Whelan 06 Sucked In by Shane Maloney

Author:Shane Maloney
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Senator Barry Quinlan was advancing to greet me even as the polished glass security door into his reception area was clicking locked behind me.

With a state-wide electorate and therefore no particular constituency to pander to, senators pleased themselves as to where they located their offices. For the Nationals, it was always somewhere in the boonies, where they’d be visible to the cud-chewers. Those from the other two parties hung out their shingles wherever it suited them. Some liked the leafy ‘burbs. Others bunged on the common touch, setting up shop at street level and opening their doors to all comers. Some found a comfortable pied-a-terre in the Commonwealth offices in Treasury Place with its ankle-deep carpet and uniformed doorman. In Barry’s case, it was a corner suite in a mid-rise office building at the legal and banking end of Bourke Street, a short stroll from nowhere in particular.

He extended his hand, not for me to shake, but to shepherd me through to his office. As well as the woman at the computer behind the reception desk, I counted four other staffers in small, glass-panelled side offices as we made our way towards the bridge of HMAS Quinlan. They looked up as we passed. One of them was Phil Sebastian. He was on the phone and signalled that he’d join us as soon as he finished the call.

Quinlan was well turned out, as usual, minus a jacket. Crisp and businesslike, but cordial. A man who’d spent a long time at the top of his profession. Warm, but not toasty.

‘Thanks for coming, Murray,’ he said, directing me to one of the comfortable chairs at the small conference table that shared the space with a file-stacked desk.

There was a fairly good painting of a racehorse on one wall, gilt-famed. A whiteboard on the other, erased but bearing evidence of much use. We could have been in a well-heeled bookie’s office on settling-up day.

‘I appreciate it,’ he said. ‘I really do. And so does Phil. I was probably a bit out of line the other day at the cemetery. Insensitive, bringing up this preselection business in a situation like that, you and Charlie being close and all.’

‘That’s all right, Barry,’ I said. ‘No offence taken.’

‘Good,’ he said, sitting down across the table, pinching up his trouser leg at the knee so as not to ruin the crease as he crossed one leg over the other. ‘I felt sure you’d appreciate the need for a smooth transition. We’ve got a load on our plates right now, dealing with this Telecom privatisation push, pressing our advantage on the travel rorts scandal and so forth.’ His hand swept the air expansively.

I gave an understanding nod. Many are the toils of those who would clean the Augean stables.

‘This fast-track decision-making is not ideal I know,’ he said, forestalling any qualms I might have been poised to express. ‘Under normal circumstances, we’d’ve been content for things to take their natural course. But a mid-term preselection tussle, if it gets out of hand, it costs us points at the by-election.

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