‘Why?’
‘To protect ourselves. What he proposes could be of use to us. Who knows? We might get some sort of open warrant from him, I might. I’ll try for it. We’ll need all the fucking help we can get. I’m with you. I just don’t want to go bull-at-a-gate.’
‘Like Pascoe.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Shit!’
‘It’s better. Believe me. I can make a few calls tonight. I don’t suppose you want to tell me who your mystery informant is? That could help.’
I shook my head.
‘You don’t trust me?’
‘I don’t trust myself. I haven’t told anyone else as much as I’ve told you. A few people know little disconnected bits. And I’m keeping away from them, right away.’
‘That’s smart. Let’s get what we can out of the meeting with Bob Loggins. Then we can move on Teacher better prepared. I want this to work.’
What choices did I have? I wasn’t going to go rampaging round the eastern suburbs on my own. My promise to Joan Dare aside, that made no sense. Gallagher evidently had a cool head, something I had always lacked. I argued, but Gallagher had done his thinking and he had the wood on me. It was reasonable to suppose that Teacher and whoever he was working for thought they had contained the matter by killing Meadowbank and Farquhar. They might be on the alert, but they had no reason to suspect any immediate and present danger.
‘I’ve done some work on this,’ Gallagher said. ‘Divorces for Redding and Molesworth are in the works.’
Maybe that was the clincher, the awareness that he’d been down more of the tracks than me, maybe it was the buzz I was getting from the lower molar, but I agreed to Gallagher’s proposal-meet with Loggins, confer, act. We shook hands. He walked under the arch and up Norton Street towards the town hall. I went through the now quiet park where the tree shadows were long across the grass and paths and out to my car. I drove to the restaurant where Cyn and I had had our fight and I ate pasta and drank red wine. The food was good and the wine soothed my anxious spirit and my troublesome tooth.
18
Loggins put on a pair of half-moon glasses and looked at me over the top of them. Far from making him look academic, mild and inoffensive, they increased his menace. Gallagher, wearing a very smart suit, was sitting on Loggins’ right. We were in a small room in the College Street police building, grouped around a table with ashtrays, glasses and a water carafe. I was smoking. Gallagher had a packet of Marlboro and a lighter in front of him but he hadn’t touched them. Loggins had pushed his ashtray away which was just as well. Three men smoking in that small space would set up a hell of a fug, and the windows appeared to be sealed. An air conditioner was humming. The room was cool and we all had our jackets on. I’d surrendered my gun at the front desk.
‘I’ve seconded Detective Gallagher onto this team, Hardy,’ Loggins said. ‘He’s picked up some information relevant to our problem. Ian, over to you.’
I tensed. Was Gallagher going to double-cross me? Tell all I knew, claim credit for it somehow and still dangle me as a bait for Chalky Teacher? Gallagher lit a cigarette and began talking. After a few sentences, I relaxed. He said he’d heard that a very valuable commodity was at stake in the Meadowbank divorce.
Loggins grinned. ‘Wait till you hear this,’
‘A knighthood,’ Gallagher said.
Loggins got his reaction-I was very surprised. ‘A what?’
‘Going rate’s fifty grand,’ Gallagher said. ‘Cash down. The whisper is that Mrs Beatrice Meadowbank is lining up to marry a bloke who’s paid his money. He won’t get the gong though, if he’s linked with a woman who’s cited in a divorce case. That’s why Meadowbank was providing the co-re so his wife looks pure and innocent.’
‘And why it was bad news when he looked like backing out,’ Loggins said. ‘That was a useful contribution from you, Hardy, courtesy of your client.’
I was getting confused. Had I passed that on to Gallagher? I wasn’t sure. I nodded modestly. ‘Who’s the knight-to-be?’
‘I don’t know,’ Gallagher said. ‘I’m working on it, now that Bob’s given me a freer hand.’
This was tending in the right direction. I rolled a cigarette and concentrated on getting the ends right. ‘Still a bit messy, isn’t it? For Mrs M, I mean. Hubby shot down in the street…’
‘I’m a Catholic,’ Loggins said. ‘Marrying a widow’s OK and the innocent party in a divorce case isn’t too bad these days. The guilty party’s out, but. I reckon Mrs Meadowbank’s intended is a Catholic.’
Gallagher nodded. ‘It’s a strong possibility, Bob. The thing is, Hardy, this is all very delicate-as you can imagine.’
‘Political,’ I said.
Loggins removed his half-glasses. ‘Right. I want to keep it all tight among the three of us until there’s something solid to go on.’
I couldn’t help letting a sceptical look come over my face. ‘Inspector, this is the sort of thing that gets tucked away. You know that as well as I do.’
‘No!’ Loggins said fiercely. ‘I don’t know that. This is a criminal matter. Two fucking homicides that I want off the books.’
Gallagher stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Fifty thousand dollars is quite a lot of money. It doesn’t just go into one pocket. This can lead in a lot of different directions.’
I was putting off asking Loggins the big question. I looked at Gallagher. ‘Can you tell me where you picked this stuff up?’
‘From a man named Vernon Morris. He’s a clerk in Alistair Menzies’ office. I believe you know him.’
‘I’ve met him, yes.’
‘He got wind of it and he owed me a favour.’
‘OK,’ Loggins said. ‘The question is, what happens next? That’s where you come in, Hardy.’
Loggins had arranged to give an interview to a reporter in which my name would be mentioned ‘off the record’. The reporter was notorious for not respecting this convention and the implication would be that I knew what lay behind the Meadowbank and Farquhar murders. He intended to talk to Andrew Perkins and allow the same impression to be conveyed. Loggins was convinced that Perkins was more deeply involved than it presently appeared.
‘Mrs Meadowbank went to the country straight after the funeral,’ Gallagher said. ‘She gets back today. You’re going to see her and make a bloody nuisance of yourself. If she knows what’s going on, word will travel.’
I didn’t like the sound of that, and said so.
Tough luck, Hardy,’ Loggins snapped. ‘We’ve got enough on you to put your pissy little business down the dunny.’
‘I thought you liked me, Inspector.’
‘I like the idea of clearing this mess up and sticking it to a few people who deserve it, like Perkins and these idiots who want to be sirs. I like the thought of promotion for Detective Gallagher and myself…’
‘Good motivation,’ I said. ‘Assistant Commissioner Robert Loggins. Sound ring to that.’
‘Fuckin’ oath,’ Loggins said.
They were doing the rough old cop, smooth young cop, and not with any great finesse. Gallagher cut in with, ‘I can possibly do a bit through the professional channels with Morris. He’s decidedly dodgy.’
I hated ever word of it-the attitudes, the contempt and condescension-and I couldn’t help being bolshie. ‘Detective Gallagher’s got a law degree,’ I said to Loggins. ‘Did you know that?’
‘I don’t give a shit,’ Loggins said. ‘Are you going to do what you’re told, or not?’
‘How about my protection?’
Loggins relaxed. This was more his territory-people in fear. ‘I understand you’ve got a wife. Any kids?’
‘No. And my wife’s in Queensland for a bit.’
‘Good. That makes things easier. This is an eastern suburbs matter-Perkins, Meadowbank, Farquhar-all on that side. You and Gallagher are inner-west types. That’s good, too. Gallagher’ll look after you round the clock. He’s Darlinghurst-based, so he’s got some idea of the area. I’m a Coogee man myself. You’ll be all right, Hardy.’