‘Sounds like a good strategy.’
‘I don’t care for it so I’ve been doing some digging on my own. I’ve come up with a few things that I wanted to try on you.’
‘You want to waltz around with me, leaving Bob Loggins out of it? Loggins? I’ve already got my immediate superior hating my guts, I don’t need one of the top Homicide D’s joining the club. I don’t think I can help you.’
It was what I’d expected and hoped he’d say. To jump straight at what I was offering you’d have to be crazy, and a crazy ally is worse than none at all. Still, I hoped to work on his vanity and ambition.
‘I think you were on the right track,’ I said. ‘My information is that there’s a conspiracy behind the two killings. It involves divorces, reputations, careers, probably property settlements as well. I’ve only got a few chips off the tip of the iceberg, but they’re interesting.’
Gallagher’s young-old face set into lines of intense concentration. ‘Go on.’
‘I’ve got two names-Redding and Molesworth. I’m told there’s more from the same side of the street. Redding you’d have heard of, Molesworth’s a big-time surgeon. Meadowbank was in on it, too. As I hear it, a couple of lawyers and PEAs arranged for convenient co-respondents, permitting clean divorces. Andrew Perkins was in on it to some extent, but it looks as if Juliet Farquhar who worked in his office took her own run at it and became a nuisance. Meadowbank wanted to pull out. He’d got less interested in divorce. There’s a possibility that whoever killed him really meant to get Virginia Shaw, or perhaps both of them. I’m not sure about that.’
‘Where have you been getting this?’
‘Some from Virginia Shaw. I’m working for her now, in a way.’
Gallagher seemed about to react to that but he held off and continued demolishing his plastic cup. He had a lot of options to consider and I didn’t mind him taking his time.
‘I’ve got another source, too. Can’t tell you who it is, but he’s put the finger on the man who killed Meadowbank.’
Gallagher’s fair head with its carefully combed thick hair came up slowly. He dropped the cup and the bits he’d torn from it in the bin. ‘And who would that be?’
I shook my head. ‘I need some undertakings first.’
‘That’s an unfortunate choice of words,’ Gallagher said. ‘But how about this: I go to Loggins now and tell him what you’ve told me. It fleshes out some things I had an inkling about. Then we haul you in and squeeze you until you cough up the name of this source of yours and the alleged killer and anything else we choose to ask you about. Col Pascoe’s got a fucking truckload of charges he’d like to stick up you, don’t forget.’
‘Wouldn’t work.’
‘Why not?’
‘First, you’d have to explain to Loggins how you went to me without talking to him first. That’d be hard and Pascoe’d love it. Suppose you got past that somehow, I’d deny everything. Then you’d be in the possession of information with no way of accounting for it convincingly. It would have to occur to Loggins and Pascoe that you’d been talking to people you shouldn’t, and without keeping a record. I’d be in the shit, sure, but you’d be in it with me, Ian.’
He flashed the Redford grin. ‘Pretty smart. OK, why don’t you take the information to Loggins?’
‘I don’t trust him. I’ve got this nasty suspicion that what some Homicide detectives are best at is arranging homicides.’
‘That bespeaks a shocking want of confidence in the police force. Not that I’m saying the organisation’s perfect, mind. I’ve got a law degree from the University of New South Wales, did you know that?’
‘I had the feeling you didn’t go straight from your school certificate into the academy.’
‘Right. It’s held me back in the force, the LL fucking B. Isn’t that amazing? So, Cliff, you don’t trust Pascoe because he’s a nong, and you distrust Loggins because he’s a Homicide squad heavy, but you do trust me?’
‘No, I don’t, but you’re in the same boat as me, approximately. People are trying to use and manipulate you and you don’t like it. Same here. Our interests sort of intersect on this.’
Gallagher nodded. ‘You wanted undertakings. Like what?’
‘Not much. I want to know everything Loggins says when you see him today.’
Gallagher laughed. ‘Call that not much, do you? That’s my fucking job, right there. What do I get in return?’
‘The name of the killer and the chance to get hold of him and give him a shake while he’s not expecting anything. Tonight.’
‘Alleged killer.’
‘An awful lot of things about him fit. I saw him, remember.’
‘Such as?’
‘Uh huh,’ I said. ‘All that comes later.’
Gallagher stood up. I noticed for the first time that his suit was an expensive piece of tailoring and fitted him very well. He didn’t fiddle with cuffs or creases though. ‘OK, Hardy,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back at five this afternoon. I see Bob Loggins at three. Just now, I’ve got a time sheet to falsify.’ He gave me a business-like nod and stalked towards the door. When he opened it I fancied I heard a noise outside, but it was probably only Jack the rat.
17
I rang the Cairns number Cyn had given me but the person who answered told me that Ms Lee was spending the whole day at the site. I left the message that Ms Lee’s husband had called and would call again. Cyn had kept her maiden name for professional use. She joked that if we had a son we should call him Lee Hardy. I suggested adding Proprietary Limited, but she didn’t seem to think that was funny. Having children wasn’t a subject that came up often and, when it did, my reaction was almost always to make a joke of it. The thought of a son chilled me. How can you teach someone to behave properly when you don’t know how to behave yourself?
I answered the phone a few times through the day. Work was coming in. I lined up interviews for later in the week, explaining that I had a job on hand that was taking all my time but I would be free soon. The prospective clients were promising-a missing person case, not a child, thank God, and a Double Bay restaurateur who doubted the honesty of his partner. Sounded as if there could be a free meal or two in that one, but first, I had to stay alive and in business. I went out and had a slice of pizza and a coffee for lunch, in keeping with my resolve to make it a dry day. The Falcon was sitting nicely on Primo’s slab and only dripping a tiny amount of oil.
I bought a paper which occupied a very small part of the afternoon. I knew that up-coming divorces had to be listed somewhere, possibly for public consumption. But I didn’t know where. I was acutely conscious of being new at the game. Ernie Glass had told me that a private investigator needed a ‘tame’ cop-it seemed to me that a tame lawyer, motor mechanic and dentist would come in handy, too. I was trying not to admit it, but a tooth in the vicinity of where Coleman’s backhander had landed was sending out signals. I puzzled about the keeping of notes. It didn’t seem wise to make a record of conversations with Maxwell and Joan Dare, and exactly where would I file them, anyway? They didn’t really belong under Meadowbank or Shaw and I hadn’t got so desperate as to open a file called ‘Survival’. I blew dust from the office Gregory’s and looked up the addresses for Teacher and his boss, Max Wilton. Joan said something about the name nagged at her and I had the same feeling, as if there was a connection between various bits of information to be made. It eluded me, though.
I smoked too much and was thinking seriously about a drop of red to ease the rough throat when the phone rang at about 4.30. Temptation put aside, I answered it.
‘Hardy? This is Bob Loggins. I want to see you at College Street at ten sharp tomorrow morning. OK?’
‘How did the ballistics work out?’
‘Ten o’clock. On the dot.’ He hung up. He was short on charm, long on confidence that I’d do what he wanted.
The phone rang again soon after. It was Gallagher this time, sounding tense and worried. He told me to meet him in a park in Norton Street, Leichhardt in half an hour.