‘Yes?’
‘I got a good look at her. The woman on Crime Stoppers. Described as a Caucasian woman.’
‘How good’s the light there?’
‘Well, Stuart’s got an elaborate security set-up,’ said Phipps. ‘I’ll go so far as to say he’s paranoid. Not without some reason, I might add, he had a…’
‘Mr Phipps, I have things to do.’
‘Right. Well, he’s got cameras on both gates, the driveway, you drive into this bay, you press a button, and then you’re told to wind down all your windows so the cameras on both sides can see everyone in the car.’
‘You saw her clearly.’
‘The security lights were on. It’s like daylight. She got into a black BMW. Tinted windows.’
Villani felt the pulse, but you didn’t want to excite them. They thought they’d seen things, if you took them seriously, they became more convinced.
‘Mr Phipps, people phone in with stuff like this all the time. They identify their ex-best friends, their in-laws, people who give them shit at the supermarket.’
‘No, no, I’ve got the Crime Stoppers on tape, I was recording, a bit serendipitous really, I wanted the program after it. I’ve looked at it over and over.’
Villani looked at the room. Dove’s sallow face was partly visible behind a pillar.
He found a card, gave it to Phipps. ‘Name, address, contact numbers.’
Phipps blinked rapidly, got out a pen, a fountain pen, took off the cap and mounted it on the back.
Villani took the paper. ‘Why’d you wait so long?’
Phipps drank, a bigger drink. ‘Well, you have doubts. I considered going to Stuart…just mulled it over really.’
‘You didn’t go to Koenig?’
‘No.’
‘How long did you work for him?’
‘A year. I was on a contract.’
‘Not renewed?’
‘People want change, new ideas. My replacement’s a woman.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Nothing really. Well, I think Stuart’ll be happier with a woman.’
‘Why’s that?’
Uneasy look. ‘I shouldn’t talk about him. He doesn’t like being stood up to. A bully actually. And women. It’s my experience, they’ll put up with a bit more.’
‘You’re trying to shaft him?’ Villani said.
‘God no, I’m trying to do what a citizen should do. A person missing.’
‘Dead.’
Phipps showed surprise, square teeth. ‘It didn’t say that.’
‘When you saw her at Koenig’s, what did you think she was doing there?’
‘No idea. Visitor.’
‘See the driver of the BMW?’
‘No.’
‘How far from her were you?’ said Villani.
Phipps pointed at the bar. ‘Here to there. What, three metres? She looked at me, that’s why I’m sure.’
‘The cameras. Koenig would have vision of this?’ ‘That’s the point, isn’t it?’
‘Date and time?’
‘Just after ten, two weeks ago, Thursday.’
‘Koenig was there?’
‘His car was there, lights on in the house.’
‘Someone can confirm your movements?’
‘When I left the office, yes. And when I got home.’
‘The document, the briefing? Leave it in the box?’
‘Oh yes. Three copies stamped, time and date.’
‘I’ll be in touch, Mr Phipps,’ Villani said. ‘We’ll need a proper statement. Meanwhile, don’t tell anyone you’ve talked to me, that’s important. Okay?’
Phipps nodded, leaned. ‘Can I ask? Is that your photographer or some student doing a documentary on pubs?’
Villani didn’t look for Dove. ‘Student. They’re everywhere. Menace. Thanks for your public-spiritedness.’
In the car, he said to Dove, ‘The trick is they don’t see you. Look at the screen not the target.’
‘Saw me?’
‘Blind Freddy could see you.’
He told Dove about Phipps. ‘Makes a ringing sound to me.’
‘So I should…’
‘See the minister tomorrow,’ said Villani. ‘Ask for an appointment as a matter of urgency.’
‘Is that me or…?’
‘Want to do it? You and Winter?’
Dove didn’t look at him. ‘Not especially, boss.’
‘Okay. Me and you. And on Preston, you want everything run against Prosilio.’
‘Done that. Given that instruction.’
They drove in silence.
‘I’m beginning to see the outline of the job now,’ said Dove. ‘Boss.’
‘This job or the whole job?’
‘Whole job. The full horror.’
‘Beginning of wisdom,’ said Villani. ‘Still time to make a run for it. Why’d you become a cop?’
‘To spite my father,’ said Dove. ‘He hated cops.’
‘That’s a good spite,’ said Villani. ‘That’d hurt him. I’m going to Avoca Street. Know where that is?’
‘Is that Highett, Yarraville or Brunswick?’
‘Let’s try South Yarra, please. Go down Punt.’
Crossing the Yarra, Villani said, ‘Why’d your dad hate cops?’
‘Bashed by cops,’ said Dove. ‘In Sydney. A number of times.’
‘Why’s that?’
Dove looked at him, dark eyes. ‘Same colour as me. The wrong colour.’
‘He forgiven you?’ said Villani. ‘I wouldn’t forgive you.’
‘He thinks being shot’s my punishment,’ said Dove. ‘He thinks we all get punished for our sins. In time.’
‘He may well be right,’ said Villani. ‘And my time is now.’
AT THE end of the night, a sound from the street woke him, rubber shriek, a hoon, they were naked, sheet thrown aside, a light from the unclad window lay upon them. She was on her spine, face to him, denied by a page of hair, her hands folded at her throat, her hipbones jutting, the dark in her delta.
Sleep gone, a new day but the old day in his mouth-old day, old week, month, year, life. A middle-aged man with no address, his possessions in the boot of his car.
Villani slid from the bed, stood, moved to collect his clothes.
Anna stirred, turned onto her right side.
In the weak soiled light, he waited until she had settled, looking at the sweet line of her body, a sadness in him, he went silently to the bathroom, showered in the big slate stall, thought about his feelings for her, the stupidity of it, the pleasure of being with her, talking to her, the looks she gave him. He had not been looked at that way since the first months with Laurie.
I’m in love with her.
In words. Stupid childish thought. He shook his head and shuddered as if that could dispel it.
At some point in the night, body cooling, eyes on the ceiling, the curtains were open and lights from outside played on it, he said, ‘The men in your life.’
A long silence.
She said, ‘The men, the men, oh Lord, where should I start? With my dad?’
‘Only the good memories, please. No abuse. That’s reportable.’
Her right arm across him, her mouth close, he felt her breath. ‘Bastard. Why do you want to know?’
He knew what she was asking. He had no true answer.
‘As a cop,’ he said, ‘I have a need to know.’
‘Well, I confess to not a lot of luck with men,’ she said.
‘What’s luck look like?’
‘Your older brother and father combined. But not related to you.’ She brushed his throat with open lips.
‘This is hard,’ he said. ‘We can try the photofits, the DNA, might turn someone up.’
Anna bit his shoulder, soft cat-bite.
‘So in the absence of cloning your family,’ said Villani.
She shifted, turned, arranged herself, head on his chest.
‘A mixed bag,’ she said. ‘The longest, a uni professor, estranged from beautiful wife, I was led to believe. I wanted to believe, I was twenty-one, I had a strong moral sense then. Six years, on and off, I was such an unbelievable dickhead. Then he left for the States, his new PhD candidate in the luggage.’
Pause. ‘You don’t really want to know this stuff, do you?’
‘I asked.’
‘What happens when I ask you?’ ‘Wife, three kids.’