Life is full of surprises and I got one the next morning in the form of a phone call from Felicity Standish.
'Mr Hardy,' she said, 'I think we have unfinished business.'
I'd heard that before-mostly from people who wanted to do me harm. Did Felicity want to do me harm? I was dealing with a mouthful of water trying to wash down one of my pills stuck in my throat and wasn't my most gracious.
'How's that?' I grunted.
'Well, Miles has been in touch. In fact he's been rather nice to me and the children. I'm wondering whether dealing with you has had a good effect on him.'
My throat wouldn't clear and I barked something, away from the phone.
'What was that?' she said, alarmed.
'It's all right, Mrs Standish, I…'
'I use my maiden name, Pargetter, now.'
'Ms Pargetter, I've been in touch with your husband. But thank you for the information. Is there anything else?'
'Yes. I think you're right about Richard Malouf and I believe I can help you find him.'
That was a lot to accept in one bite and my response must have sounded sceptical.
'You don't believe me,' she said.
'I want to, but a lot's happened since we last spoke.'
'I should hope so. You were at square one back then.'
'Can you give me some idea…'
'No. I want to meet with you and lay down some ground rules. I've arranged for the children to be collected by Miles's mother. I've got a free day. Will I come to you or do you want to come here?'
She was holding the cards but I didn't want to let her run the whole game. I told her that I'd prefer her to come to me and she agreed. I gave her the address.
'Good old Glebe,' she said. 'I had some good times there in my uni days. I'll be an hour or a bit less.'
It took her forty minutes. She bustled in, all designer jeans, high-heeled boots, red shirt and bomber jacket.
'This is amazing,' she said.
'What is?'
'We used to rent a house in this street when we were students. A bit further down, towards the water. I didn't know we had a famous private detective for a neighbour.'
'I keep a low profile, Mrs… Ms Pargetter. Coffee?'
'Felicity, and yes, please.'
'It won't be up to your standard.'
'I don't care about standards, not anymore.'
I pondered that as I made the coffee. There was something almost hectic about her, as if she was racing ahead and trying to catch up with herself. I brought the coffee into the sitting room, cleared the usual mess of papers and books and we sat opposite each other. She added milk to her coffee, sipped and didn't make a face. Control. I make bitter coffee, can't help it.
'I no longer think Miles killed Richard Malouf,' she said.
'Why not?'
'I've talked to him. He's told me something of what you've been doing on his behalf and… other things. I'm convinced. I was jealous and irrational when I said that.'
'And you're not jealous now?'
She smiled. 'That's a sly question. Oh, it's warm in here.'
The room warms up, even in winter, when the sun shines in through two corner windows. She slipped out of her silk-lined jacket. The action, lifting her breasts and opening her shirt, was unconscious or provocative-hard to tell.
'You mean May Ling,' she said. 'Who can blame him? She's very attractive and I was a bitch. I can see that now. It won't last.'
'You think you'll get him back?'
'Who knows?' She sipped again. 'This coffee's bitter.'
I grinned. 'Okay, I believe you're not jealous and now I know you're rational. I make lousy coffee. That's enough fencing-how do I find Malouf?'
'We.'
'You'd better explain.'
She pushed the coffee cup aside and drew in a breath. As at our first meeting, her hair was perfectly groomed and her makeup was expert. Her features in repose were unremarkable, but when she smiled or spoke the movement animated them and made her interesting to look at. Standish wouldn't have objected to her money, but it was easy to see why he would have been attracted to her even without it.
Her voice had a hard, determined edge. 'I'm not jealous about Miles anymore as I said, and it's not exactly jealousy I feel about Richard. I knew about the wife, of course, and I imagined there were other women, but May Ling's sister? Something sticks in my gullet about that-the way he used people.'
She waved her hand at the bookshelves. 'You read about people like that, but you don't expect to actually meet them. You don't expect to be one of the people who get used.'
'I'm not sure about that,' I said. 'You're from a privileged background, Felicity. I think you'll find that people from more ordinary circumstances get used all the time.'
She shook her head emphatically. 'No, they get exploited, sure. They're ill-treated, overlooked and ignored. But not used in the way Richard Malouf used me.'
She went on to tell me that in the full throes of her love affair with Malouf he'd asked her for a favour. He'd said he was negotiating an important business deal that involved convincing an investor that he knew about and understood the needs of children.
'It was something to do with persuading someone to sell a property for development on the understanding that there was to be recreation space for children. Richard told this man that he had two children, a boy and a girl. You can guess the rest.'
I said, 'I've been told about his charm, but…'
'Charm doesn't come anywhere near it. I allowed him to have a photograph taken of himself with my two. At that point I'd have done just about anything for him, short of harming the children, of course.'
I nodded.
'But I feel now as if I did harm them. I lied to them about who "that man" was and I came so close to saying "don't tell Daddy" it wasn't funny. Can you understand?'
'The level of deception? I think so. I've been told that Malouf may not even be his real name.'
She shrugged. 'Nothing'd surprise me. Well, when I was told that he'd died I sort of saw it as just part of a tragic love affair. Dramatised it for myself, I suppose.'
'But now?'
She laughed. 'The other day I walked past the development and guess what? No recreation area. I want to see Richard Malouf squirm.'
Malouf had a genius for leaving enemies in his wake. Easy to see, at least on a personal level, why he would've needed to fake his death. I couldn't be sure how many of the affairs he'd conducted with women overlapped, but one thing's for sure-you can't keep that many balls in the air forever. Felicity Pargetter was serious and had to be taken seriously.
'Where is he then?' I said.
'Oh no, we have to lay down the ground rules. I have to be there when you tackle him.'
I wasn't sure that I wanted to tackle him. Malouf was more than twenty years younger than me and soccer, sailing and golf had no doubt kept him fit, but I knew what she meant.
I drank the rest of my coffee, cold and bitter though it was, and pointed to the bookshelves. 'I've got a few of the same books as you-novels and true crime stuff. It's all very interesting but only some of it relates to what really happens. If you're thinking of barging in on this guy, forget it. He could be very dangerous. He might be very frightened.'
'I doubt that, but go on.'
'OK, you know him better than me. I only met him a couple of times. The point is, we'd have to establish for certain where he is and who might be with him. He might or might not be dangerous or frightened, but he's associated with some people who are very dangerous and not at all frightened. I bear the scars.'
'I see. Miles told me you'd been roughed up.'
I laughed. 'Is that what he called it? OK, he's paying, he can call it what he likes, but I plan to go very cautiously on the basis of your information. That's if I think it's credible. If he's there I'll think hard about what to do next and who with. And I'll have the say about how far along the road you travel.'
She threw back her head and laughed. 'You sound like John Howard-"we will say who comes to this county…" '
I groaned. 'Don't say that. Where d'you think he is?'
'You've shaken my confidence, but… Watsons Bay.'