The Final Cut

by Robert Jeffreys

  Spencer looked at her notes. ‘You don’t have any records of her being assaulted?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’s a crime,’ Spencer insisted.

  ‘Is it? I’ll make a note of that.’ The smile was glued on.

  Spencer wasn’t getting anywhere, after all. ‘Thank you, Sergeant Christie.’

  ‘Don’t take it personally,’ Christie said, still smiling.

  ‘It’s hard not to.’

  ***

  Cardilini was leaning in the shade of the building, smoking. Spencer told him what had just happened.

  ‘Okay. We’re going to have a chat with Cooper, in that case.’ He dropped his cigarette and headed back inside. He called out as he strode purposefully past reception, ‘Don’t think I couldn’t jump that bloody counter and put you flat on your fat backside, Christie!’

  ‘Anytime, Cardilini, and you won’t even have to jump the counter, I’ll come out!’ Christie yelled at the disappearing Cardilini.

  Christie gave Spencer another smile and a nod as she followed Cardilini to the cells.

  As soon as Cooper saw the two detectives he jumped up on his bunk and pulled his legs up. ‘No. No.’

  ‘Stop your squealing, no one’s going to touch you,’ Cardilini snapped. He sat at the small table and pushed a chair towards Spencer, which she ignored. ‘You’re going to answer a few questions—’

  ‘No I’m not!’

  ‘What?’ Cardilini bellowed.

  ‘I don’t have to.’ Cooper drew closer to the wall.

  Cardilini took a moment to stare him down. ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘It’s the law.’ Cooper looked past Cardilini to the doorway. Cardilini turned sharply to see where he was looking. ‘I don’t have to answer your questions. I got a lawyer!’ he yelled, looking to Spencer for confirmation.

  ‘You got a lawyer?’ Cardilini asked, incredulous. ‘You cut that woman, you’ve cut her before. I’m going to put you in a place where your cellmates love rubbish like you. You know why?’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘They love you because when they belt the shit out of you, no one is going to do anything about it. Do you know why that is?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because you’re the bottom of the barrel, and those mongrels stuck in there think about women a lot … you can figure out the rest. Now, are you going to talk to me like a nice fellow or am I going to make sure you get extra nasty cellmates?’

  ‘No, no, no. Miss, he can’t do that,’ Cooper whined to Spencer. ‘I don’t have to say anything. I was told I don’t have to say anything!’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘I don’t have to say. I can go now,’ Cooper said, shaking his head, as much to himself as to Cardilini.

  ‘You’re going home now?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘I’m not saying where I’m going.’

  Cardilini put up a finger and pointed it slowly at Cooper. Then turned and left the cell. Spencer followed. ‘That’s a dangerous game, Christie,’ Cardilini said when he reached the counter.

  ‘Not for me,’ Christie replied.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Friday, 19 November 1965

  4 p.m.

  Cardilini stood rigidly next to the car, smoking. Spencer leant against it, arms crossed.

  ‘You okay?’ she asked.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think we have to follow procedure. We could jeopardise any hearing if we don’t do it correctly.’

  ‘Really? What do you think happened just then?’

  ‘He had every right—’

  ‘Someone got to him.’ He turned to her, gesticulating with his cigarette towards the station. ‘He’s a half-wit, he wouldn’t know his rights if they sat eating his dinner. We need a confession. Prosecutors won’t look at it without a confession.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Spencer said.

  ‘This isn’t working.’ He walked to the passenger door. ‘Drive to Duke Street.’

  ‘We can’t do that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What you’re thinking—’

  ‘You know what I’m thinking now, do you?’

  ‘This is not fair. I’m a detective, Cardilini, remember?’

  ‘I’m … I shouldn’t be … You deserve better, Spencer, but can we just go?’ He flicked his cigarette onto the bitumen and slumped into the passenger seat.

  Spencer drove tight-lipped to the Coopers’ house.

  ‘Let’s talk to the neighbours,’ Cardilini said when they arrived. Spencer grabbed her notebook and the camera and joined him on the footpath. ‘One house each? Or stay together?’

  ‘Together.’

  Cardilini didn’t move. Running his hand over his chin, try­ing to calm himself, he said, ‘I found it difficult going to the Norfolk.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Okay,’ Cardilini said, still without moving.

  ‘Are you trying to apologise for your behaviour?’

  Cardilini didn’t know what he was trying to do so started walking to the house to the left of the Coopers’ rental.

