Blood Ties (59 page)

“But I
am
responsible,” he insisted, his eyes shifting between us compulsively. His lawyer laid a wary hand on his arm that Graham immediately shook free.

Xavier looked over at me. “What do you think, Senior Constable?”

I shook my head derisively. “Nah. He’s not smart enough. He can’t even tell the difference between an accelerator and a brake. Let’s go interview Stanley.”

We both stood up as if to leave.

Graham began to talk, trying to convince us that he was the criminal mastermind behind the swindle. His lawyer warned him to remain quiet, but he no longer wanted to and rudely told the man to shut up. It was as if a lifetime of being derided as hopeless and stupid swelled up uncontrollably inside him, no longer able to be contained, his strong need to prove himself overcoming his natural caution.

The interview started again formally and I sat back not asking any questions because of my conflict of interest, leaving it all to Xavier. When Xavier asked beforehand, Graham’s lawyer waved his hand to indicate that he had no objections to me remaining in the room during the interview even though I’d eventually be a witness for the prosecution in his client’s trial. Being smart though, Xavier made him say it in the recording. I smiled at him in appreciation. I liked a careful partner. He smiled back with appealing charm. I smiled again. I liked a cute partner even more.

Everything spilled out of Graham in a tumble. He’d taken advantage of his Uncle Stanley’s illness to defraud Miss G, even admitting that he’d been considering it for years. After long, boring searches at the Titles Office for another client, he’d discovered that there were huge tracts of land owned by the Greville family around Little Town that were unknown to anyone, because when they were originally purchased, they’d been registered under the name Gravel, not Greville.

As someone who’d dabbled in family history research, I knew that transcription errors were common in the early days of the country because of varying levels of literacy and different accents in those providing the information and those recording it. What was surprising though was that throughout the generations nobody except Graham had cottoned onto these errors. Everyone had assumed that the empty paddocks in town, that in reality belonged to the Grevilles, were already government land, including the later Grevilles themselves. I suspected that Miss G’s father, drunken old Mr Greville, had been more than careless with family documents and probably the proof of their ownership had been buried in other paperwork over the years, if not destroyed.
Someone really should go through all those boxes of documents in Miss G’s library
, I thought, but I sure wasn’t going to volunteer.

Graham admitted to desperately peeking on Miss G in the hopes of getting his hands on the title to that block of land on Mountain Road. He’d negotiated up to selling point with the Department of Defence on behalf of Traumleben Pty Ltd, but without the legal means to make the sale an actuality. He repeated his story about having a massive temper tantrum when he couldn’t find the title, trashing Miss G’s lounge room in the process, but his voice held no shame at all this time. In fact he giggled stupidly, proud of himself, while he told us. I stiffened in anger, about to say something cutting, only to feel Xavier’s fingers tapping my hand under the table. I gave him an imperceptible nod, appreciating the warning not to speak.

Graham continued his stream of confessions. He admitted to wanting to get his hands on Miss G’s diaries, having heard her discuss them with Uncle Stanley on a number of occasions. He then admitted peeking on Mrs Villiers as a red herring and to leaving the footprints under her window to be obvious about it, bragging this time that it was his idea, not Uncle Stanley’s as he’d previously told the Sarge and me. He also confessed to finding the suitcase of money in Miss G’s garden shed where he’d hidden on the first Friday night I’d turned up to search her yard. He could hardly believe his good luck, he smirked. I shook my head in disgust at his greed. Finding a cool hundred grand would have been enough for most people. Not Graham though. He’d stashed the suitcase himself in the rickety shelter where it had later been found by Valmae Kilroy on the vacant ‘government’ land that, he admitted, was in fact even more unknown Greville land.

