pumped up even further by the idea that it might be her.

Just then their eyes met and he raised a hand in greeting. Her step quickened and he came forwards, the crisp scent of his aftershave surrounding her as they connected. He put his hand over the handle of her suitcase, their skin touching briefly as he gently pulled it out of her grasp.

‘Here, I’ll help you with that.’

The suitcase wheels clicked with his faster pace and she doubled hers to keep up.

‘Are you sure you should be doing that?’ she hissed, feeling like some heroine out of a period romance who’d organised a secret rendezvous with her beau.

‘I’ve already been punished for being on the same flight as you.’ He grimaced. ‘I might as well enjoy it.’

Enjoy it.

She savoured the words. They were going to Perth together. Excitement and trepidation gripped her. There were no spectators there. No gossips. They were free to be whoever they wanted to be.

As if on cue, her conscience reared its head.
What about Kevin? What about your promise? Are you that weak-willed that you no longer care?

But as she looked up at Dan there wasn’t even a flicker of the gallant beau in his eyes. He wasn’t here to be with her: he was here because he had to go to court. Given the forbidding expression marring his attractive features, that’s what he was thinking about, not a holiday fling or a forbidden romance. And who could blame him for that?

He paused uncertainly as they got into the short line to check in. ‘I . . . er . . . thought we could get a seat together and catch up on what’s been going on.’

The vulnerability in his voice touched her. His hard facade was starting to slip whenever they spoke and she liked that. She nodded. ‘Sure.’

He looked down at her giant red suitcase with a glimmer of a smile. ‘You don’t travel light, do you?’

Lena sniffed. ‘This is very light for me. You should have seen me three months ago.’

After securing a window seat together they didn’t have long to wait before boarding. She was looking forward to being able to relax after all the craziness. But most of all, she was looking forward to sitting next to Dan without anyone watching or judging.

‘So did the men get stuck into you too?’ Dan asked when they were seated.

‘From what Sharon tells me, you’ve definitely had the worst of it.’

He pulled an in-flight magazine from the seat pocket in front of him. ‘I’m just sorry you’ve had to go through it at all.’

She looked at his face. The lines of concern cut deep. His blue eyes searched hers as though looking for hints of wear and tear.

‘Stop that.’ She laughed. ‘I’m fine.’

His eyes lifted and he nodded. She was sad she hadn’t seen them sparkle since that time in the laundry when he’d given her red bra back.

They’d been flirting. She hadn’t realised it at the time, or noticed the blooming of forbidden feelings. But in hindsight, she wished for that confusing time again. At least it didn’t rub as raw as all this clarity.

‘I heard about some of the pranks they played on you,’ she began and he shot her a wry smile.

‘I’ll give them points for imagination, that’s for sure. Though, I’ll admit, at times I found it difficult not to lose my temper.’ He paused. ‘It’s unfortunate I can’t avoid the court summons – I hate adding fuel to the fire.’

‘Have you known for a while that you’d be in court this month?’ she asked tentatively.

The hand on the armrest next to her clenched involuntarily. And she realised then how much Dan was hiding from her. The tight-lipped disapproval he generally displayed was in fact a Band-Aid for a much deeper emotional wound. This trip was costing him more than he was letting on. ‘Yes.’

Their difficulties with the men on site paled in significance to what he was about to go through when he got to Perth.

She licked her lips. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

He looked at her sharply, his customary facade back in place – or at least a softer version of it. ‘No. Thank you.’

She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to pretend. A person couldn’t be strong all the time. But she knew it would be like throwing darts at a whiteboard, so instead she asked another question. ‘How long will the hearing take?’

‘I’ve been told three days, maybe four, depending on how long it takes to examine all the witnesses.’

He was silent, staring ahead at moving images she couldn’t see.

‘Will your family be there?’ she asked softly.

‘I assume so. I haven’t seen them in a long time.’

‘How long?’

He let out a ragged breath. ‘Just over three years.’

Her eyes widened. That was almost as long ago as the accident. So the first time he was going to see them again was in open court. It was too much.

‘Dan –’

‘Lena.’ He cut her off and once again the hand on the armrest clenched. ‘I don’t want to drag you into this. This is my battle, which I need to fight alone.’

‘Why?’ she demanded. His expression hardened but he said nothing. She understood, though. He blamed himself for his brother’s death.

‘What happened to Mark wasn’t your fault,’ she said quietly.
‘Punishing yourself doesn’t help anyone. All it does is encourage your family to behave badly.’

