That’s when he came up with the idea of hidin it behind the walls. It’s amazing what a sheet of plasterboard can hide. You know what else plasterboard is good for? Patchin up fuckin holes.
Sapphire stopped reading. She lowered the page and stared at nothing for a moment.
“So it was money in the walls at the eastern outstation,” she said.
Everyone froze.
“They hid Bob’s laundered cash behind the plasterboard.” She shifted in her seat and her gaze landed square on me. “You knew it was money, didn’t you?”
I held her stare.
Across the table, Cassidy’s fork went still. Declan found something fascinating in the timber grain.
I clenched my jaw so hard it was a wonder I didn’t crack a tooth. “Yes, but I?—”
“You stood in that cottage with me today and told me you had no idea what had been in those walls.”
“Yes.”
“And in the chopper. When I asked you again.” She glared at me. “You looked me straight in the eye and lied to my face.”
“Yeah, I did, and I’m not proud of that.”
She huffed. “I know you’re holding back on me.” Her gaze swept around to everyone. “You all are. But I’ll figure this out. I promise you that.” She picked up the page again.
I glared at Mitch. He shook his head.
I knew that look. Don’t say anything. A part of me still wanted to agree with him. But I’d looked Sapphire in the eye and lied to her twice today, and it had carved something out of me both times.
I wouldn’t lie to her again.
Next time she asked me, and I know she would, I was not holding back.
* * *
Sapphire continued reading aloud.
So, when Bazza Crawford demanded I pay him out, that’s exactly what I did. Gave him 500K. Cold. Hard. Cash. Told him he didn’t wanna know where it came from. And if he told anyone, he’d lose more than his fuckin leg.
Bazza took the money and got the hell outta town. Never saw him again. No investigation into how he lost his leg. No questions. No consequences. Just a bloke with one leg and a fat bank account, and me still runnin Koolaroo like nothin happened.
Turns out when you got a wall full of cash and nobody keepin track, it’s pretty easy to help yourself.
That damn fool politician who wanted to put a runway on our land? Cash.
The tax auditor who came knockin? Cash.
The asshole who didn’t wanna renew my driver’s license ‘cause of my eyesight? Cash.
Bob’s money made issues disappear. And he never knew a fuckin thing. It was a double-edged blade, though. All that cash, and I couldn’t put it into Koolaroo. Not with Declan running the accounts. That dipshit wants everythin by the book.
How fuckin ironic, that Koolaroo is richer than it’s ever been, yet we can’t spend a cent of it.
Just like the mountain of cash I nicked before I took off. Can’t spend it. Don’t know what I’ll do with it. But when I figure that out, the whole world’s gonna know who Bob Ackerman is.
Wish I was gonna be there to see that.
So, here’s my lesson for you boys.
