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End It With A Lie

Page 65

by Peter M. Atkins

Thursday 11.47am 

  Ben Preston rolled over in his bed and stared at his bedside clock. He wondered if his oversleeping could be based solely on the sleeping pill he’d prompted himself the night before.

  He still felt tired as he pushed himself to the side of his bed. Deciding then, that maybe the cascade of events during this very long week, had finally built up to a point where a reminder of his age was unavoidable.

  The calendar picture of an ocean view gazed down at him from its place on the wall. As if to suggest that the early retirement option mentioned by the department’s Medical Officer might after all be a good choice. He thought about it as he came to the conclusion, that if he was to put a voluntary end to his career, then the events of this past week would certainly make that end a memorable one.

  “Early days yet,” He mumbled as he rose from the side of the bed. After visiting his bathroom, he walked to the kitchen where he pressed a button on an old electric kettle. Then as he waited for it to boil he moved to his lounge room and picked up his television’s remote control.

  A glance at his watch told him that the midday news would have started on the A.B.C. So he changed channels and caught part of the stations opening story.

  “…the Federal Police Commissioner also stated, that while the terrorist’s weapon of mass destruction had been captured and destroyed, the threat of future attacks could not be ignored. He called on the Government to make funds available to improve the capacity of the countries Police and Emergency Services.”

  “While he commended the Police and the Emergency Services in the field, congratulating them on their capable and well drilled precision in dealing with an extraordinary situation. He pointed out that there was still work to be done in some areas of the essential services bureaucracy and communications. The Commissioner said that while a disaster had been averted, there was still room for improvement. If the threat had done nothing else, it had been exceptional value as a training exercise.”

  “At the press conference the Commissioner was also asked if the fatal shooting of a Federal Police officer on Wednesday was related to the terrorist weapon. Here’s what he had to say.”

  As Ben concentrated on the screen he hoped the news hounds had not been too inquisitive. Any questions as to why the suspect in the outback murders, was in the building that housed the Sarah Ray foundation might cause complications.

  “It won’t take long,” he thought aloud, “Someone’s bound to make a connection.”

  The news reader disappeared and was immediately replaced by a taped version of his Boss, who spoke quietly and respectfully.

  “No. The fatal shooting of one of our officers was in no way connected to the wooden box affair. It happened as two Federal Police officers carried out their duty and tried to arrest an individual who was attempting to abduct two women. The two officers confronted the man who was armed with a high powered weapon as he tried to make good his escape. Unfortunately, his cowardly attack has cost the community a well-liked, respected detective, friend and family man. He will be missed and remembered.”

  The news reader reappeared and continued on with the story. “The officer’s name was Rodney Anderson, and his funeral will be held on Tuesday. He leaves behind a wife and two daughters.”

  Ben noted the day of the funeral as he lifted the volume, then turned to walk toward the kitchen and breakfast. He’d taken a step when suddenly the next item caused him to focus his attention once more on the screen.

  “Gangster and leading underworld figure Tom Lee was found dead in the early hours of this morning at the rear of his Kings Cross club. According to police, Lee was shot dead by one of his gangland employees Dan Sanic. Sanic was also fatally injured during an apparent altercation between the two men. Lee, reputed to be one of the areas drug lords, remained elusive for nearly two decades from criminal prosecution due to lack of evidence and disappearing witnesses. A police spokesman told reporters that Lee had been under constant investigation, and that a recent telephone surveillance operation had uncovered conversations between his wife Sally Lee, and Lee’s employee Dan Sanic which suggested an alliance. Sally Lee has since been arrested and charged, as a conspirator in the murder of her husband. The discovery of Lee’s body was made just a day after water police found the body of another man in the Parramatta River. A police spokesperson told reporters that the man known only as Louie was an employee of Tom Lee. Investigations are still at an early stage, but it appears that the man was shot dead execution style. Authorities also stated that the man’s death could not be discounted as a further escalation in Sydney’s drug turf wars.”

  Ben was taken aback by the news of Lee’s death.

  Glad on the one hand that Lee had finally been taken down, but disappointed that Lee had not been ridiculed by arrest, before he ended his days behind bars.

