Chapter Eighty
Lunch was at a beachside restaurant of Emma Saunders’ choosing – up-market and extremely expensive.
‘This is on the boss,’ she promised on the phone the prior day, ‘so let’s make the most of it.’
The window table overlooked Bondi Beach, and the rumbling crash of waves resonated throughout the room, periodically drowning out the murmur of chamber music that accompanied their meal.
‘Let’s start with French champagne,’ she suggested, ‘then we’ll move onto some superb Aussie reds.’
‘Sounds like you’ve got an ulterior motive.’
‘Goes without saying. This is an official interview with the rising star of the bar. Four sensational cases and four victories, albeit spread over ten years. You didn’t think this was a social event, did you?’
‘Never.’
If he were truthful, Matthew w
