The Tattooed Man (30 page)

‘I can’t prove the connections,’ Harrigan said. ‘I gave the evidence away.’

‘You didn’t have a choice.’

‘You found him anyway, Grace.’

‘That was pure luck. There’s something else that’s important. Brinsmead has a connection with Beck and this du Plessis. He was in the Congo with them—that’s where he got his burns. They were involved

in diamond smuggling. Also, Sam Jonas isn’t her real name. It’s Sophia something. Whatever they’re doing, it’s serious.’

‘Do you think they’re legitimate?’

‘From the sounds of it, yes. Legitimate and ruthless.’

‘Ruthless enough to shoot dead a senior policeman?’ Harrigan asked.

‘Marvin? Why?’

‘If their target is Elena Calvo, then he was her ears and eyes in the police. It makes operational sense.’

‘They couldn’t do that. If he was an obstacle, they’d organise for someone to tap him discreetly on the shoulder. But that does mean somebody in authority would have to know they were here.’

‘We do have some intelligence that an agency like the one you describe has been on Beck’s tail in the past. Who knows about this?’

‘You and me.’

‘Grace, how did you get this kind of information?’ he asked. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but how do I know it’s reliable?’

Toby stirred. A nurse arrived.

‘I have to check on him,’ she said.

They stepped outside into the corridor.

‘What did you do?’ Harrigan asked.

‘You’d call it illegal entry. Brinsmead wanted to see me at his flat. He wanted to talk about his burns, how he got them. He said he wanted me to understand him.’

‘He took a shine to you.’

Grace shrugged. ‘It was all harmless enough. While I was there, I got hold of a key. After he left to go to LPS, I went back in. I was snooping when Sam Jonas turned up and he came back. Brinsmead was
conducting some kind of experiment in his flat and she’d come to clean it up. I think that experiment was to find out what Beck was really doing. I hid in a wardrobe and heard everything they said to each other. They talked about their operation, the instructions they had, how they had to report back. Sam came over as a professional, focused agent. She’s the type; I’ve met people like her before. It’s why she’s so in your face when she talks to you. Everything she does is undercover. That world’s not normal. It’s got very strange reference points. There’s almost no law to control you and nothing’s what it seems. It’s very easy to lose perspective.’

‘Then what would she have done if she’d found you? Grace, you were putting yourself in danger again. When are you going to stop doing that? One day it’s going to backfire on you.’

‘If I hadn’t done it, Toby would still be in that parking station.’

He was stopped. He looked from her to Toby and back to her. This was no place to argue.

‘You’re the fault lines in my life, the two of you,’ he said quietly. ‘You don’t know the things you put me through.’

‘What does that mean? You wish we weren’t? You wish I hadn’t done what I did?’

‘No, it doesn’t mean that. It means the opposite.’

Before Harrigan could say anything more, his phone rang.

‘Yes, as soon as I can. You can tell the commissioner that Toby’s going to be okay. Thanks.’ He put the phone away. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ve got work to do.’

‘You always do,’ she said.

He looked in at Toby through the glass before he answered her. The nurse came out.

‘He’s comfortable,’ she said.

Harrigan nodded to her and went back inside to look at Toby one last time. Gently, he moved some of his son’s hair that had fallen across his forehead. Then he walked back to Grace.

‘He’s very attached to you,’ he said.

‘I like him. He knows what it means to be attached to you.’

‘Is it really that bad?’

‘Sometimes. When do we see each other again?’

‘I’ve got a briefing with the AFP first thing tomorrow morning on where the case is. The assassination of federal government ministers is their responsibility,’ he said dryly. ‘I’ve still managed to convince everyone the best way to solve this is by keeping the Pittwater investigation on track. After that, as soon as I can get some time I want to see you. I’ll call you.’

‘Why can’t we see each other tonight when you’re finished?’

‘Now that you’ve given me this information, I’ve got to think about how it fits in. I have to act on it. I need some head space to work that out. But I will call you.’

They held on to each other again. He didn’t seem to want to let her go and then did. Then he was gone.

‘I guess you will,’ Grace said to herself, watching him disappear down the corridor.

Very shortly afterwards, two uniformed police appeared, heading towards her. Time to be economical with the truth, she thought, preparing to meet them.

