It's War

It was clear to Sam Malone that Tony Cassidy could be the undoing of him.  There was a reason the likes of him were called newshounds.  When they stumbled across a suspicious "smell" then nothing was going to distract them till they found the source and nature of that smell.  But he couldn't be sure that this was the work of Cassidy.  It made some sense to lie low on it for a while.  If he tried to find out who was involved, and drew too much attention to it, people who otherwise were not thinking of the possibilities of a link between him and Spandos could be alerted to it - by his own action.

In the mean time it might be as well for him to alert Spandos to the circumstances and see if they could cool it for a while.  Maybe it would blow over.

Needless to say, Sam's mind did not rest easily during this period, and perhaps as much for his own sake he wondered about something that might distract everyone from the Canals project.

A couple of days later, Sam dropped by to see Tom Knight.  Tom was his strongest ally on Council and he was chair of the Planning Committee.  He organised for Tom to drop by his home in the early evening.  He said to Tom that we wanted to explore an idea before going out there with it.

When Tom arrived Sam took a new bottle of Glenfiddich and two glasses and retreated to his office, leaving Nicky watching TV with her plaything - Cindy, a honey coloured Maltese terrier.  Tom was wondering if this was going to be a long night.

They chatted a bit generally about Council affairs to begin with until Sam finally took charge.

"Tom," he said.  "I am real worried about this Spandos thing.  You know how I have been very careful to keep my distance, and God knows I haven't broken the law or anything, but geeze I'm worried that someone will take one little thing out of context and it will all look like I'm in with Spandos all the way."

"Look, Sam." Tom had the sound of authority in his voice, like he was talking to one of his own staff.  "You and I both know that nothing has happened since the break in last week.  There wasn't a peep in the local rag - Cassidy would be throwing out hints if he had anything to go on.  In a game like this you just have to keep your cool."

"Or try and beat them at their own game."  Sam could see the irony, since it was he who was playing a game.  "I've been wondering if it might be an idea to distract them a little.  Give them something to be suspicious about that is as pure as the driven snow."

"What do you mean?  Send them on a wild goose chase."

"Well, what I was wondering was if maybe the Planning Committee could start throwing around some ideas about redeveloping the retail precinct at the top end of Main Street.  Maybe they could start some chatter in the community about trying to get one of those shopping centre-type places.  Have a competition for a plan to redesign the whole space, or ask for expressions of interest from developers.  I don't really want to do anything, but people will think that because my office is part of the Arcade that I am behind it for a bit of a cut or something.  What do you reckon?"

"I can see where you're coming from, Sam.  The Planning Committee has been thinking we need to review the regional development plan.  Maybe in the context of that we could throw that one in.  The town will be in uproar because they all have a stake in the Co-op at the other end of Main Street.  And because it is so out of left field, it could have the desired effect.  I bet old Quatermaine would blow a gasket once that came through in the Minutes of a Planning Committee meeting.  And he would smell a rat."

"What made me think of it was in that last big bushfire we had out in the National Park, one fire was getting too hot and it was too difficult for them to manage, but there was a little valley that they had good access to to control a burn through that, towards the big fire front, and this other fire sucked all the heat out of the big fire - somehow."  Ten years ago, Sam had been an integral part of the local Bushfire Brigade, but once his business cranked up and he got onto the shire, he didn't have the time for it that he used to have.

Sam got up and topped up the drinks.  "When I was 21, my dad bought me a bottle of 21 year old Glenfiddich.  I waited till Cindy was born before I tried it, and ever since then I haven't been able to face bourbon or any of those blends like Johnny Walker.  I just buy the best Glenfiddich I can afford.  There is nothing as exquisite as a single malt of some years maturity."

"You've never known me to knock back some of your whiskey, Sam.  It is worth drinking."

"One day I want to go on one of those tours of Scotland where you go from one whiskey place to another - trying stuff that is never going to be in the shops."

"Getting back to this little plan."  Tom wanted to be sure that if he was driving this through the Planning Committee they really had to be clear on their objectives.  This might even be a high-risk strategy, opening Sam up to scrutiny on a second front.  "The most important thing we have to be really clear on is how to make sure this smoke screen will not turn around and bight us even harder than the Canals Project could.  Then where would we be."

Sam went over to his desk, pulled out a draw and took up a huge Cuban cigar, lit it up and in his best imitation of Winston Churchill simply said "We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender,"

"So its war, then is it?"

"Yes, Tom, I think it is, and we have to beat them at this game, or we are as good as dead, anyway."

The men talked and drank their way through half that very good bottle of Glenfiddich before Tom made the first move towards home.

Before the week was out, Tom had listed the regional development plan as a discussion item on the Agenda of the Planning Committee meeting scheduled for Tuesday the following week.  The Local Government Act now required Councils to publish the Agenda's and Minutes of all Council Committees on a web-site so that people could access them - in the name of democracy and transparency.  Tony Cassidy, Editor of the South Coast Tribune and known affectionately as Clark Kent, made it a habit to check these on the regular cycle of Council and Committee meetings.  Agenda items would sometimes alert him to occasions he should not let pass by with his absence.  The listing for discussion of the Regional Development Plan nearly got past Tony's radar until he remembered that last time it was reviewed, they talked about creating a road rating system that would see major roads within the precincts of the Village open to the installation of electronic traffic management systems - traffic lights!  The mere suggestion of this brought the ferals out on the streets waving banners and decrying the wasteful effect of lights stopping cars when there is no need for them to do so to pass through an intersection safely.  They also found out that there were far more and far more serious accidents at intersections controlled by traffic lights than those controlled by signs or round abouts.  So, on purely environmental grounds, the Shire scrapped the idea of traffic lights - a win for the greenies.

So, Tony wondered if this little item on the agenda might be something worth paying attention to.  If only he had known that he was playing right into the trap.

Tony published three times a week - Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday - so he was wondering if this committee might be a page one or a page five story.  You never knew.  Anything could happen.  What Tony noticed was that the Council was actually fairly evenly balanced between supporters and detractors of Sam Malone.  This meant that everything was played for maximum leverage.  They may not have been playing for sheep stations, but they had the same amount of passion in the way they approached the Shire's business.

The Committee worked without much passion through the planning matters that had been on the agenda for a number of meetings as each matter was progressed a little further through the typical bureaucratic process of a local government planning body.  Tom Quatermaine then drew the Committee's attention to the fact that it was time for the routine review of the Regional Development Plan.

Tom reminded members of the process that needed to be adhered to, involving some public consultation as well as giving consideration to various creative ideas for the future of the Village.  There was some general discussion and then Tom lobbed the 'grenade'.  "I know that Main Street has been pretty much as it has been for fifty years, but I was wondering, indeed I have heard a little muttering on the street, suggesting that it was time to update the whole retail thing in Quarabup, especially the top end of Main Street.  What say we put out for Expressions of Interest to develop a new plan for the retail precinct of the top end of Main Street?  You never, know, we might get some good ideas, especially if we have some good community consultations."

Tony noticed the multiple references to the top end of Main Street and the beginnings of the smell of a rat were apparent.  By the time the meeting was over, Tony had mapped out his front page story.  He knew how to get the community going about something.  With a bit of good sleuth work before Thursday's edition was put to bed, the resident's of sleepy hollow, as some affectionately called Quarabup, were in for a rude awakening on Thursday.