He further owned up to the safe-cracking in our office, after watching in frustration as Valmae removed his stash, showing his first streak of real emotion in the whole interview by expressing the deep aggravation he’d felt when he discovered that the safe was empty. He admitted to spying on me, hoping that I had either the money or the diaries at my home. Finally, he admitted to setting up Traumleben Pty Ltd using his incapacitated father as a front. He boasted the whole time he confessed, particularly about fooling the Sarge and me with his naive nephew act. I squirmed with discomfort as Xavier gallantly tried to gloss over that failure in the recorded interview.

When Graham had finished talking, exhausted, and had been taken back to the holding cell, Xavier and I congratulated ourselves on the successful interview.

“I’d be happy to partner with you any day, Tess,” he said. “You should think about ditching the uniform for the glamorous life of being a Wattling Bay detective. I’m sure the Inspector would take you in a flash.”

I knew she would because she’d offered before, but at that moment I noticed the Sarge waiting for me, sitting patiently among the hustle and noise of the watch house, checking his text messages. He glanced up expectantly, shoving his phone into his pocket as we came out and jumped to his feet. I gave him two thumbs up and he gave me a lovely, sincerely pleased smile in response. I looked up at Xavier and not without a lot of regret, I’ll be honest.

“Thanks anyway, Mr X, but I think I’ll stay with my little town for a bit longer. I have a new partner to break in and he’s going to keep me busy for a while.”

“Shame,” he said, smiling. “I think we could have a lot of fun together, Tess.” His expression as he said that made me think he wasn’t only talking about work. I appreciated the compliment, considering how awful I looked at the moment. In return, I smiled back at him and without another word, abandoned him for the Sarge.

“Let’s turn off our phones and get the hell out of this place,” he suggested.

It sounded like a great idea to me, but the Inspector arrived in a storm of anger just as we were leaving, everyone nearby dodging and ducking to avoid her attention. She honed in on the Sarge and me straight away. When I dared to ask her if they’d had any luck recapturing Red, she shook her head in frustration and assured me it would only be a matter of time before he was tracked down. But she said it in such a tone that I felt sorry for everyone involved in the pursuit who hadn’t delivered a hogtied Red to her office that afternoon. And on a personal note, I wouldn’t be able to rest easy until he was behind bars again. There was general consensus that he was the one Bycraft we’d all prefer to be safely locked away. He was crafty, enterprising, dangerous and recklessly bold. Just like his ancestor, Mountain Ted.

Fiona wanted me to stay to be interviewed over the court incident, but I’d really had enough for one day and wanted nothing more than to go home. Promising her that I’d return tomorrow to be interviewed, the Sarge and I escaped back to Little Town.

In the car, I glanced at him with heartfelt gratitude and admiration. He’d risen in my estimation by immeasurable amounts today. “That was great thinking to ring me on my phone, Sarge. It gave me the distraction I needed to escape. Impressive teamwork.” I was a little teary as I said that, thinking of what might have been. Blinking furiously, I shifted my eyes to the window, barely taking in the bland view of endless paddocks.

He reached over to pat my hand, not missing the emotion in my voice. “You’re the smart one though, for pretending the call was from Jake. And to hand the phone to Red Bycraft. That was even better thinking, Tess. It made him relax his guard. And I agree with what you said. Impressive teamwork today.”

I pulled a self-deprecating face. “Not so impressive though when you think about how easily Graham Mundy fooled us.”

“True,” he admitted. “But he’s an interesting mix of big criminal thinking and frightened, awkward personality. I’m still struggling to imagine him as a criminal mastermind. Look how easy it was for you and X to manipulate him into confessing. That’s not a mature mind.”

When we returned to the station, I followed the Sarge, wearily limping up the stairs, my only thought to take as many painkillers as the doctor allowed. But when I reached the door of the back room, I stopped in absolute shock. Sitting proudly on top of each of our desks was a brand new, shiny, latest model computer, the ancient printer replaced with a new combined printer/photocopier/scanner. I turned to him, my eyes wide with amazement, mouth even wider, to find him gazing at me, arms crossed, with a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

“Sarge! Where did these come from? How did you manage to get them? Where did you find the money?” I asked breathlessly, sitting down in front of mine and running my hands over it lovingly before turning it on. It loaded up instantaneously.

