‘Not really. I couldn’t locate the receipts for a table at a charity ball. I happened to mention it to Eric in passing. He said he had them in his office and told me to come at four o’clock the next day. He’s so lovely; he put half an hour aside so we could catch up over a cuppa.’
Mary glanced at me.
‘How much were the tickets for?’
‘$10,000. It’s like petty cash. Last year we turned over four hundred and seventy million dollars from donations and revenue.’
I downed my drink and asked if Moss had much to do with the finances.
‘Not routinely. Although he was adamant he handle some of the accounts himself, which he kept locked in a safe in his office.’
‘Didn’t that seem odd to you? No checks and balances?’
‘Not for us. Some of Contigo’s contracts deal with defence departments and international governments. They involve issues of national security. Oh, and Eric kept watch over Sir Lang’s expenses. The old man takes his wife on every imaginable junket, first class all the way, claiming he’s promoting the organisation around the world.’
Donors may not be thrilled about all the first-class travel in a non-profit organisation. I asked if Moss ever confronted Gillies about the spending.
‘No, but he kept his own record. It was easier to run the place efficiently without Sir Lang around to interfere. Gillies is a figure-head but he does bring donations in through his rich cronies.’
I wanted to know about Moss’s salary package and what sort of payout he would receive after that many years of service. It was all conjecture at this stage but I had to consider the common reasons for sudden resignation. If he took a better offer, that salary could narrow the companies who could afford him.
‘Could Eric have been headhunted by another company?’ Renee Campbell scoffed. ‘You obviously don’t know the man. Money means little to him. He costs Contigo about $40,000 a year and doesn’t even receive it.’
‘In expenses?’
‘No,’ the older woman chortled. ‘That was supposed to be his salary. He has every cent of it put into a trust for Eliza. She’ll have access to it on her fortieth birthday, or her father’s death. Whichever comes first.’
It sounded like an odd arrangement. I was curious. ‘How much is in it now?’
‘Due to investments, it’s around one and a half million, I believe.’
I had to wonder about Eliza now. Family members had killed for a lot less. The devoted daughter could have been an act. If Moss had been killed, and I could prove it, she was suddenly a lot wealthier.
Chapter 16
BACK AT THE office, Mary went over the Contigo brochures.
It was all we had until we got hold of the diary photo copies. The locked cabinet in Moss’s office could answer a lot of questions. That was, if Moss or Gillies hadn’t emptied it first.
As far as I was concerned, the circumstances of Moss leaving were suspicious. Lang Gillies was determined to make sure our access to all of Contigo’s records was blocked. There had to be something significant in the organisation’s books. Why else would Moss disappear after a minor discrepancy was discovered? Were the two events even related?
I decided to look into Contigo’s contracts. The website looked like it promoted an exclusive resort. Situated on thirty-five hectares just west of the Blue Mountains, it could have been a stunning rural retreat. There was little practical information apart from mention of training facilities for rescue workers, emergency retrieval operations and disaster simulations.
I ran a check on Lang Gillies first. Gut instinct said he was hiding something. On top of that, he was the last person known to have seen Eric Moss.
Gillies held dual UK and Australian citizenships and was knighted two years earlier for a life of service to the community. Prior to that, he used the title ‘Dr’ after being awarded an honorary doctorate in humanities from the University of Wollongong. The son of a High Court judge, he joined the air force and flew cargo planes. Interestingly, there was no record of him serving in Vietnam, despite his Who’s Who entry citing him as a pilot during the war.
My guess was that his father’s connections had kept him far away from conflict zones. Marrying the daughter of the state’s longest serving governor wouldn’t have hurt either.
From what I could gather, Lang started a cargo business in the 1970s then found his way on to the boards of charitable organisations. Ones his father-in-law happened to be patron of. He joined Contigo’s board twenty-seven years ago and had benefited ever since.
And Gillies had not only picked up a knighthood but also collected an honorary doctorate on the back of Moss’s work.
From what Oliver Driscoll had said, Moss was private and married to his job and wanted little remuneration or acknowledgement. The men couldn’t have been more different.
I wondered how Gillies’s expense account sat with someone like Moss. The CEO had to be independently wealthy to sacrifice a salary for all those years. More than that, he had to be very committed to the work they did there. I couldn’t help suspect he’d had a falling-out with Gillies. The old man certainly wasn’t mourning Contigo’s sudden loss.
And then there were the secret contracts and accounts in Moss’s safe. What could be so confidential that no one else in the organisation was permitted to know about it?