“Mr President, are you able to advise Councillors on which occasions you have had meetings with representative of Spandos International, who those representatives were, and what was the main topic of conversation at those meeting?”
The Quarabup Shire Council was made up of seven members, six ward representatives and a Shire President. Sam Malone was Shire President and had held that office for six years now, following three successive election victories.
The three Wards of the Shire were represented by two Councillors, one elected each year for two years. In the early history of the Shire, Councillors generally were local farmers who wanted to have a say in how rates and other government funding might be spent on local roads and highways. These days most Councillors are on a political journey with the ultimate goal of candidacy for one of the major parties at a state or federal election. Local Government was a place to learn the skills of working the community and effective political influence.
Sam Malone was an operator.
Not only was he involved in every property and business deal that was going down in this small village, he had the charisma to get others in alongside of him, sharing some of the glory perhaps, but also sharing some of the blame if things went a bit pear-shaped. But they rarely did – go pear-shaped that is.
Spandos International came into the village a few years ago and started buying up any riverside properties as they came up, significantly inflating the prices so as to secure the sale, but also effectively scaring off would-be contenders for the properties. They weren’t locals, but the came in with flashy cars, stayed at the one resort Motel in the village for a few days, and then left until the next property came up for sale. No-one was quite sure how they knew when to call by, but it did not pass unnoticed that shortly after their first visit, Sam Malone upgraded his Holden Caprice for a black BMW.
Increasingly nervous residents of the riverfront watched as block after block around them was bought up and left to decay – no tenants, no renovation and not even any demolitions. They knew something was up, but had no idea what.
Then Spandos called a press conference in the Town Hall. They had architectural models and multi-coloured Planning Scheme type maps of the whole riverfront which was completely transformed into a gated canal estate with every block backing onto water with its own private landing. At the heart of the estate was an eleven story block of luxury apartments and short-stay hotel suites.
Country TV and the National broadcaster were there of course as was the crusty editor of the South Coast Tribune, Tony (Clark Kent) Cassidy. Cassidy had a nose for a good story, and when Spandos flagged the Press Conference he knew he had to be there. He brought a young cadet report with him – Sophie Jones. “Watch and learn,” he said to her as the announcements started. He noted with some interest that Sam Malone was hovering around the sidelines of this event with a really smug look on his face, and occasionally whispering into the delicate ears of crisply suited men from Spandos. Spandos had lodged formal applications for the Planning Approvals necessary to allow the proposed development, and wanted to assure the general public of Quarabup that the Development would provide a wide range of positive outcomes for the village – work, tourism and improved property values – and promised that if the proposal was approved by the Shire there would be additional benefits for the whole community at Spandos’ expense.
Inevitably, the next issue of The Tribune had a front page story voicing outrage at the proposal as completely out of character with the village. He even very carefully drew attention to the presence of the Shire President at the Press Conference, hinting at possible impropriety without crossing the line that would expose him and the paper to a defamation suit.
This was enough to fire up three of the Councillors who took it upon themselves to comb through the application paperwork that was in the hands of Council officials to see if there were any tangible links to the Shire President or Riverland Realty.
So it was, that at the end of the Public Question time allowed at the beginning of each Council meeting, Councillor Quartermaine asked leave of the Chair to suspend so much of Standing Orders as would allow the Council to consider a matter of public importance. The Councillors opposite Cr Quartermaine were usually allies of Cr Malone but they were sufficiently alarmed by the reports they had seen and were prepared to hear what was said. If it came to a crunch they could combine with Malone to defeat any action proposed.
There was some muttering in the Visitor’s Gallery of local residents as the Chair put the question. Slowly he reported “I think the ayes have it. Cr Quartermaine.”
Councillor began by dancing carefully around the events of the past week and the disclosure that a big international development corporation had plans to redevelop the riverfront land of Quarabup into a facility that was completely out of character with the town. Then he dropped his bombshell.
“Mr President, are you able to advise Councillors on which occasions you have had meetings with representative of Spandos International, who those representatives were, and what was the main topic of conversation at those meeting?”
Sam Malone had been prepared to defend the proposal in terms of the benefits it would bring to “Sleepy Hollow” as he sometimes condescendingly referred to Quarabup when he wanted to have a go at any who wanted to resist the development of the town. This question caught him somewhat off guard. He hesitated as he shuffled some of the papers in front of him, as if looking for a script to refer to. He looked up as if trawling through the recesses of his memory for a minute detail.
“Cr Quartermaine, I may have had a meeting some time ago, I can’t be more precise without my diary, but I am sure that if I did it would have been in the context of my business rather than as Shire President.”
