Читать книгу Cut to the Chase - Ray CW Scott - Страница 7

Robert Bramble leaned back in his chair and placed the tips of his fingers together.

‘So there it is, Harry,’ he said, ‘Easy isn’t it? You can stop off at Jakarta; all expenses paid, and have a short holiday there. All you have to do is collect a small package and deliver it to our embassy. You don’t even have to bring it back here. On top of that you will receive a fee from us of $3,000 for services rendered – how does that sound?’

On the face of it, Harry Wallace had to admit that it did sound attractive. He needed an extra $3,000 as much as the next man. It sounded almost too easy, yet what could possibly go wrong?

‘Well,’ he began slowly and Bramble nodded.

‘Good man,’ he said enthusiastically, using what the salesman would term “the assumed close”. ‘I knew you’d help us. Once a government servant, always a government servant…eh?’ Bramble deliberately avoided the use of the name of the Australian intelligence organisation; maybe he thought it may have raised doubts in Wallace’s mind. He would probably have been right.

‘All right!’ Wallace said grudgingly. ‘I could do with a sight of Jakarta, maybe there’s a chance of some business there one day.’

The interview was over and Bramble escorted Wallace to the door, shaking his hand warmly all the way.

‘We’ll be in touch, just a case of finalising a few details. Now when are you off to Singapore? Let me see…25th is it?’

‘24th,’ Wallace answered shortly, Bramble breathed an ‘Of course’ under his breath and then Wallace found himself in the corridor outside Bramble’s office.

‘You know where the lift shaft is, don’t you old chap?’ Bramble said as he disappeared back into his office and closed the door behind him.

Wallace exited the building and stood outside it. He looked up at the windows. Somewhere in there Bramble was no doubt congratulating himself on having solved a problem; though it was possible he may have created one for someone else. Nevertheless, if it paid $3,000 it would resolve one of Harry Wallace’s.

Harry Wallace was not his actual name, he had been christened Josiah Harrison Wallace, the first name was bestowed by his mother, a strong willed woman who read the Bible daily and thought it appropriate to select a name that occurred within it. Wallace’s mother had earmarked Abraham as a second name but thankfully Wallace’s father had no such inhibitions. He had decided on a family name for the second one when he registered the birth whilst his wife was still incarcerated in the maternity hospital. However, he wasn’t game enough to challenge the formidable Mrs Wallace and make Harrison the first name. At school the young Josiah was unmercifully ragged about his first name so he dropped it when he reached secondary school and introduced himself to his new school mates as “Harry” a decision he had never regretted. His mother still insisted on using the first one.

When Wallace left school he had various jobs and then applied for a government job that was advertised in “The Australian” newspaper for a clerical post in ASIO. He was appointed; working for the intelligence agency initially had its essence of glamour about it, though it wasn’t exactly James Bond type employment. The Australian Security Intelligence Organisation had areas where phones had to be answered, intelligence was garnered and various people had to process it and then file it or enter it onto the data base.

The main difference with this employer from most others in the Australian scene was that employees were never to divulge to anyone for whom they worked; however modest one’s duties everyone was subject to the Official Secrets Act. This suited Wallace because there were so many people who had some form of paranoia about ASIO and its sister organisation ASIS. Consequently it was best kept under wraps to avoid being sucked into arguments at parties or barbecues, especially during election periods or strikes.

He could remember being told of incidents where nails and broken glass were scattered around the ASIO car parks when they were resident in St Kilda Road in Melbourne, which brought about an epidemic of punctures. The same problems occurred when they moved offices to Canberra but when working there Wallace lived near enough to either walk or catch a bus. This summed up some people’s views on security organisations, people who gave no thought as to what could happen if they didn’t exist.

Eventually the job began to pall, many of the people with whom he mixed exhibited similar characteristics to public servants everywhere else, whose main interests were checking the promotions lists, issuing paper clips, checking who was on time and who wasn’t, or issuing reprimands, so eventually Wallace handed in his resignation and tried his hand in the insurance market. He took examinations and began selling with some success and was so successful that in time he was called upon to give presentations to other salesmen and women as to sales methods. In time this evolved into presentations of motivational business presentations and management techniques.