  He made tea, and as he sipped its heat he picked up his telephone and dialled.

  “Miss Cooper? It’s Ben Preston. I’m sure that you were asked to give a statement after the shooting. I need to know if you explained what you thought was the reason behind Horton’s presence in your building?”

  “I asked if I might be allowed to give my statement on the day following the shooting because of my shock at what had happened. Then overnight Lynnette suggested that in the best interests of the Foundation, we should just state that Horton demanded the opals that he believed had been stolen from him.”

  “Opals, what opals?” Ben asked.

  “Simon uncovered a lot of opals when he was driving a bulldozer near Lightning Ridge. He gave them to me to use as base capital in getting the Foundation operational.”

  “Have you given the statement yet?”

  “No. No one from the authorities has visited us as yet. I expect that everyone has been busy with the other things that have been going on.” She paused for some seconds before she changed the course of the conversation, “Do you think that, that terrible man Horton will be the last one to die because of what Simon did?”

  Ben considered Horton, the fifth person who was connected to the Foundations fortune and killed, without including Lee or Scott. He tried to choose his words carefully as he finally broke his silence.

  “Miss Cooper. I think that if I’d been directly involved in an official investigation of the whole affair from its beginning, I would have considered the case closed at the time of Horton’s death. I’m sure that anyone else who had an outside interest in the foundation’s wealth is beyond caring now.” He paused as he realized his failure in bedside manner, “I’m sorry. I would like to have sounded a little less blunt.”

  “No. Please don’t apologize. I think that the one thing that both accountants and detectives have in common, is that they expect direct answers. It’s a basic necessity, as with direct questions. I suppose the answer I was hoping for would be one that allowed me to concentrate on the Foundation’s business without fear of more criminals turning up in the future. Thank you for giving me some peace of mind.” She paused for a moment, and then again steered the conversation, “I’m sorry I seem to have interrupted your line of questioning. The statement, what should I do?”

  “I think the best thing to do now, is for me to collect one of my people and meet with you as soon as possible to get your statements recorded. How about I meet you in about an hour and a half’s time?”

  “Both of us? I mean, Lynette too?” Beth asked.

  “Yes, we’ll need statements from the two of you. In the meantime, if anyone else approaches you for your statement refer them to me, O.K? Good, I’ll see you around two o’clock.”

  Ben sat and pondered the theme for his meeting with Cooper. The address book that had belonged to Simon West would provide an innocent connection between the Sarah Ray Foundation and the outback murders, he thought. It, along with the opal story would most certainly prevent further police enquiries, and deter the newshounds from delving deeper.

  “In other news,” the news reader continued, “A Br
itish national thought to be a tourist has been found shot dead and mutilated in the Syrian capital Damascus. The man, according to local authorities had been in the country for some weeks, and was last seen alive by staff as he left his hotel supposedly en-route to Britain. Enquiries are continuing and the man’s name has not been released.”

  Ben turned off the television, and as he dialled his telephone he wondered why people were stupid enough to go to the volatile Middle East for holidays. “Allan, can you meet me at Beth Cooper’s office at two o’clock?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Allan replied before he asked, “Sir, I thought you were on compassionate leave for a few days?”

  “That’s right. Orders from above are that I take a week’s leave along with some counseling. It has to wait though. There’s a loose end that needs to be tidied,” he explained before directing, “Allan, in the top right hand drawer of my office desk, there’s a small yellow address book in an evidence bag. Get it and bring it with you, will you? By the time you knock off work this afternoon, we’ll be able to consider the outback murders as solved, our early intervention in the John Kane affair as exemplary police work, and the Tom Lee investigation as an acceptable outcome.”

  “I thought we could consider that to be the case already, Sir.”

  “Not yet Allan. Not even when we’ve tied the loose ends at Cooper’s office. We’ll consider it done when we meet on Tuesday and farewell the third member of our team.”

  Allan understood.

  “Yes, Sir. I think that that is fitting.”

  Both men remained silent in respect for their friend until Ben said.

  “See you at Cooper’s.”

  CHAPTER 27

 

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