‘You wouldn’t know, Lena.’ She could see him mentally slamming the doors and boarding up the windows of his heart. ‘You weren’t there.’

‘Then tell me what happened.’

‘You already know more than I ever wanted you to find out.’ He shook his head.

She was fighting phantoms. She wanted to stamp her foot at his stubbornness, until she realised that she, too, could be stubborn. ‘Dan, I want to go to court with you.’ There was no way she was going to let him face the family he hadn’t seen in three years by himself, with not a single friendly face in the room.

His gaze swung to hers, hope and denial clashing in his eyes. She knew his heart craved support, but that damned male ego of his wouldn’t allow it. One fierce word whooshed out of his lungs. ‘
No
.’

‘You need me.’ She made her face stern. ‘I know you don’t want to admit it, so this time I’m letting you off the hook. But I’m coming whether you like it or not.’

‘Stay away.’ He grabbed her wrist, his fingers crushing her leaping pulse. ‘Promise me you’ll stay away.’

His expression was desperate, urgent, tortured. They both knew he couldn’t stop her. Anyone could watch an open court case in session if they had the inclination.

When she said nothing, he dropped her wrist and looked away. ‘You’ve never listened to me before. I don’t know why I expected it to be different this time.’ His jaw jerked and she knew he was grinding his teeth. His eyes flashed as he looked back at her. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

The Supreme Court of Western Australia was located in the heart of the city of Perth. Ironically, the court was surrounded by a stunning and immaculately kept garden – a bid to take the bite out of a conviction. However, the beauty of the surrounds gave Lena little comfort as she made her way up the shaded paths. She took a seat in the second row of the public gallery, wanting Dan to be able to see her when he went on the witness stand.

In fact, the only reason she hadn’t taken a seat in the front row was because there was someone already there and she didn’t want to crowd them. The blonde woman seated there was in her early thirties and far too skinny. Her bones were large and protruded sharply on her face and limbs, like she’d once been rather well built but in recent years had been having problems eating. She didn’t look at Lena: her attention was focused solely on the bailiff, the two waiting lawyers and the empty judge’s seat. The hands in her lap wrung without pause and Lena was willing to bet she was closely involved. Perhaps she was even Dan’s sister-in-law.

When an elderly couple entered the gallery and sat down beside the woman, the older woman taking the blonde’s hand
and squeezing it, Lena knew she was right. This was Dan’s family. They looked harmless and worn and dreadfully sad. Could they really be so heartless?

The bailiff, a middle-aged man dressed smartly in black and white with gold crowns on his lapels, addressed the court. ‘All rise.’

As she stood, Lena heard a knock at the door to the right of the judge’s desk and then it was opening. Two men, the judge and his associate, entered the courtroom. The judge’s expression was indifferent as he sat down under the Queen’s coat of arms. There was no jury – as this was a civil case, the judge would decide the verdict. Lena didn’t know whether to be glad or worried about that and had no time to contemplate it.

Two lawyers stood robed at the bar table facing the judge’s bench: Sarah Michaels and an older man. When the opening formalities were over, the judge said, ‘Mr Carter?’

‘Your honour,’ the man next to Sarah began, ‘this suit brought by the plaintiff, Angela Hullog, seeks damages arising out of her husband’s death caused by the negligence of the defendant, Oswalds Proprietary Limited. It is alleged that her husband, Mark Hullog, died on a site inspection due to the inadequate supervision and training by Oswalds Proprietary Limited. As your honour is aware, the claim is fully particularised in the Papers for the Judge. I trust your honour has perused the papers?’

The judge grimaced. ‘I have, Mr Carter.’

‘Then in the circumstances,’ the lawyer nodded, ‘I will reserve further comment on the plaintiff’s cause of action for submissions and call the plaintiff’s first witness.’

‘Proceed,’ said the judge.

‘The plaintiff calls Daniel James Hullog.’

Lena’s breathing quickened as a door to her right opened and the bailiff escorted Dan into the room. His back was straight, his shoulders rigid. He’d put on his armour like a knight before battle. There would be plenty of arrows today.
She swallowed nervously as he was led to the witness stand. She didn’t know why she was so nervous but she was – tremblingly nervous – even though it was him standing behind the box swearing on the Bible to tell the truth. Her tongue darted over her parched lips as he looked up and their eyes met for the first time.

