Читать книгу Pike's Pyramid - Michael Tatlow - Страница 13

His part of the restaurant had rotated around its core to the elevator as Richard De Groote strode from it. His timing was flawless; 8.05, ten minutes after Pike. Diners and staff stared, as if royalty had arrived.

A customary red rose bud decorated his grey suit. Australian Merino, no doubt, Pike mused, tailored in Italy. De Groote’s generous blond mane was swept back to the collar. Pike already felt a lesser being. They embraced warmly.

‘Hail the conquering hero!’ De Groote beamed. ‘How many millions have you made lately, Blarney?’ The group at the next table gawked.

‘Oh, just a few,’ Pike countered, grinning effacingly at the onlookers. ‘You’re looking well, fearless leader.’

At forty-six, De Groote had thirteen years on Pike but looked about the same age. He was big-boned and muscled, a head shorter and less sturdy than Pike.

‘Must be our vitamin program,’ De Groote smiled. Selling, selling. ‘And go to every swell affair,’ he sang with Sinatra.

‘The song’s a thoughtful touch, you old showman. Smoother than the Stanley Mixed Choir at my place after your show at the town hall.’

De Groote ordered a bottle of riesling. ‘Join me?’

‘No, thanks, Richard. I’m driving to Stanley tonight. This tarted-up apple juice is a lusty little number. Non-alcoholic.’

‘You’re on the wagon then?’ De Groote asked earnestly.

‘I’ve had a few grogs lately. Jack’s death didn’t help.’ Not even a frown. ‘And I couldn’t resist the overwhelming hospitality of Alex’s family at Christmas time. I weakened in Petrov, their little village in Moravia. The folk there make plonk fit for the gods. They call the best stuff altar wine, which doesn’t get to priests.’

…Who wants to wallow in champagne? I don’t, ’cause all I want is yooo. The song ended. The Vienna Strings took over.

‘Their hospitality is marvellous,’ Pike persisted. ‘We set up a little downline there. They’re looking forward to seeing you.’

De Groote picked up the menu. He was not interested in Czech hick villagers.

Pike prepared a salvo. He lowered his voice so it did not carry to the next table. ‘Even in thriving little Petrov, they said our stuff was too costly.’

De Groote interrupted tersely. ‘If people can’t afford the hundred-dollar starter kit and buy twice that value in initial product, you don’t want them in your network. They’re clutter.’

Pike ignored it. ‘We were clobbered again just before the national opening date when the prices our recruits pay for products jumped by thirty percent overnight.

‘It was a disaster!’ Pike pressed. ‘People we’d recruited reckoned we’d conned them. A few demanded their money back. I gave it to them, of course. They left, probably to bad-mouth us.’

De Groote looked unmoved. ‘You shouldn’t do that. Giving money back to them is a violation of the system.’

Prod him harder. ‘What a time for a price hike! Some people around the Republic couldn’t afford to buy even the damned soap powder or toothpaste for themselves, let alone find people to sell cameras and jewellery and computers to.’

The professor kept his eyes on the menu. ‘Prices are determined in New York, with contracted manufacturers all over the world. It’s top-class stuff. Marvellous value.’

‘I suppose on top of Argo’s product profits, the high rollers with networks in Prague, including you now, Richard, take thirty percent from product sales there. As you do here.’

‘You don’t know that,’ the professor declared bluntly. ‘It’s privileged information. Never, ever peddle that to your downline.’

Yes, master. Pike nodded his head in mock adulation. He had seen proof of the secret thirty percent. ‘And then there were the bloody Czech registration charges. We didn’t know a damn thing about that when we left Australia. A lovely little bloke called Pavel was our first Czech downline. He found out about the registration and taxes, and came back to me stunned.

‘He’s about forty, owns a little shop selling cakes his wife and mother make. You’ll love them. The future of Pavel’s family depends on us.

‘Pavel simply didn’t have the money to pay that rego tax and he was upset we hadn’t told him about it.’

