Private Sydney (Private 12)

Arnie informed us that Eric Moss may have worked 24/7, but he was adamant that employees stay healthy and fit in order to avoid work injuries and maintain efficiency. Eric believed that by coming out for a game of basketball, they could get together and exchange ideas while getting fit. It was the same reason they had weekly barbecues for staff. There was no alcohol consumed on the premises, so employees visited the Contigovale pub, which maintained good relations with the residents as well.

‘Did Eric attend the social functions?’

Arnie hoisted his trousers up. ‘He does barbecues but rarely visits the pub, unless it’s someone’s birthday. He’s usually working.’

As we walked around, Mary asked if the staff lived on the grounds.

‘No, all hundred or so of us live in temporary housing in town. In fact, some of the staff were born and bred in the area.’

‘Do you work in shifts?’

Arnie stared at his shoes and rubbed a scuff mark on the back of one leg. ‘Most are gone by seven at night. Eric discourages hours longer than that. We pool cars and come back to get an early start.’

It meant the base was minimally staffed through the evening and night. ‘How many guards do you work with?’ Mary enquired.

‘Four in the daytime – sometimes we act as tour guides to officials – and a couple at night.’

That seemed like minimal security for such a large organisation, particularly one with private government and defence contracts.

It also meant that flights could come and go without scrutiny or knowledge of staff. And so could Eric Moss.

Mary bent down and picked up a dead wasp. It was the only other form of life they’d seen, apart from Geoff and the security guard.

Arnie continued to sing Moss’s praises. ‘One of the first things he did was build a public pool in Contigovale. The local council gave us all these awards for service to the community. You see, the young kids were leaving town, businesses were closing. That changed when we came here. With all the training crews we get through, thousands of people bring money into the local economy every month.’

Clearly, Eric had ingratiated himself and Contigo Valley with local officials.

For a non-profit organisation, it seemed Moss was more than generous with borrowed or donated money.

Chapter 71

MARY AND I RETURNED to the plane, ready to head back to Sydney. Geoff wasn’t there so we looked around the hangar.

I turned to Mary. ‘Did you notice any security cameras?’

‘None.’

It was alarmingly lax for an organisation with international interests and million-dollar equipment stored in shipping containers in the open.

The hangar next door contained a helicopter, a Robinson R44.

Geoff wandered in as I was checking inside the cabin.

‘Is this the one Eric Moss flew?’

‘Sure is. She’s on stand-by for search and rescue now.’

Mary stepped back. ‘How often would Mr Moss take the chopper up? If she’d been mine, I’d have been in her at every opportunity.’

‘Come to think of it, not for a few months. We fly guests over the property in the Duchess.’ He became serious, almost morose. ‘Do you think Mr Moss is alive?’

The question took me a little by surprise. ‘Are you worried he may not be?’

‘Just that this all seems out of character for him. I can’t shake this feeling something bad has happened. I saw him on Thursday and he seemed off. It was as if he was distracted. He didn’t say anything, but I knew something was wrong.’

‘We’re going to find him,’ I reassured the pilot.

He took a deep breath. ‘You and Ms Clarke might as well grab a bite to eat at the canteen. I’ll come and get you once I’ve refuelled and done the safety check.’