Like a wave, his disapproval and gratitude hit her, engulfing her body with their intensity. She got it all in that one long powerful moment, which he broke abruptly as though cutting her out of his head with a flick of his eyelids. Meanwhile, his voice to the bailiff was low and bland, at vast odds with the intensity of his stare. The lawyer’s first questions were boring and in Lena’s opinion inconsequential. But she knew Mr Carter was just trying to set the scene.

‘Mr Hullog,’ Mr Carter finally got down to business, ‘what was your professional relationship with the deceased?’

‘I was his manager at Oswalds Proprietary Limited. He assisted me with all my projects.’

‘And for how long did he assist you?’

‘About a year.’

‘And prior to that?’

‘He was at university.’

‘So this was, in fact, his first job since graduating.’

‘Yes.’

‘So would you say Mark Hullog was inexperienced?’

‘He had less than one year’s experience, so yes, I would.’

‘Objection.’ Ms Michaels rose hastily from her chair. ‘Opinion, your honour. Mr Hullog is not a recognised training expert: he cannot provide an opinion on whether the deceased was experienced; and he certainly can’t conclude whether the deceased was experienced or not.’

The judge nodded sagely. ‘Sustained.’

Mr Carter, unperturbed, changed tack. ‘Were you with Mark Hullog when he died?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where were the two of you?’

‘We were at MacArthur Lumber Mill attending a meeting with the lead foreman there.’

Mr Carter leaned forwards predatorily. ‘What occurred during the meeting?’

Dan swallowed. ‘When we arrived we watched a ten-minute safety presentation on video. We then met with the lead foreman, Andrew Carrington, inside the lumber mill. He showed us the faulty feeder we were there to inspect. Mark had brought a camera with him to take photos. He went inside the feeder while I was talking to Andrew Carrington . . .’ Dan swallowed again and there was a definite gruffness to his voice. ‘He became trapped in there, the feeder became active and . . . and it killed him.’

Lena shut her eyes, sending a silent message to the lawyer to give Dan a moment. He didn’t, moving straight along to the next callous question.

‘How did the machine kill him?’

For crying out loud.

Dan looked like he was about to throw up and there was a prolonged pause before he managed to reply.

‘It tore . . . and . . . crushed him to death.’

‘Objection!’ Sarah Michaels stood up angrily. And so she should. Lena glared at Mr Carter.

‘Sustained,’ the judge agreed. ‘Please refrain from theatrics in my court, counsel.’

Mr Carter said, ‘Your honour, it is crucial to the plaintiff’s case that your honour has before you evidence from witnesses on
precisely
how it was that the deceased died.’

The judge gestured for Mr Carter to continue. ‘So long as you keep it to evidence, Mr Carter.’

Mr Carter turned to Dan. ‘Was the deceased within your line of sight?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘What obstructed your view? Parts of the feeder?’

‘Yes, the machine . . . the lumber feeder blocked my view at times.’

‘So when the machine became active, you could see the deceased for part of the time as he was, to use your words, “torn and crushed” to death?’

For Pete’s sake.

Lena sent silent death threats to Mr Carter.

Dan, eyes reddening, choked out, ‘Yes.’

‘Objection!’

‘Overruled, Ms Michaels,’ the judge interjected blandly without looking up.

Mr Carter smiled faintly at his notes before addressing Dan again. ‘Did you tell the deceased not to go into the feeder?’

‘No.’

‘Then you told him to go into the feeder?’

‘No.’ Dan frowned. ‘We never discussed photographing inside the feeder. In fact, I don’t know why he went in. It’s obviously a dangerous machine: there were signs and stickers about how dangerous it was all over it.’

‘But
you
never discussed it with him and you
do not know
why he went in.’ Mr Carter repeated the words with slow succinctness. ‘As his supervisor, Mr Hullog, don’t you think you should have discussed the job in detail before you left for the lumber mill, including the dangers?’

Dan hesitated. ‘I did brief Mark before the meeting. I wasn’t aware of any gaps in his knowledge.’

‘I see. And how many inspections of this type had Mark Hullog been on previously, before this one killed him?’

Dan looked at him uncertainly as though trying to work out his angle. ‘I can’t remember for certain, but I think this was his first inspection.’

‘You think or you know?’

Dan sat back in his chair. ‘I can’t be certain.’

‘So again, you do not know. Well, if it was his first inspection, or even one of his first, could you not reasonably infer that there would be gaps in his knowledge?’

