Beware of the Dog by Peter Corris Read Free Book Online Page A

cases at the same time. It’s not usually a sensible thing for a one-man show to do, but this was different. I was going to be looking for Paula Wilberforce anyway, and she’d already cost me money. Besides, I was coming to like Sir Phil. There was something about his don’t-give-a-damn attitude that appealed to me, especially when it was combined with some genuine concern. That was showing now.
    â€˜Poor little Paula. I don’t pretend to have been a good father, Mr Hardy. Do you have children yourself?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜You need a lot of luck to bring it off. I had the devil’s own luck in business but none at all in my personal life.’
    I sat down again. It was still hot in the solarium. Sweat was rolling off me. A little had collected in the thin folds of fat around the old man’s waist, otherwise he was bone dry.
    â€˜You might say I worked harder at the one than the other and that might be true. Who knows? Whenthe pulse of life is throbbing you don’t step back to consider such things.’
    â€˜I suppose not. Tell me, has she ever been suicidal?’
    â€˜Not to my knowledge. Why?’
    I considered telling him then what his daughter had of mine. I rejected the idea. Why worry him further? I covered up by saying that it was impossible to stop a genuine suicide and quoting the statistic on the estimated number of missing people who had killed themselves. They’re the ones who do it for themselves, not to make a show, and they don’t care if their bodies are never found.
    He listened, then shook his head. ‘Destructive, yes, but not self-destructive. She has an enormous ego. When she was young it sometimes seemed as if there weren’t enough books for her to read, words to learn, places to go.’
    â€˜Maybe you should take your own advice. Just leave her alone.’
    â€˜No. I can’t do that. You seem a capable sort of fellow. Perhaps you could talk some sense into her. Paula never believed that I cared for her. Giving her things obviously didn’t change her opinion. Perhaps hiring your services might.’
    Tricky country, that. But I could use the fee and I
needed
to find her quickly. To have her father’s help and authority was a luxury. I said I’d accept his offer.
    â€˜Good. In the study desk you’ll find a cheque book. Bring it out here please, and we’ll get things on a business footing.’
    I got the cheque book. The stubs suggested that the account was in the black to the tune of ten grand. He lowered it by one. He was showing signs of fatiguebut he gave me a quick run-down on Paula which didn’t add much to what I already knew. She wasn’t close to any of her half or step siblings. She had had a succession of boyfriends when she was younger but no one important in recent times.
    â€˜Would she have many possessions—books, furniture, clothes?’
    â€˜Heaps, in each category.’
    â€˜Too much to carry around if she’s staying with friends or living in motels?’ 
    â€˜Absolutely.’ 
    â€˜Where would it all be?’
    â€˜In the Lindfield house, I imagine. To answer your earlier question, Paula has no right to sell it, but I suppose I would agree if it came to the point. I have a set of keys.’
    The keys were in the same desk drawer. Very orderly man, Sir Phil. I got his phone number, promised to stay in touch and we shook hands. His dry hand was almost cold in my hot moist one. I wondered what that meant.
    Crisscrossing Sydney again by car. Not my favourite occupation but it comes with the job. There was a long delay on the bridge approach due to roadworks and the traffic remained slow and sticky for most of the way through Willoughby. At least I had a client to charge the petrol to. Lindfield looked as self-assured and well paid-up as ever. I parked directly outside the house and marched straight up the path to the front door, jiggling the keys in my hand.