Looking concerned now, De Groote nodded. Pike finished his cider. He pined for a cigarette.

‘Alex and I will keep faith with our Czechs,’ Pike said. ‘Pavel and Elishka have even got that article about you in Argo Life stuck up on the wall in their shop. They have five young kids, living in a four-room flat in a grey building that looks like a bloody great concrete brick. We want to give them the chance to get out of it!’

De Groote sipped his riesling, gazing out at the city lights through rain on the window. ‘Jerry happened to ring me after you called from Melbourne. He sends you and Alex his love. And he told me about Jack Sussoms’ death.

‘A horrid business. Abe Harbek’s top boys have had a good look at it. There’s no way that Argo people are involved.’

What else would they officially decide? Pike asked himself. ‘I’m not so sure,’ he replied. ‘Old Jack reckoned there’s a gang of network crooks who stood to lose millions, and go to jail, if he scuttled them.’

‘A random thief killed him, Blarney.’

‘So why take Jack’s pad of notes? Why leave behind a stack of travellers cheques? Why torture him?’

De Groote laughed dismissively. ‘There are no crooks in Argo. Old Jack had lost it.’

‘I saw a bit of Jack’s dossier about it, Richard. It’s missing.’

‘Jack was a master salesman, Blarney. He conned you.’

‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Pike allowed. ‘What a dream vehicle Argo is for peddling dope and washing money! People travelling everywhere. Cargoes paid for in cash, going all around the world. There are cut-throats in Prague who’d…’

De Groote looked pained. He knew manifestly that Jack Sussoms’ throat had been cut.

‘Sorry. There are crooks there,’ Pike hammered, ‘who’d kill you for a Starbucks voucher. And Argo’s ready-made for distributing weapons coming out of Russia. Jack was going to present his evidence to Abe Harbek.’

De Groote buttered a bread roll, looking further affronted. ‘If Abe’s team found any filth…’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Splat!’

‘And no publicity,’ Pike observed. He wondered to himself if Bell, and now De Groote, knew about the punch-up at Prague’s airport. He decided not to mention it.

‘Yes, Abe kept most of it out of the media,’ De Groote said. ‘Did you expect him to hold a news conference about Jack’s murder?’

The professor refilled his glass, aggravating Ned. ‘Today Jerry instructed that under no circumstances is the matter of Sussoms’ death, or anything less than positive achievement at the Czech Republic opening, to be reported to the downlines in Tasmania. Any violation will put the offender’s business in dire jeopardy.’ The blue eyes hardened. ‘Understood?’

Pike bleakly considered his empty glass. He felt like a kid in the headmaster’s office. This was not his main game tonight. ‘Gossip about the Czech mess and Jack’s killing would be damaging, I agree,’ he said lamely. ‘Spreading negativity would flatten our own business. You can tell Jerry the order will be obeyed.’

De Groote grinned triumphantly. ‘Splendid! Now, let’s order some food.’

A waiter took their orders. Entrees of Tasmanian oysters in their shells with locally farmed Atlantic salmon. De Groote’s main was to be roast venison. Pike was in near-salivating anticipation of a change from the salty fries of Czech cafes. He chose a baked Tasmanian rock lobster.

They dined agreeably. De Groote urged his charge to stay the night at the De Groote mansion half a kilometre away, by the beach.

After a moment’s consideration, Pike accepted. With his mounting lassitude and jet lag, the drive to Stanley, at night in the rain now splattering the window, would take six hours. Doing that would be foolhardy.

Ned was galled at the presence of the nearly half-full bottle of Richard’s Riesling, on the table, abandoned in favour of a bottle of local pinot noir. ‘Light body and fully flavoured,’ De Groote said, gazing into his glass. ‘A floral character of violets. Brilliant. Try some.’

‘No, thanks.’ Pike remembered it fondly. He’s trying to get me back on it. Why? He soberly sipped at a fourth glass of cider. It was time to pounce. ‘You know Jerry forged your signature in Prague to license you with the Government as an enterprise?’ he said.

De Groote stared at him.