I
t was late by the time Harrigan got back to Birchgrove for the night, and later still when he went to bed having spent some time thinking the case through over a glass of whisky. When he woke in the morning, it was early. He felt unexpectedly refreshed from a short sleep. He took a little time to prepare for the day. There was a phone call he had to make; a course of action he had agreed on with Trevor the previous night. He dialled the number, certain there would be an answer even at this early hour.

‘Elena Calvo.’

‘Good morning, Dr Calvo. I didn’t think you’d mind me ringing you so early. You struck me as the type to be at your desk first thing. How are you today?’

‘Are you making this call in an official capacity?’

‘No, I’d see this as a personal call. A very personal and confidential call.’

‘I can think of no reason why you would have anything personal or confidential to discuss with me.’

‘I thought you’d like to know we’ve found my son and he’s alive.’

‘I’m very pleased to hear it on your behalf, but it has nothing to do with me.’

‘I think it does. I’ll get straight to the point. I think you should make some time to see me, Dr Calvo. Because how long do you think it’s going to take us to find du Plessis?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she said.

‘Whatever you do, whatever strings you pull, whatever money you throw at it, we’re going to get to him sooner or later,’ Harrigan continued. ‘Do you want to know how many people are out there looking for him right now? He can’t leave the country. All the exits are blocked. Do you think he’s going to keep his mouth shut when we do get him? We can send him back to South Africa any time we want to. He’s looking at a lifetime in gaol over there. He’s probably got a lot of enemies waiting to get their hands on him back home. I don’t think they’ll be very gentle when they do get hold of him. Those are prospects that might make him very talkative.’

‘I don’t understand why you’re saying such things to me,’ she replied. ‘I asked you a number of days ago if you wanted us to undertake scientific research into your son’s physical condition. You said you needed time to make up your mind. I can see you in relation to that. That would make sense to me.’

‘Then let’s get together. I’m busy most of the day. I can see you later on this afternoon. You can come to me this time.’

‘We can compromise,’ she said, almost with sarcasm. ‘We have a city office in the Australia Square building. I’ll be here until this evening. You can find the address in the phone book. Come to the entrance to the car park. Someone will meet you.’

They hung up on each other almost simultaneously. Harrigan felt detached; it was a relief. Revenge was not part of the strategy he and Trevor had put together last night but it was still in his mind. He had never had so much desire to exact it as he did now.

When Harrigan drove into the police headquarters car park for his meeting, Chloe was waiting for him.

‘Does the commissioner want to see me?’ he asked.

‘No, no,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something for you.’

She handed him a cassette tape. He looked it over.

‘Sharon gave that to me yesterday evening. Apparently, the special assistant commissioner requested it go to the commissioner in the event of anything happening to him. It’s a recording of a recent phone conversation between the two of you.’

‘Did she listen to it?’ he asked.

‘She says no. I haven’t listened to it either. I’m not quite sure why the commissioner would need to be concerned with it. I thought you’d be the best person to decide whether he does or not.’

‘Thanks,’ Harrigan said.

‘You’re welcome. They’re waiting for you upstairs,’ she said, raising her carefully waxed eyebrows at him before walking away.

Harrigan locked the tape in his briefcase and made his way to the briefing room feeling like a liar and a thief. He accepted people’s congratulations for his son’s safety like the hypocrite he was, barely able to thank them in return. His people put his mood down to relief and exhaustion. They were generous; it galled him.

Officers from the federal police arrived. Two men and a woman, dressed in what seemed almost identical grey suits. They sat together at the back of
the room. Their boss, Kevin Parkin, was a thin-faced man in his early fifties, his hair slicked forward to hide a bald spot. They carried nothing other than their notepads and, in the hand of the woman, an audio recording device. Supposedly they were part of a cooperative investigation, but even in his meeting with them last night, Harrigan had felt them drawing a fence around themselves.

The second guest was an inspector from the task force set up to investigate Marvin’s assassination. Meredith O’Connor arrived in what looked like full dress uniform, her hair and make-up immaculate. Approaching retirement, she’d been around for more than thirty years, a biography that suggested impressive survival skills. Experience had taught Harrigan she was a dogged worker and a rigid thinker.