In time his presentations skills became such that he left insurance to organise and run speaking and management courses full time for those who had to deliver speaking engagements on behalf of their companies. Wallace had joined Toastmasters International; a public speaking organisation based in America, and made a few trips to the USA under its umbrella while standing for various positions within it. While in the States he met many who earned a living on the speaking circuit and made many contacts. He also joined Rostrum, a similar organisation to Toastmasters which had a more Australian slant.

After gaining considerable expertise, he enlisted with an agency that arranged inspirational and motivational projects and seminars for speakers from abroad in addition to finding actors for parts in ABC and commercial television productions. There were not too many others in Wallace’s particular field in Australia, but he found the work began to accumulate. It was a hard road initially, necessitating part-time jobs along the way to keep the wolf from the door, but eventually Wallace broke through into the bigger time.

At the ripe old age of 32 he found himself a recognised member of the speaking circuit. He made some trips to the USA to gain experience and had one or two assignments there which also gained him more useful contacts. This brought him more attention in the Australian market and also Britain, and engagements began to come his way.

That was where Robert Bramble came in. Their first acquaintance had been at secondary school where Bramble was a few years older than Wallace and as a senior boy had often asserted his right to twist the arm of any more junior boys in the playground who were unlucky enough to stray within reach, including that of Wallace!

Their next meeting came about at the time Bramble was a junior executive in ASIO. Wallace had recognised him at once when he also joined the organisation; Bramble had not changed much since his arm twisting days and, having some semblance of seniority, tended to boss people around, including Wallace. He was dark haired, with a few flecks of grey, which was nothing to do with worrying or his life style, Bramble’s father had been grey haired when still a fairly young man though Bramble appeared to have avoided that fate. Bramble also had a hooked nose that was quite distinctive and a self important look. He adopted ASIO as a career where Wallace did not.

Their next crossing of paths came one cold June night when Wallace gave a motivational speech as a guest speaker at a Rotary Convention and Bramble, now a senior ASIO operative, was in the audience. After the Rotary meeting ended, he approached Wallace and re-introduced himself, there was a brief chat, during which Wallace pointedly asked him to stop calling him Josiah, and then they both parted. Wallace was never quite sure why Bramble was in Rotary; he wondered whether he used it for recruiting other mugs like him, unless Bramble suspected the organisation of engaging in nefarious activities. Two months later he approached Wallace out of the blue and asked him to do a small job for him, involving delivery of a package, when Wallace next went to the USA. Wallace refused.

He came round to see Wallace again two days later and insisted, promising him a small fee, and the chance of more work. To show his good faith, he landed Wallace an assignment at the annual general meeting of a large and well known Australian company. They wanted a light hearted speech delivered at their annual convention, based on their own industry, to break up an otherwise dreary sequence of serious business presentations. Apparently they supplied electronic equipment to ASIO so there was some connection there.

His ability to assist with procuring business persuaded Wallace to agree to help Bramble, and thereafter it became an irregular thing. Wallace would keep him posted as to his itinerary and Bramble would find small deliveries or collections for him to undertake.

‘Why don’t you use your own people,’ Wallace had once asked him when they were having a coffee in the open air section of a Canberra coffee house.

‘What own people?’ Bramble had answered sardonically.

‘What sodding government, especially those oriented to the Left, will allocate sufficient funds to its intelligence organisation?’

‘Surely our government does,’ Wallace had retorted. ‘You must have unlimited access to funds.’

‘Don’t talk bloody crap!’ Bramble had snorted bitterly. ‘Bloody Labor Governments think we are secret police oppressing the workers and spying on the unions, while Liberal Governments look nervously over their shoulders while they give us inadequate hand outs from Consolidated Revenue which is ostensibly for something else when they think Labor aren’t looking.’

He paused for breath in the middle of his tirade to sample his coffee.