Dan sighed, looked down at his hands before glancing up again. ‘We have a safety induction program at Oswalds specifically for graduates, so they are prepared for dangers inherent in site visits. It’s a three-day course about how to be safe on construction sites, in factories, power stations and other types of plant. I assumed that Mark had attended the program.’

‘But you didn’t know for sure that he had, did you?’

‘No.’

‘When did you find out that Mark Hullog had not attended the induction program?’

Dan pursed his lips. ‘After the accident.’

‘You mean, after his death?’

Dan struggled. ‘Yes.’

‘Did it occur to you to check his attendance records prior to taking him to MacArthur Lumber Mill?’

A muscle flexed convulsively above Dan’s jawline. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘No reason, it just never entered my mind.’

‘Because the job was more important?’

Dan’s eyes narrowed on him. ‘No, because I assumed HR was tracking that and I would be notified if Mark wasn’t fit for site.’

‘So, as Mark Hullog’s manager, you took him on a site visit for which he needed to be cleared by your human resources department – a visit to a plant whose machinery had clear potential to compromise his safety. And you didn’t use your own initiative to confirm with HR that Mark was ready for a site visit? Is that your evidence?’

‘The feeder was obviously dangerous –’

‘Did you check with HR that Mark Hullog had been approved by Oswalds to go on dangerous site visits?’

‘No.’

‘If you had known at the time that the deceased had not undertaken the induction training, would you have taken him to the MacArthur Lumber Mill on the morning of his death?’

Dan hesitated. ‘No, I wouldn’t have.’

A thoughtful smile played around the corners of Mr Carter’s mouth. ‘So, if you had managed the deceased and not assumed facts about him, Mark Hullog would be alive today, wouldn’t he?’

Sarah stood up before Dan could answer.

‘Objection: conclusion.’

The judge nodded as he scribbled a note for himself. ‘Sustained.’

Mr Carter paused as he consulted his notes. ‘Let’s return to the safety video you watched when you arrived at MacArthur Lumber Mill, Mr Hullog.’ He looked up. ‘Did the video warn visitors about the machinery, in particular the dangers inherent in a feeder machine?’

‘Yes.’ Dan nodded. ‘Although it didn’t go into specifics, it warned us to keep away from live machinery unless accompanied by an experienced user.’

‘And you and the deceased both watched this video?’

‘Yes.’

‘Were you accompanied by an experienced operator when you went to see the feeder?’

‘Yes, both the foreman and one of his hands accompanied us.’

‘Did either of these men tell Mark Hullog to go inside the feeder?’

‘Not as far as I know.’

‘So neither you, nor any of these men, were in communication with Mark just before the accident? You could even say that he wandered off alone?’

‘He wasn’t very far away from us and I wouldn’t say he was alone.’

‘Just inadequately supervised then, Mr Hullog?’

Sarah Michaels rose abruptly. ‘Objection.’

The judge nodded. ‘Please refrain from leading the witness, Mr Carter.’ He tapped his pen impatiently on the paper in front of him. ‘Do you have anything further?’

‘No, your honour.’ Mr Carter shook his head and sat down.

Lena let out a breath that until now had been locked in her chest as the judge turned to Sarah Michaels.

‘Ms Michaels, do you wish to cross-examine the witness?’

‘I do, your honour.’ She stood up, arranging her black robes neatly in front of her skirt suit. Even as her eyes met Dan’s, Lena felt the tension in the room heighten. She was sending him a warning. He was straightening his shoulders again, metaphorically raising his shield for the first blow.

Lena didn’t like it. Something was up.

‘Mr Hullog, did you have a personal relationship with the victim?’

Dan’s body was impossibly rigid, his voice a rasp that came all the way from the back of his throat.

‘Yes.’

‘And what is that relationship?’

Dan looked down at his hands. Whatever colour that was left in his face drained away slowly but surely. ‘He was my . . . is my brother.’

Lena couldn’t understand it. What had changed? Why was Dan suddenly so anxious?

She wriggled impatiently in her seat as Sarah Michaels continued. ‘Was he suffering from any kind of medical condition at the time of the accident?’

‘Yes. Clinical depression.’

‘When was Mark Hullog diagnosed with this condition?’

‘About three months before the accident.’ Dan raised red-rimmed eyes that came to rest on Sarah; he was bracing himself for the final knife throw.

‘And what was the catalyst of this diagnosis?’

‘He attempted suicide.’