Pike laughed. ‘He stupidly told me it’s not forgery if the person whose name you are forging wants you to do it.’ Knowing this, he had the power to report his master, present Richard or Bell with a criminal conviction. But doing that would prevent his coach from going to the republic, or get him jailed, away from the Pike recruits, once he was there.

De Groote finally smiled. ‘That’s our secret,’ he said.

He’s proud of it, the rogue. Pike’s exasperation sharpened. ‘Look, what I’ve flown to Hobart for is to get your firm commitment to keep your promise and go to Prague, Richard. And soon.’

De Groote nodded encouragingly, startling his weary inquisitor. Was it the wine? Pike wondered. Was Richard getting a little smashed?

Here goes. ‘So, when are you going?’ Pike challenged.

De Groote raised his hands, cuff links of gold, palms out. I’m on your side, they said. ‘Very much between us, Jerry is also worried,’ he said quietly. ‘It will be attended to. Promptly.’

Pike grabbed at a headline, a legacy from his years as a newspaper sub-editor. Casino Miracle. Rock Turns to Rubber. ‘Thank you.’ He reached both hands across the table and gripped De Groote’s, suddenly feeling foolish. ‘When?’

‘When Jerry tells me.’ De Groote inspected his manicured nails.

Pike despaired again. ‘Are we talking about next week, or next bloody month?’

‘I don’t know,’ the professor replied quietly. ‘A few months or so, I suppose.’

‘What! Bloody hell, Richard!’ Pike boomed. ‘A few months? Or so?’ An image flashed before him of Pavel and Elishka having to close down their cake shop. ‘I won’t accept that.

‘It’s fraudulent to our Czechs. Alex and I took their money on the promise that you would continue their training. It was you who got us to go there. We saved long and hard for that trip. I’m not going to see it go down the gurgler. What’s your real reason for delaying it? Afraid of the thugs?’

De Groote said nothing.

Pike considered the empty goblet by his right hand. He was pleased the hand was not sore from that airport lavatory chopping. ‘I still insist that you go there damned soon.’

De Groote frowned. ‘I am your upline. You are in no position to insist, Blarney. You won’t be insisting after I reveal our reasons.’ The gleam returned. ‘Have faith. The system never fails. Details later, when you’re rested.

‘But I’ve got plans for a monster meeting in Burnie, a statewide orgy of inspiration. You and Alex on stage, the conquerors from the foreign front line, telling them inspiring tales of victory with the Czechs. We’ll send them away fired up, bursting to show the pitch to more and more prospects. Then big hurrah presentations in Sydney, Melbourne. Brisbane, Adelaide…’ The man’s ebullience flowed compellingly, like a river.

Pike sat, agape.

De Groote said. ‘Give the Prague story a burst at Irishtown. If your Stanley people ask when I’m going to Prague, simply say it’s soon.’

Pike suppressed a grin. ‘Oh, hell! I rang Dick Street in Burnie just before we left Prague. To get him to line up Irishtown. He now knows all about the mess we’ve fled from.’

‘What? The Sussoms killing?’

‘’Fraid so.’

‘You should not have revealed that,’ said De Groote.

‘Christ, Dick’s our sponsor! Our immediate upline.’

‘Did you or Alex tell anyone else?’

‘No. You could ring him now.’ Dick, Blarney knew, would not be easy to muzzle.

De Groote pressed a button on his mobile phone. His fingers drummed on the table cloth. He pressed the Off button and returned the phone to the table. ‘He’s not home. I’ll try again later.’

Pike smelled the malodour of deception. Somehow the casual button pressing did not seem genuine. His leader did not wish to speak to Dick Street in front of him.

‘My lovely networker will be home by now,’ Pike said, uneasy about how he would explain to Alex his gutless surrender. ‘I have to let her know I’ll drive to Stanley in the morning. I don’t like the thought of six hours at the wheel in this rainy dark… That’s an hour longer than my usual time to get there from Hobart. Oh damn, the battery on my mobile is still flat.’

