Make Me Rich by Peter Corris

Author:Peter Corris
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781743437933
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2014-01-11T16:00:00+00:00

11

At the airport I put through a call to Paul Guthrie. I located him at his city office.

“Have you seen Chris?”

“I’ve seen both of them. Don’t be alarmed, but Chris is in the hospital. He’s okay.” That was stretching it a bit, but a long distance phone call is no way to handle the subtleties. I gave him the details of the hospital and the ward and the businessman in him let me finish. “His mother should come up here, perhaps,” I said. “I’ll give you the details when I get back to Sydney.”

“Who hurt him? How did he get in hospital?”

“He hurt himself, Mr Guthrie. But he had some help. Ray’s in worse shape in some ways. I can’t explain now, but he may think his brother’s dead. He thinks I’m an enemy and he knows you hired me.”

“But Ray’s not hurt? Or sick?”

“No, but he’s sort of out of control. You’d better take some precautions.”

“Ray wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Maybe not, it’s hard to say. If he arrives, just try to keep him calm, and stay calm yourself.”

“Do you know what the hell this is all about, Hardy?”

“Not yet. I’ve got some ideas but not enough information.” That was true; it was also true that I was trying to safeguard Pat Guthrie’s interests while working for her husband. Tricky.

They were calling my plane and I rang off, still trying to reassure my client. No scanner again. I sat, tightly wedged between a fat man with body odour and a woman who knitted the whole way. I couldn’t concentrate on the Hughes book and the clicking of the needles and occasional elbow dig kept me from sleeping.

I thought about the information I had: both brothers had been jerked violently out of their routines and normal habits, and the man I still thought of as “the cop” was involved in the jerking. Ray was stirred up about his real father, but the connection between that and his present wild behaviour was a mystery.

It was a strange case; I’d seen the subject of my enquiries twice but hadn't made any meaningful contact. I had divided my loyalties between my client and his wife. I supposed I’d done some good by getting Chris to the hospital earlier than he would otherwise have made it. It didn’t seem like much of an achievement to report to Grandma. Especially with Ray Guthrie thinking of me as an adversary.

The turbulence started about half an hour out of Sydney and intensified as we got closer. The pilot announced that Sydney was being swept by a storm and that we could expect some delays and confusion. I fancied that the body odour got a little worse, but the needles never missed a click.

A summer storm had hit; the gutters and the people had all been caught in light clothes without coats or umbrellas. Those who’d made dashes from the car park or taxis to the terminal looked as if they’d waded there neck-deep. Strangely, everyone seemed to be good

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