The Easy Sin. Jon Cleary
night?’
Magee felt even sicker, with embarrassment. ‘No. No, of course not! It was – it was a joke, I was fooling around … What’s going on, for God’s sake?’
‘We’ve kidnapped you,’ said Shirlee. ‘For money. Five million dollars.’
‘American,’ said Darlene, who knew the exchange rate. ‘Not Australian.’
Magee looked at them; but the hoods were blank. ‘You’ve gotta be kidding! I’m broke – skint –’
He was still sick with fear; but he was a good actor. He wouldn’t tell them about the money hidden away overseas, not till they held a gun at his head and threatened to kill him. At the moment they were just talking a deal.
‘Mr Magee,’ said Shirlee patiently, ‘you are worth seventy million dollars –’
‘On paper,’ said Darlene. ‘Australian.’
‘Christ, that was twelve months ago! Don’t you read the papers?’ But he had forgotten. There had been only rumours, buried away in financial columns, nothing in the headlines. He began to regret his closed mouth. ‘My company is going into receivership –’
The two hoods turned towards each other. Then Darlene looked back at him. ‘We’re not financial wizards, Mr Magee, but do you expect us to believe you could lose that much money in twelve months?’
He was dealing with financial idiots; or anyway, infants. He could feel his fear subsiding; a little expertise can stiffen a spine. ‘Ladies –’
‘Cut out the bullshit,’ said Darlene.
Her mother’s hood looked at her, but said nothing.
‘Ladies, in IT –’
‘What’s that?’ said Shirlee.
‘Information Technology.’ They were idiots, no doubt about it. ‘In IT fortunes were made overnight. On paper, that is. And the millionaires went broke overnight. Throats are cut every day of the week. They started cutting my throat three months ago.’
‘Who’s they?’ asked Shirlee.
‘I’d rather not say –’
‘Mr Magee,’ said Darlene, I know what you say is true, about all those paper millionaires. But I don’t think you are one of them. But for the record, who’s been trying to cut your throat?’
‘Are you in the game? IT?’
‘No. But I’m not dumb, Mr Magee.’
He hesitated. It had disconcerted him to have these two women apparently running this kidnapping. He had felt threatened by the two silent men, but these two women, especially the older one, if she was the older one, had their own menace. He had never felt really safe with women, not with Caroline and the women between her and Kylie, but he had never felt threatened by them.
‘The people who put up the venture capital. The Kunishima Bank, they’re Japanese.’
‘A bank is cutting your throat?’ said Shirlee.
‘Banks are expert at it,’ said Darlene. ‘You mean, Mr Magee, you’ve been playing funny buggers and the bank is foreclosing?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Not good enough,’ said Shirlee and even beneath the hood one could see the jaw setting. ‘Someone’s gunna pay for you,
Mr Magee. All the money you’ve been worth don’t just disappear into thin air.’
‘Mum, let me handle this –’
Mum? He’d been kidnapped by a gang run by Mum? If he got out of this alive, nobody would believe him; or they would laugh him out of town. He had lunched with Bill Gates, had sat with leading lawyers in London, Paris, New York; the PM here in Australia had once called him Errol, like an old mate. And now Mum and daughter (he wondered what her name might be) were holding him to ransom. He was a snob, but that had been his mother’s fault. She had never let him call her Mum.
‘Errol,’ said Darlene, like an old mate, ‘someone is going to pay for you, so let’s cut out the bullshit –’
‘Wash your mouth out,’ said the other blue hood.
‘- and give us a name. What about your girlfriend Kylie?’
Somehow he managed a laugh. ‘She’d put me on her credit card – that’s all she ever uses. I told you, I’m broke –’
‘All right, you told us that.’ Shirlee was losing patience. She had neatly planned everything, like a Christmas package, and now all the string was coming undone. ‘But it don’t matter. You’ve got contacts, they’ve got money … I been reading about it, Big Business sticks together, it don’t matter about the battlers –’
‘You’re battlers?’
‘We won’t be when we get the money for you,’ said Darlene.
‘Look, Big Business, as you call it, doesn’t run a fund for kidnapped businessmen –’ Then he shook his head, as if he had only just understood what he had said. ‘Call my office, see what they can do.’
‘We 11 do that,’ said Darlene and she and her mother stood up. ‘You want some breakfast? Mum does nice sausages and bacon.’
His stomach heaved at the thought. ‘No, thanks. Just some yoghurt and coffee.’
‘Where does he think he is?’ snapped Shirlee and whirled out of the room.
Darlene checked the straps that bound him, then fingered his dress and jacket. ‘Versace?’
‘Yeah. How’d you know?’
‘I’ve been adding up what I’m gunna buy when we get the money for you. Try and get some sleep after breakfast.’
‘Sitting up?’
‘Imagine you’re in economy class.’ Behind the hood one could almost see the smile. ‘You’ll be back in first class, Errol, soon’s we get the money.’
2
‘What do you know about a software firm, I-Saw?’ said Malone at breakfast.
Tom paused as he was about to bite into his second piece of toast and home-made marmalade. He was a big young man, bigger than his father, with a good blend of his father’s and his mother’s looks. He had recently graduated with an Honours degree in Economics and a month ago had started with an investment bank at 35,000 dollars a year, almost half of what his father was earning after twenty-seven years service in the police. He was already an expert on world economics, on how to run the country and an authority on other experts. He was still young, God bless him.
‘Are we talking about last night’s murder?’ said Lisa. ‘There is a golden rule in this house, in case you’ve forgotten. We don’t talk shop at breakfast.’
Malone gave his wife what he thought of as his loving look. She was still beautiful, at least in his eyes, and had that calm command that was like oil on the family’s occasional troubled waters. She wore no make-up at breakfast, was in shirt and slacks, always gave the appearance of being ready for the day.
I am just trying to get some payback for all the years we’ve supported him –’ He looked again at his son. ‘What do you know about I-Saw?’
‘I wouldn’t put money into it,’ said Tom. ‘In fact, people are taking money out of it, if they can find suckers to buy their shares. Have been for some time. It’s dead.’
‘What killed it?’
‘Hard to pin down. Too much ambition, not enough capital – it could be a dozen reasons.