Trevor did the introductions to a group of weary people in a room that smelt of takeaway food and coffee. Harrigan stood to the side, leaving it to his 2IC to run the show.

‘Meredith doesn’t have a great deal of time,’ Trevor said. ‘I’m going to ask her to quickly go through what we know about Marvin’s shooting and then let her go. But before we start, some news.’

There was a laptop computer on the table. Trevor hit a key and the first page of the dossier appeared on the screen behind him.

‘This hit the net at seven this morning. It’s Edwards’ copy of the dossier. He left instructions that if anything happened to him, this was to be posted on the net as soon as possible. His staff did just that and there’s no taking it back. Anyone can download it whenever they want to and I’m sure they already have. I’m waiting for the agency who owns it to come pounding on our door. At least
Edwards was responsible: his staff blacked out any names that might identify any innocent parties.’

‘There wasn’t much information of that nature in there, Trev,’ Ralph called. ‘There were no agents’ names.’

‘He also had this put online,’ Trevor went on. ‘Most of you have read it already. It’s a digital copy of an affidavit he swore that says he was bribed to get Beck into the country. He accuses one person in particular, a very well-known entrepreneur. If we weren’t all so cynical to start with, the name might surprise us. Apparently there are already enraged denials out there in cyberspace. Lucky you can’t sue the dead. Now, Meredith. Can you tell us what you know about Marvin’s shooting?’

‘I’d like to ask the commander a question about Marvin Tooth first,’ Parkin called from the back of the room. ‘You’ve stated that he called you back to confess to you that he had been under duress to sabotage this investigation. He did this because he was shocked by the deaths caused by yesterday’s bombings and now wanted to help identify who was responsible. Is that correct?’

‘So he said,’ Harrigan replied.

‘That’s quite a confession given what had just happened. Implicating himself in the murders of a government minister and his adviser is no small thing.’

‘I don’t believe that was his motive at all, whatever he may have told the commander here.’ Meredith interrupted with her usual brusqueness. ‘My own judgement is that he realised his position was becoming untenable. He must have known it was only a matter of time and was seeking to justify himself.’

Thank you, Meredith, Harrigan thought. She had moved forward, taking over the laptop and
projecting a map of the streets surrounding police headquarters onto the screen.

‘The initial findings are that the special assistant commissioner was shot by a high-powered rifle from vacant office space on the fourth floor of this building here, on the eastern side of the street that our building backs on to,’ she said. ‘We have no sightings of the killer and obviously no descriptions.’

‘How could they know their target was going to be there?’ Parkin asked.

‘They couldn’t. Our consensus is, this was an opportunistic shooting. That building has a public gymnasium on the top floor. Anyone in a tracksuit, either in the elevator or on the fire stairs, carrying a sports bag perhaps, would attract no attention at all. One of our team has argued, convincingly, I think, that the special assistant commissioner was possibly being cased for assassination. His controllers may have considered he was becoming a danger to them, as indeed he was. That building overlooks the entrance to our building’s garage where his entrance and exit could be watched. There’s also a line of coffee shops at street level that everyone here uses. But then, all of a sudden yesterday, the special assistant commissioner is out there on the street and he’s the perfect target. They took their chance when they could.’

‘Bye, bye, Fang,’ Ralph muttered.

‘I think this also solves the question of how vital evidence—a contract, I believe—was stolen from the evidence room,’ Meredith said. ‘It seems almost certain that the special assistant commissioner was responsible.’

‘Can you tell us anything about how they blackmailed him?’ Trevor asked.

‘We won’t be able to answer that question until we’ve finished searching his office and house. Those searches are happening now. If that’s all you need me for, I’ll leave it there in case some information does come through.’

‘That’s fine, Meredith. Thanks for being here.’

She left the room. There was a stir among those remaining. A sense of distaste and betrayal was written on people’s faces. Harrigan wondered what they would think of him if they knew that he’d handed over evidence in a way no different from Marvin. They’d see its uselessness; he could have said no to Toby’s kidnapper and still got his son back. Either way he would lose their respect.

‘Kevin,’ Trevor was saying. ‘What can you tell us about the minister’s death?’