The Argo chief smiled into his phone. ‘Alex, you clever girl. Welcome back! I’m at the casino restaurant with our hero. Yes, he’s fine. You two were awesome in Prague. Jerry Bell’s told me all about it.’

A reassuring wink at Pike. ‘Yes, he’s told me. Yes… Of course it’s worrying.’ He paused, listening. ‘It’s in hand, Alex. We can’t bounce the Czechs, eh?’

His grin dissolved. ‘Ah, sorry. No, their plight is not funny. Alex, it’s vitally important that we keep the troops positive. As your leader, I’m directing you to keep those worries, that awful murder, strictly to yourselves. I’ll be seeing you soon. We’ve got great plans for you guys. Luv ya.

‘Yes, he’s had a tiring day and he’s going to stay tonight at my home. Here he is.’

‘Hi, my love,’ she said.

Pike was thrilled to hear his darling after their whole three hours apart. ‘Yes, I’m okay. A bit of jet lag.’

‘Love, Prague should be okay.’

‘Terrific!’ Alex cried. ‘But his assurances just then were too glib to be true, after what he said to you earlier. When’s he going there?’

‘Yes, love, I’m pissed off, too,’ he responded evasively, glancing defiantly at De Groote. ‘I think it will be okay, though.’

‘So when is he going to Prague?’

‘We’ll review it in a week.’ He nodded, pleased to see De Groote grimace.

‘Damn. He’s broken his promise. The devious rat. Wants us to lie about it, does he? Give him heaps, Blarn.’

Wait until she hears about his razzamatazz of lies planned for Burnie. ‘I’ll be home about midday. We’ve got some things to attend to the moment I’m there.’

‘Sex at the doorstep?’

‘Or at the front gate.’

‘Leave early then. And, honey, drive carefully.’

‘Sure. Will you ring Sean and Mary at Irishtown in the morning? Make sure they’re set for next Friday night?’

‘Ah, I’ve just had a call from Dick Street,’ Alex said. ‘The do at the O’Hallorans will be on Monday. That okay?’

‘Terrific!’ Pike looked at De Groote. Ah, so Dick’s probably at home. ‘Irishtown on this coming Monday evening.’

Strong black coffee revived Pike a little. He was grateful that De Groote did not order his customary cognac.

De Groote reminisced about their success at the Stanley Town Hall. ‘You know, our timing there was quite inspired,’ he declared. ‘Being, of course, only a few months after the battle against Sumato’s grand plans for a casino and golf course on the flat top of Stanley’s amazing big Nut.’

Pike said, ‘Yes, the greedy fools. I’m an environmentalist. A protector of native forests and our wondrous wildlife. Some locals, but especially our politicians and certain public servants, were dazzled by the prospect of Japanese millions. It would have been the windiest course in the world. A decent drive in a good westerly would make the green at the second hole at the Country Club in Auckland.’

De Groote the golfer laughed. ‘I remember your news reports that should have sent a couple of politicians and department heads to jail for bribery and conspiracy over that fiasco. That publicity, and your work as president of the Stanley Progress Association, made you a local hero.’

And it attracted Argo to potential agent Pike. ‘Being the local stringer for newspapers and TV helped.’

Pike recalled his persuasive news story that the Nut was a freak volcanic plug, spewed from the bowels of the earth as magma thirteen million years ago. The hard rock, one hundred and fifty metres high, was the sentinel reminder of the pre-history level of the land. It was not the sort of place to be turned into a theme park. His proof that the Nut was a vital staging point for the rare orange-bellied parrot and housed a rookery of shearwater, better known as mutton birds, had also helped. The Nut had been a magnet for tourists for decades.

Pike confessed to his puppeteer that it was he who had armed the State Opposition with the details of bribery that finally caused Sumato to flee the state and certain Government officers to retire.

‘Sumato and their supporters in the Government didn’t know I founded and quietly called the shots for the Save Our Nut Society,’ Pike beamed. ‘The SONS of Stanley.’