‘All we’re good for is to be whipping boys whenever the CIA foul something up, there’s a Russian spy scandal or we invade somebody’s home looking for bomb making materials. When we had that bloody balls up at the Sheraton all those years ago we actually had the Victorian Labor government trying to have the names of our people publicised which would have blown their cover forever and wasted millions of dollars expended on their training! Don’t talk to me about fucking governments!’

Such had been the bitterness of his response that Wallace had let the matter ride, frankly he had some sympathy with much of what Bramble said.

Wallace had been asked to deliver a motivational speech to a convention that was being organised by the insurance industry and was being held in Singapore, and with the situation of the insurance industry as it was at that time they probably needed motivation. The industry was jittery and tending to tip large numbers of their workforces into the street clutching retrenchment cheques immediately after, or probably just before, the release of their annual statements.

Why the insurance industry selected Singapore for an industry conference was puzzling, unless they were hoping to stimulate re-insurance business from that sector, or maybe the strip clubs were more discreet.

The preparation for Wallace’s presentation was going well, he was arranging for some visual aids encompassing cartoons and drawings that should go down well. He called upon Laurie Frazer, an old friend and former work colleague who was the Assistant Manager at the Saturn Insurance, to check with him to see if he thought they were all right.

‘I can’t see much wrong with those,’ Frazer said as he riffled through them. ‘But you should make some adjustments to the features of the face of the character in this cartoon. It bears a strong resemblance to last year’s Insurance Institute President. It could be misconstrued.’

They went to lunch, and Frazer paid.

‘How is life at home?’ Frazer asked Wallace.

‘Non-existent,’ was Wallace’s bitter reply. ‘She’s gone, or more correctly, I’ve gone! It just became impossible; you know her and what she’s like. She is still living in our flat in St Kilda. This was about a year ago, it was inevitable’.

Laurie said nothing, he merely grunted and nodded. He knew Elsie Wallace formerly Elsie Palmer, he had never liked her and he clearly thought his friend was better off without her.

Wallace had been married for about four years; somehow he fell into it perhaps dazzled by her good looks and a perfect figure. But Elsie had one defect, she had much conversation and it was mainly limited to pedantic statements and a total inability to admit that she was wrong about anything, plus a penchant to be rude to people. He had believed that after a few years he may have been able to soften her aggressive attitude a little but had regretfully to admit failure.

She also had the feminist outlook. Wallace didn’t disagree with many feminist aims but he objected when it reached the stage where anything he said was carefully analysed and dissected to try and isolate some imagined chauvinism.

There were several bust ups resulting in short separations, Wallace’s work in latter days on the speaking circuits had made that inevitable, often he was away for weeks at a time. The final break had come when one of their neighbours, a lady of like ilk, had reported to Elsie that she had seen Wallace in a city restaurant with an attractive brunette.

Ironically it had been true, but it was a business lunch with a business contact, his agent, Christine Norton, who had been instrumental in arranging many presentations for him, the lunch had taken place while they had been discussing a prospective presentation to a company seminar in Perth, Western Australia. It was even more ironic that her sexual preferences were rumoured to be on the eccentric side, which made the accusation of having an assignation even more ridiculous.

Despite these obvious disqualifications for an affair being in progress, Elsie refused to amend her initial reaction, and had flounced out in high dudgeon, no doubt expecting Wallace to crawl back uttering abject apologies and bearing gifts. But by then he had had enough of the incessant arguments and accusations of chauvinism, so they separated officially and Wallace moved into a bachelor flat in South Yarra.

The aforesaid Perth assignment had come up, while there he had picked up one or two more speaking engagements, plus some temporary work with an insurance company claims department brought about by a plethora of claims caused by a torrential rainstorm that flooded several suburbs. Consequently Wallace had not returned to Melbourne for about six weeks.

‘The divorce came through recently,’ Wallace added. ‘I haven’t seen her since then.’

‘Sorry Harry,’ Laurie shook his head, ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’

‘Don’t be,’ Wallace replied. ‘Best thing that could have happened, for both of us.’