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ Spencer said after him.

  Half-a-dozen workers’ cottages built in the early 1900s sat side by side. Each had a raised verandah a couple of yards from the front picket fence. Some hadn’t received any maintenance in a long time: missing fence palings, rickety front gates, loose steps, verandah boards protruding at odd angles, overgrown shrubs.

  ‘All rentals,’ Cardilini noted. He mounted the steps and a single stride had him at the front door. His heavy knock brought forth a thin female voice from within. When the front door opened a fraction, a woman in her thirties peered out the gap. Her tightly permed blonde hair was what you noticed first, then her lips, accentuated with bright red lipstick. Her cheeks were highlighted; her eyes were lined with kohl; thick face powder stopped at her jaw. The overall effect was confronting.

  ‘Yes?’ she said. Cardilini and Spencer held out their badges. She barely looked at them. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Can we come in?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘No.’

  Cardilini gave her a hard, quizzical look; the woman didn’t flinch. ‘Would you step outside, then?’ he asked. The question seemed to take the woman by surprise.

  ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘No,’ Spencer said quickly.

  ‘It just might be easier.’ Cardilini let his glance drift to Spencer but she ignored him.

  ‘Look, I’m not really dressed for stepping out,’ the woman said.

  Cardilini gestured to Spencer for Ryan’s notes. ‘All right, then. Is your name Alice Gould?’

  ‘Yes,’ the woman said.

  ‘And did you phone the Fremantle Police Station yesterday?’

  ‘I’m not saying.’

  ‘Well, you did,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘Still not saying,’ she repeated to Spencer, without looking at Cardilini.

  ‘Listen, lady, I’m about to make your life hell. When I kick this door down and get in there with my camera, what do you think some arsehole copper is going to make of it? Or has that already happened?’

  The woman gave Cardilini a hard stare. ‘Look, she was screaming. I didn’t know what was happening. I had to ring.’

  ‘Melody Cooper?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You like Melody?’

  ‘She’s all right, but still a baby.’

  Spencer nodded. ‘I like her, too, and she’s so tiny. I know why you called; I would have done the same thing. You did the right thing. Melody knows that.’

  ‘She’s a good neighbour,’ the woman said.

  ‘We don’t want her to be hurt anymore,’ Spencer said. ‘We want her husband, Archie, to be
punished.’

  ‘Why?’ the woman asked.

  ‘For what he was doing to her. You must know he was hurting her?’ Spencer said.

  ‘Oh yeah.’

  ‘That doesn’t seem to worry you,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘I like to stick to my own business. Look, it just got out of hand yesterday. And I had visitors and they wanted to know what was going on. It was …’

  ‘Bad for business,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Right. The other times it’s happened what did you do?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘It’s never happened before.’

  ‘Yes, it has. We have hospital records,’ Cardilini said and flourished Ryan’s notes.

  ‘None of my business.’

  ‘Did you know she’d been to hospital before?’ Spencer asked.

  The woman shrugged.

  ‘Does Melody have many visitors?’ Cardilini asked. The woman shrugged again. ‘I bet a businesswoman like you wouldn’t miss an opportunity like her. Gold mine, you’d think.’ The woman turned a shrewd eye to Cardilini. ‘You could do without the competition, is that right?’

  ‘God, we don’t do that!’ she said.

  ‘What, cut for the customers?’ Cardilini asked casually.

  ‘I don’t have to talk to you. I know my rights.’

  ‘No, you don’t. I’m glad they told you that, I’m not interested in getting you into trouble,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘Good. I did the right thing. She knows that.’ The woman nodded at Spencer.

  ‘Yes, you did. So, the visitors, when did they leave?’

  ‘When I yelled out that I was calling the police.’

  ‘How long had she been screaming for?’ The woman shrugged again. ‘Melody’s a good screamer, is she?’ Cardilini received another shrewd look. ‘Did you know the visitors?’

  The woman looked stony-faced. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘No. My mistake. Sorry to trouble you, Miss Gould,’ Cardilini said and stepped back.

  ‘Mrs,’ the woman corrected. Then she turned brightly to Spencer. ‘I heard about you, Detective Constable Spencer. You must be crazy. Don’t you know they …’ she flicked her head in Cardilini’s direction, ‘… are the lowest form of life on the planet?’

  ‘It’s time that changed,’ Spencer said, glancing at Cardilini.