There were audible gasps from the Visitor’s Gallery. Cr Muldoon interjected “That would be a conflict of interest, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, yes, Councillor, it would be if a motion about the proposal was on the table, and should my business dealings with Spandos International become more substantial than mere questions of advice about property matters in this quiet village, such as asking me to act on their behalf in property matters, then I would be more than happy to declare that Interest should such a motion be brought before this Council.” As Cr Malone progressed through this statement his confidence grew. It was clear his mind had identified the pathway he would follow to navigate through this and come out unscathed, as he always did.
But Cr Quartermaine could sense the undercurrent of fear in his voice, despite that persona of confidence. He wanted an early wounding here, in what he knew would become a prolonged battle, for the Planning Committee was notoriously circumlocutory in the way they dealt with Applications. “So, Mr President, are you sure you only ‘may have had a meeting’ with representatives of Spandos. Sources I have tracked down have seen your car parked with out-of-towners, perhaps representatives of Spandos, on numerous occasions at the riverfront. Or is this just a coincidence?”
“Cr Quartermaine! You must understand that I deal with confidential enquiries from potential clients every day. Their business is not your business. Nor is it the business of all the members of the public who are gathered in the Visitor’s Gallery tonight. I can assure all Councillors that if and when the nature of my business relationship with Spandos reaches a point at which my Interest needs to be Declared, you can rely on me to do so.”
Someone in the Visitor’s Gallery called out “Answer the question, Malone!”
Sam Malone was in full combat mode now. “I would remind members of the public that it is a privilege to sit in the Gallery and observe the proceedings of this Council, but you are not entitled to participate in the proceedings. Any further outbursts like that will result in Council Officers being asked to accompany you outside and leave the meeting.” As he said this, he noticed for the first time Springtime Kestrel, leader of the cluster of ‘ferals’ that have occupied five old timber mill cottages on the western edge of the town. The mill relocated across town years ago, and Cannons abandoned the practice of providing housing for staff. They all had dreadies, coloured their hair green or purple, decorated their verandahs with strings of coloured Tibetan prayer flags and spent far too long lounging around smoking stuff that probably was illegal, but somehow never seemed to be.
Sam reckoned they were professional protesters – any environmental issue anywhere would see a busload of them drive off into the sunset for the next little challenge to the establishment. Whatever the establishment did had to be opposed by them, it seemed. No consideration of the public good of these proposals. No consistent ideology other than oppose everything that is modern. Sam had even speculated that they did not inoculate their kids like everyone else did and would prefer to take so-called ‘natural remedies’ from the bush than medicines that have been trialled and proven that they make you better.
The muttering in the Visitor’s Gallery gradually died down. Cr Quartermaine was not finished. “With respect, Mr President, the member of the public is dead right in asking that you answer the question. Your reassurances are all very well, but you have not answered my question.”
Sam stopped for a few seconds, as if he was deciding which way to jump. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, “As I go over this matter again in my mind, Cr Quartmaine, remembering that I do not have my calendar of appointments for work with me tonight, I would say that I might have had two perhaps three meetings with representatives of Spandos International which, although they were very informal, did ask general kinds of questions about the state of the property market in Quarabup, something I would remind Councillors that I have some professional expertise in, and seeking informal indications or opinions from me about the kinds of developments I thought, not as Shire President, would be likely to succeed and provide benefits to the whole town.”
This man will make a great politician one day given his ability to beat around the bush for so long and really give away very little – just enough to get the hounds off is back. At least that was what Sam was thinking to himself as the words rolled off his tongue.
“Thank you, Mr President,” responded Cr Quartermaine. “In view of your response, I wonder if you would tell me and other Councillors, then, exactly what you were doing in the Town Hall during the recent Press Conference called by Spandos International.”
Sam was hoping to avoid this. How was he going to make this look as innocent as possible? He knew he was treading a fine line between his role as a business man and as a Councillor.
“Councillor, I think at this point in time, in consideration of POSSIBLE commercial on confidence matters, it would not be appropriate for me to answer that question precisely. All I am prepared to say is that in the near future, when decisions are to be made by this Council concerning the development proposals being made by Spandos International, I expect that I will be required to declare an interest in the matter and abstain from the discussion of them. Beyond that speculative possibility, I am not prepared to make any comment.”
One of Sam’s allies sensed that it was time to set him free. “Mr President, I move that Cr Quartermaine be no longer heard.”
“Thank you Councillor. All those in favour? Against? Crs Knight, Robertson and Stewart being in favour, and Crs Quartermaine, Italiano and Muldoon being against, the Chair uses his casting vote to resolve the question in favour of the Ayes.
“The next item on the agenda…”
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