Parkin got to his feet but didn’t walk to the front of the room, forcing those present to turn and look at him. ‘We know where the bomb was,’ he said. ‘In his adviser’s laptop. It was detonated when the adviser and Edwards were talking together at the front entrance. They were both killed instantly. The driver survived but he’s critical. As we all know, the blast also killed one of the guards at the door.’

‘When was the bomb planted?’ Harrigan asked.

‘We haven’t narrowed down any times as yet. According to Edwards’ PA, the senator’s adviser always took the laptop home with him. He rents a house in Summer Hill and he’s frequently out in the evenings. Our bomber would have had the fairly simple task of breaking into a not very secure house and doing a fairly straightforward job. In my opinion, the adviser was careless. He should have kept the laptop in more secure storage.’

‘In other words, Edwards could have been singled out for assassination some days ago?’

‘It’s possible.’

‘How was the bomb detonated?’

‘It was almost certainly a timing device triggered by a mobile telephone call. I would speculate that the bomber was watching Edwards and his adviser leave his electorate office, which is at Ashfield, for police headquarters. That way he could be sure they were travelling together. He would have followed them for some distance and then started the countdown. The bomb must have been intended to explode where it did. There was ample opportunity beforehand to detonate it almost anywhere else.’

‘Marvin didn’t want you to go down to that front door by yourself, boss,’ Trevor said. ‘He asked you to take me along as well.’

‘Could he have known?’ Parkin asked sharply.

‘Of course he fucking knew!’ Frankie retorted softly, looking away.

Again there was a stir of anger throughout the room. ‘Pity they didn’t shoot him earlier,’ Harrigan heard someone mutter. ‘Dog!’ someone else said. With a nod to Trevor, Harrigan moved forward to shut down the mood as quickly as possible.

‘Okay, let’s stand back from what we know,’ he said. ‘In my opinion, there’s no chance that having detonated a bomb at our front door, the bomber would wait around to watch what happened next. Whoever the bomber is, he didn’t kill Marvin. He wouldn’t have had the time. Also, Meredith’s scenario means that someone was already in position, spying out the land.’

‘What are you suggesting?’ Parkin asked. ‘Two dirty tricks men?’

‘Before I make any judgements on that, I want to hear what the task force has turned over in relation to what happened at Pittwater. Okay, thanks for
that, Kevin. Trevor. Where are you taking us from here?’

‘Jacquie, you’re on,’ Trevor said. ‘Dazzle us.’

Parkin sat down. Jacquie, young, new to the squad and ambitious, was proving herself. She began by projecting a photograph of the murder scene onto the screen. The dead sat at the table, waiting for nothing. Harrigan glanced quickly at his federal counterparts. They were poker-faced.

‘We were asked to reconstruct the murder scene,’ Jacquie said. ‘Okay, so what’s the key to this picture? They’re at dinner. How did that meal get there? One of the neighbours told us that a van from Sweet Delights Catering at Mona Vale drove up to the gates at about 8.10 the night of the murders. No one got out so we have no descriptions. The gates are automatic. They were opened for the van, it drove in and then the gates were closed again. Our neighbour didn’t see the van leave, but a man walking his dog saw it on its way down the hill just after nine. So the killings took up to fifty minutes maximum.’

‘Could this man see into the van?’ Harrigan asked.

‘No. The windscreen was reflective. He could see his own face but not who was inside. He didn’t look at the number plate. We went to Sweet Delights. It turns out that someone claiming to be Natalie Edwards’ private secretary—she does have one—’

‘Was it a woman or man?’ Harrigan asked.

‘A woman.’

‘What did her voice sound like? Any accents, anything unusual?’

‘Nothing they noticed. She rang and cancelled the arrangements Natalie Edwards had made two hours before they were due to deliver the meal. They did
what they always do when that happens: they put the charge through on her credit card. The van the neighbour saw arrived exactly when it was supposed to. She’d asked for an evening supper. Our murderers not only knew about Natalie Edwards’ arrangements; they impersonated the caterers to get into the house and went to some trouble to do it. But taking you back to this picture. What’s on the table? A meal. The killer, or killers, whichever, must have brought this food with them. Our murderers catered a meal they knew their victims were never going to eat. Why?’