Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- DEADLY SAS RAID IN AFGHANISTAN UNDER SCRUTINY
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- PART TWO
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- DANIEL MOORE: ‘A SINGLE BLOKE, HAPPY-GO-LUCKY, A BIT OF A DUNCE BUT WITH A GOOD HEART,’ BEST FRIEND SAYS.
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- BREAKING: POLICE CONFIRM DANIEL MOORE ACTED ALONE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- SECOND ARREST MADE IN WESTAY HIDDEN CAMERAS CASE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Discover More
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Also by J. P. Pomare
‘Cain,’ I say. Why didn’t he tell me this earlier? I never showed interest, but I didn’t want to know. It still doesn’t sit right with me, the stigma of gambling, of addiction. And this is a lot to keep from me, so what else might he be keeping secret? ‘Do we have to pay tax on this?’
‘Technically not,’ he says. ‘It’s a hobby.’
‘And where is the money?’
‘It’s in the betting accounts.’
‘Can you show me, the money going into them?’
The air seems to cool, he bristles. ‘You don’t trust me, do you?’
‘I just want to see it, where it came from.’
He swivels on his chair, regards me for a moment. ‘If it means that much to you.’ First, he opens a browser, shows me one account, all the bets, the wins and the losses, the balance. Then he opens up a program, and a number of flags from different countries drop down. He chooses one and goes to another website, this time it’s an Australian website.
‘What was that?’
‘It’s a proxy server. It just means I can use international betting agencies. Their servers think I’m somewhere I’m not.’
‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘Like I said, a mate at the gym. Axel helped as well. He knows more about the proxy servers.’
He shows me a number of different accounts, all with betting histories and different balances. It’s thousands of dollars total. Then he closes them, turns back to me and asks, ‘Happy now? I’m not blowing all of our money or whatever else you’re worried about.’
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I don’t know what I was worried about. I just don’t want you to do this without talking to me. It’s our money and our future. And you’re going to be a dad soon.’
‘A man in Australia, David Walsh, was so successful at betting he opened a museum and is one of the richest men in Australasia. It’s a viable way to make good money.’ He pauses. ‘But I know it worries you so I’ll try to keep you in the loop more in the future.’
You also have another secret, Cain. You visited that house and I need to know why.
‘ The builder is repairing the damage to the lake house this weekend,’ he says. ‘It’s not much, he’s just patching up the wall, replacing the window and fixing the rain damage. Your grandpa’s chest is with a restorer, he thinks he might be able to repair it.’
‘Great,’ I say, standing. ‘I might try get a quick run in while the sun is out.’
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