“A word in the right ear can make all the difference,” he replied enigmatically.

I spent a happy half-hour playing with my new computer, and then, even though I was exhausted, did some real work, knocking off a few reports, shortening my ‘to do’ list. I watched in awe as the paper glided obediently and silently from the new printer. It was becoming dark when I decided I’d done enough for the day, pushing back my chair and stretching painfully.

“I suppose I’ll be back in court next week for the committal hearings for the new charges against the three Bycrafts and for Graham as well,” I complained. “I barely get to spend any time in Little Town anymore. They should have a mobile courtroom that comes here every week, just for me.”

He smiled at that. “Never mind. Perhaps we’ll head into a quiet patch in town for a while.”

I snorted in disbelief. “There’s a whole town full of Bycrafts out there just looking for mischief, Sarge.”

“Tess . . .” he began, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Things have been very stressful since I arrived and I don’t feel as though we got off to a good start together.”

I gazed at him questioningly. I didn’t think we had either. Especially when our relationship had begun with me trying to arrest him.

“It’s Friday night and you’ve had a hell of a week and a real shit of a day. I’d like to cook you dinner. It’s not much of a consolation but . . .” He petered out, fidgeting uncomfortably, regarding me with something I thought was akin to hope. I think he was as nervous as he would be asking a woman out for the first time on a date, waiting for her answer.

But I was so surprised, I didn’t know what to say. My brain wasn’t giving any useful instructions to my mouth. I stared at him, silent.

He took that as rejection and turned away. “You’re probably busy anyway. Maybe another time?”

My brain finally kicked into gear. Jake was working, Dad had his girlfriend visiting tonight, Gretel was busy, Fiona was busy, Abe was busy and I had no other plans. I would only sit at home lounging in front of the TV or even worse, dutifully practicing the guitar. I remembered how much he’d helped me when I was being dragged by the car and that tormented expression on his face at the courthouse when we both thought I was going to die.

And then I considered that maybe he was a little lonely, stuck in this tiny town with no friends and nothing much to do. Perhaps he didn’t want to spend Friday night alone and I was the only person in town he knew well enough to invite over, even if our relationship was somewhat strained. Maybe this was his way of offering an olive branch? His way of cracking that thick ice sheet some more? And maybe he’d prefer to have a good working relationship with his partner every bit as much as I would?

I was suddenly ashamed that I hadn’t been more friendly and welcoming to him. Or even more understanding of his stiff, frosty manner. It couldn’t be easy moving to a small town, far from your fiancee, family and friends, only to find yourself partnered with someone with all the personal difficulties I had. Not to mention a town full of Bycrafts.

“I’m not busy,” I replied, finding my tongue at last, determined to be less judgemental about him and more patient in the future. “And that would be really nice, Sarge. Thanks so much.”

He seemed remarkably pleased with my acceptance of his invitation, unable to control the smile that spread across his face and lit up his eyes, and I knew I’d done the right thing. But all he said was a cool, “Great.”

“Provided that you can cook, of course?” I added teasingly.

“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he smiled again.
He really had a nice smile when he chose to show it
, I thought yet again. It completely transformed his face.

“I’m going home to shower and change. I’ll see you up at your place later. And there better be some very nice wine involved,” I threw to him over my shoulder, heading for the door. I was excited at the prospect of a dinner that I didn’t have to cook myself.

He was busy flicking through his paperwork, his tone casual. “There will be a glass of a talented red for you, I promise. Any time is good for me. See you then.”

Dad’s girlfriend, Adele, was staying over at our place that night and I think they were both relieved when I told them that I was going out, looking forward to spending more time alone together. I sat with them for a while, sharing the day’s events. Both of them fussed gratifyingly over my new injuries, before I left them to take a shower and dress for dinner.