The Undertow (22 page)

‘He was humiliated by being taken in by Sawtell,' Frank said. ‘Thought he was smarter than that.'

‘He should be grateful to you for saving his life.'

‘He doesn't think of it like that. I don't know how he thinks. Then there's all this stuff about Heysen and his mother and Sawtell and me and others. He's carrying a lot of baggage. He's hard to reach.'

‘He might improve.'

‘He might get worse. Would you believe? He knows all about this DNA testing. He says it can only prove that a man can't be the father of a particular person, not that someone else definitely is. There's only a ninety-five point five per cent likelihood. He reckons he'll go with the four point five per cent.'

I could tell that this hurt him deeply but on balance I thought he'd be better off with things arranged that way.

‘Forget him,' I said. ‘You've got Peter.'

Peter Parker and Ramona had two healthy daughters and took off for Africa with them when the children were six weeks old. Frank and Hilde made plans to visit them. Frank was out of the undertow.

An earthquake hit Indonesia and created havoc where the tsunami had already killed hundreds of people and flattened everything in sight. An Australian relief helicopter crashed and nine service people were killed. It was a boom time for tabloid newspapers and television. The pope died and Charles and Camilla got married, two events I tried to ignore.

Lily and I went on as before, coming and going. We took Ruby Gentle for dinner at the Bourbon and Beefsteak and she demolished her two-person chateaubriand with ease. We had a great night, but Lily passed on the biography.

The appeal mounted by Viv Garner and supported by Frank Parker and others' testimonials to my sterling character failed. As Detective Sergeant Carr had said, I was carrying too much maverick baggage and the licensing board was happy to make an example of me. The profession in future was to be conducted differently.

I couldn't work and the bills kept coming. I ran short of money and made an unannounced visit to Catherine Heysen, who had set the whole thing in motion, to present my unpaid account. She was living in a luxury unit in Potts Point, the Earlwood house having sold for a bundle.

When I identified myself I could hear hesitation before she admitted me. She'd completely recovered from her injury and was her old, cold, composed, regal self in a blue dress, perfect makeup and surroundings to match.

‘I'm sorry, Mr Hardy,' she said after I'd given her the itemised account, ‘I've neglected you.'

‘A cheque will repair my damaged feelings.'

‘You don't like me.'

‘I never did. It doesn't matter.'

She chewed that over, decided not to work against it, and wrote me a cheque for the amount outstanding.

‘William and I are reconciled,' she said.

‘That's nice. Pity he didn't thank Frank for saving his life.'

‘He says it was a slight wound, scarcely worse than mine.'

I laughed. I could imagine William saying just that.

He'd tell her whatever he thought she'd want to hear for just as long as it suited him. And no longer.

‘You don't like him either.'

‘Neither does his probable father.'

‘That's a pity. As I say, we're close again. William didn't commit any crimes in his association with Matthew Sawtell.'

‘Not that anyone could prove. He came close, probably did.'

‘He lost money, of course, but I have plenty as you can see.' She waved her hand at the furniture and fittings. ‘We're going into the fashion business together. With my contacts and William's charm and language skills, I'm sure we will be successful.'

‘Good luck,' I said, but I didn't mean it, though it would be interesting to see which one of them came out on top.