Black Opal by Jimmy Brook - HTML preview

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CHAPTER EIGHT

 

The head office for Oceanic Mining was on one of the upper levels of a high rise business tower in Miller Street, North Sydney, to the north of the city. It commanded good views of the harbour, and would not be cheap.

 

Rory sat himself down in a very soft recliner, which he thought might prove difficult to remove himself from, and alternately watched the young receptionist do what she did, and the view of the harbour, through the big tinted window. He speculated on what he had done, would warrant a call by the top brass.

 

"You can go in, Mr. Mason." The words broke his train of thought.

 

He smiled at the girl, and wondered why that front line position, always seemed to be filled by that type of person. Young, well built, and short dresses. Whether she could type, was unknown, as the machine remain covered. He followed her to a large wooden door, with big brass handles. She opened it and stood in the doorway to let him past, a point not unnoticed by him as he squeezed by with a cheesy grin. Ahead was an enormous desk, and an equally enormous man sitting behind it. He did not rise. Cheap prints adorned the walls and a drink cabinet and lounge were at the back. A visitors chair sat before the desk. Rory remained standing.

 

"Sit. You'll have my neck giving me heaps, if I have to keep looking up. Name's Darius. Montgomery Darius. You call me Mr. Darius unless you're in the family or in my golf club, neither of which applies or appears ever possible.”

 

"I'm Rory Mason.”

 

"Know who you are, or you wouldn't be here.”

 

Rory then had made his first observation. That Darius was setting the ground rules, as to who was boss. He hadn't uttered any words like 'you're fired', so he was still on the payroll, perhaps!

 

Darius put down the folder he was reading, and looked at Rory without saying anything, for a few seconds. "Might do," he muttered to himself. Then he lit up a cigar. Rory smoked a little, a bad habit he acquired after his wife's passing. He actually felt nauseous with cigar smoke, but thought this was not a time to voice his opinion. He decided to test the waters.

 

"Is this about the incident at the Kampar River dredge? There is a....”

 

Darius interrupted him. "Smoke if you want. Like to savour those first few seconds of a Cuban, without distractions."

Rory decided to pass.

 

"Knife injury. How is it?”

 

'Concession. He cares about my well being', thought Rory.

 

"Tender, but on the mend. Caught unawares.”

 

"Cost a fortune to sort out. Ought to charge you, but you got friends.”

 

Rory just shrugged his shoulders. So much for employer support.

 

"Is there a point to me being here?' He was starting to get impatient. If it was the chop, why the interview?

 

"Just sit and listen. I may appear a callous bastard, and that's because I am. One has to be to run this show, and not go down the gurgler. But I do care about the people who work for me, whoever. Getting sliced up is not a work hazard I wish on anyone. We could compare scars some day.”

 

"I understand," said Rory.

 

"Good. Like someone who has respect but is their own person. Johnston said I could rely on you, and he's probably right. You obviously didn't come between him and his women, or you'd be still decaying in the jungle. Drink?”

 

Rory nodded, and Darius got up and poured two scotches.

 

'No blends here, real malt,' thought Rory.

 

"OK. You tell me what happened. No fancy side steps.”

 

Rory took a deep sip, and told it as it happened. He even mentioned about the nurse he had shared his company with. Darius listened without interrupting. "I have no problem with your story or your actions. What you don't know is the second act. Much more gory than act one.”

 

Rory raised his eyebrows.

 

Darius recounted what he had got from Matt and Spikey's report to Trevor Johnston.

 

Rory was astounded and slowly held up his glass.

 

"I don't usually in the day, but do you mind. This is a bit of a shock."

 

"Help yourself.”

 

The whisky was beginning to take effect on Rory. "And now?”

 

"Straight to the point. No beating around the bush, eh? Good.

 

What do you know about opals?”

 

This was a spinning ball he didn't expect. "Pretty. Some women go crazy over them and some don't. The best ones are found in about  three places in Australia. Otherwise zero.”

 

"Fair enough. Your education is about to begin. Oceanic has interests in two opal mines, you might say the boutique end of our operations. Not big a operation but gives us profile and a little diversity."  He lit another cigar.  "About 2 months back, things started to go astray. Output dropped. Opals started disappearing, and returns nose dived. I was overseas on extended business, so it's getting belated attention.”

 

"What's your manager, or managers, say?”

 

Darius looked over his horn rims, at Rory, but didn't answer straight away. He wasn't used to being interrupted, but overlooked it. "Adrian Bedford runs both mines, splitting his time. There's a couple of staff at each, locals. We talked 2 or 3 times on the phone. Said he was following it up. A week ago he

rang to say he had some leads and would fax me details. That's when I decided someone should check it out. Then your business at the dredge came up, so I waited. No fax has arrived, and he's not answering his phone. We had the local authorities pay a visit to his place, and both digs. Hasn't been seen for days. And one of the sites is deserted.”

 

As there was a respectful pause, Rory spoke.

 

"You want me to go pay a visit, and find out what's happened?”

 

"Just because I kept you on the payroll, doesn't give you any say where you go or what you think you'll do." His voice wasn't raised, but it was matter of fact, and firm. Rory bit his tongue.

 

"I want you to assist one of our people. They call the shots and make the decisions, and you do what you're told. Nothing more.

 

Any questions?”

 

"Where are the mines?”

 

"Lightning Ridge, up north. I consider it the best area in Australia for quality opal. Black Opal." He punched a button on his desk. "Gloria, where is that offspring of mine?”

 

"Practically there, Mr. Darius," came the reply.

 

Rory inwardly sighed. Wet nursing the boss's son wasn't something that appealed to him. Probably an arrogant know it all, and he'd end up having to baby sit him and solve the problem.

 

He didn't have time for any further speculation. The person who came through the door, caught him off guard. He wasn't expecting a woman. When she spoke, he knew this woman could handle whatever problems came her way.

 

"Hi dad. Last minute things to settle." She looked at Rory, and stuck out her hand. "Tania Darius. I gather dad has filled you in." He took it, and felt the strength, both of her clasp and her personality.

 

"Rory Mason.”

 

"Read your file last night. It's only one page, so you can fill me in, when we have time. That's if there is anything to add. Ground rules are brief. Like father, like daughter, and I run the show and decide when we dig. When that happens, you do the digging. Point Two. Some information may be confidential, and will be off limits. Live with it. Also, I'm off limits. Any questions before we go?”

 

Rory's head was spinning. "I think you've covered everything. If I have worthwhile input......"

 

She interrupted him. "I want to sort out our problem, whatever it is. I don't want to be saddled with anything that doesn't help that end." She turned and walked to the window.

 

Rory was sure his question was answered, just that he didn't understand the answer. He'd play it by ear. "There is one thing.”

 

"Yes," she answered, making it sound more like a statement than a question, and not turning around to look at him.

 

"When?”

 

Darius drained his glass. "Left the details to you, Tan.

 

She turned quickly, and headed for the door. "Today, Mr. Mason.”

 

Rory caught her smile, as her face reflected in one of the hanging pictures. "Be at the Air Hazelton desk at Sydney airport by three o'clock. Ticket in your name. Don't be late." Then she was gone.

 

"Don't under estimate her," said Darius, "I wouldn't let her go, if I wasn't sure of her. Follow your instincts, and your instructions." A friendly pat on the shoulder, and a definite propelling towards the door.

 

"Thanks for the confidence, Mr. Darius.”

 

As Rory opened the door, Darius added, "Make sure nothing happens to her, Mason, she's all I've got.”

 

Rory turned and nodded, then left.