De Groote was surprised. ‘Do many people know that?’

‘Only all of Stanley. And what they don’t know is that Sumato tried to bribe me, make me their spin doctor. My threat to Sumato’s chief there that I would tell Sam Bond, my local policeman mate, about the bribe offer, that I had a tape recording of it, hastened their departure. Actually, there was no such tape.’

The professor’s eyes widened. ‘You’re not a man to cross, Mr Pike.’

‘Correct,’ he said, locking on to his tutor’s eyes.

‘It was classic timing for our business,’ De Groote repeated. ‘At this hour Dick Street’s not likely to be gossiping about Prague. I’ll get him in the morning.’

Pike checked his watch. 8.45. He suspected he knew why his companion did not want to talk with Dick in front of him.

‘I must go to Irishtown some time,’ De Groote said. ‘No doubt you identify well with the Irish?’

Pike remembered Dublin’s pubs, the music and the grime and the green, the pervasive laughter and the ballads of his pilgrimage to Ireland two years ago. ‘They’re magical people in a magical land,’ he said. ‘And there’s a lot of that in Irishtown.’

‘Ireland’s where your magic name comes from, no doubt. You’ve kissed the Blarney Stone?’

‘To be sure, to be sure,’ Pike chuckled, rolling his Rs. ‘If you want to get the blessing up there on the battlements, you’ve got to kiss that big stone hanging high over the edge, leaning over it, upside down. Typical Irish… My father was a romantic.’ Not even De Groote, Blarney was aware, knew his embarrassing second given name.

The Dutchman beamed. ‘Could you ring Sean now? Find out how many are going on Monday?’

‘Bejasus, noo. They’ll be in bed, you see.’ The lilting cadence came easily. ‘And up before dawn, they’ll be. Cows lined up for the milking spree.’ He preferred to contact his farmer friend when he felt fresher.

Pike dropped the brogue. ‘They live in the only Irish village in the world without a pub.’

De Groote smiled magnetically. ‘You could get the whole population. What a tight-knit group that would be for you and Alex.’

‘And for you, mate. Do you know my great, great grandfather, like Irishtown’s founder Sean O’Halloran, came out here in chains?’

‘You told me.’

‘Only a bit of it.’ Pike eyed the wine resentfully. He decided to tell him more. ‘Liam Pike was transported, aged sixteen, for stealing a piglet from his English landlord, who in fact stole their whole family farm. That damned landlord was a former Pommie soldier, who was given the Pike land by Queen Victoria. Liam was a convict, mostly in Stanley, for seven years before he got his ticket of leave.

‘I’m descended, too, from Liam’s Aboriginal girlfriend, Ninginny, who was a sort of slave servant for Stanley’s VDL Company. It seems they never married. Liam died, grieving, a week after Ninginny, aged eighty.’

De Groote looked startled. ‘You’re part Aboriginal?’

‘And proud of it.’ Pike doubted that Richard De Groote would flaunt Pike’s Aboriginality, or the convict bit, to the masses. Or reveal that his protégé in Stanley was a descendant of a true bastard.

Pike excused himself to go to the toilet. He felt like a wimp and wanted to splash cold water on his face.

As soon as he was alone, De Groote phoned Jerry Bell. He reported with quiet pride that Pike had backed off. ‘But I could not get him to drink grog,’ he said.

Bell instructed him to drive his protégé harder, to ensure that the stories of corruption in Argo were killed.

Once Pike was seated, looking fresher, De Groote adopted a more serious demeanor. ‘I shall have a lengthy counselling session with you and Alex soon. I’ll conduct a SWOT analysis of your entire business. Blarney, it lacks discipline.’

Pike had heard enough. He nodded, repressing an urge to say so. SWOT: strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, threats. No bloody way. ‘Is the Czech Republic to be included in that?’ he taunted.

De Groote’s phone rang. After a pause he said gravely, ‘Oh dear, Alex! That’s appalling. Damned amazing. What a violation! I’ll put him on.’ He pressed the loudspeaker button.