  ‘I’m with you. They’re all as weak as water,’ the woman said with a smile and raised an eyebrow at Cardilini.

  Cardilini walked down the steps while Spencer thanked the woman and followed him to the front of the Coopers’ house. The front door now nailed with pine planks barring access.

  ‘Bit over the top,’ he said. ‘Who do you think did this? Certainly not Cooper. And I doubt the landlord would care. Take some photos and wait here. Yell loudly if anyone turns up.’

  ‘Who are you expecting?’

  ‘Whoever did this,’ he said, indicating the planks, ‘wants everyone out, police included. I bet the lady we were just talking to will be making a phone call right now.’ Cardilini stepped from the verandah and went round the side of the house.

  The side passage was overgrown with thigh-high dried yellow wild oats and littered with bottles. The windows were papered with newspaper from the inside. The backyard featured a few large acacia trees and a path of crushed limestone leading from the back door to the back gate. Cardilini looked around, then hit the back door with his shoulder. It flung open and smacked against the wall behind it. He stood still as he took it all in; the kitchen was much as they had left it, the only thing out of place was a new refrigerator. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and opened the fridge door. It was well stocked with bottled beer, champagne and trays of sweet pastries. He walked down the corridor to the room on his right. A double bed, head facing the street, sat in the middle. An attractive pink and mauve quilt lay on the floor. Three wardrobes stood side by side along the wall opposite the door. Cardilini pulled them open: rows of women’s clothing filled two and a good part of the third. Beside the last wardrobe was a pile of women’s underwear and various dresses and skirts – some torn or cut, some stained. A dressing table overflowed with bottles and jars.

  He went through to the room opposite, which faced onto the verandah. Before him were four directional standard lamps standing over two yards high behind six upholstered leather chairs arranged facing the street. Behind them were heavy red drapes, and secured to all the walls were layers of cardboard egg cartons.

  He’d seen enough.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Friday, 19 November 1965

  4.45 p.m.

  ‘I’m a bit lost, Cardilini,’ Spencer said as they drove back to Fremantle.

  ‘Yep, well, I’m going to drop you off at a block of flats near William Street. When I picked up the file from the hospital I asked for this.’ Cardilini handed her a piece of paper. ‘It’s the name and address of a nurse who works in the emergency department. Have a chat to her. Get as much information as you can, particularly about any police dropping Melody off at the hospital. Did you get a good look at the two coppers who took Cooper away yesterday?’

  ‘The senior constables?’

  ‘Yep. One is Crothers, the other, Lark. Don’t write those names down,’ he added when he saw Spencer reaching for her notebook.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because then they’re names associated with possible criminal behaviour. Do you want that sort of timebomb sitting in your notebook?’

  ‘It’s proper police procedure,’ Spencer said.

  ‘It’s textbook police procedure. But it is in no way proper to implicate other police officers without good cause. At the moment we don’t have good cause. Do you understand?’

  Spencer looked from her notebook to Cardilini and then back to her notebook. ‘I wish you hadn’t told me their names.’

  ‘You’re making this very difficult, Spencer.’

  ‘I’m making this difficult? I’m the one who wants to follow correct procedure; how can I be making this difficult?’

  Cardilini pulled up outside the block of flats. ‘Talk to this nurse by yourself. You’re not to mention those names I gave you; I gave them to you in error. I’m telling you this officially.’

  ‘Right. That I understand,’ Spencer said, closing her notebook. ‘So, I’m doing this interview by myself?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Because I’m not as abrasive as you?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You were trying to. Where are you going?’

  ‘I need to speak to Ryan again. I’ll be fifty minutes. I’ll meet you there.’ Cardilini pointed to a small café beside the flats.

  ‘How is this going to help Archie Cooper’s prosecution?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ***

  The Fremantle Library was cool and musty. On the way to the office where he had met Ryan earlier he saw Appleby stretched out comfortably reading a newspaper. Ryan was inside the office looking out the window.

  ‘Better tell me what you already know, Ryan,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘About what?’

  ‘The racket Archie Cooper’s running for starters, why coppers aren’t recording their trips to the hospital with Melody, and who’s been coaching Cooper and his neighbours on what to say when we turn up.’ Cardilini sat down in the chair behind the desk and put his feet up. ‘Take your time. I’m not taking notes.’

  ‘You never take notes.’

  ‘So, just tell me straight.’

  ‘Straight,’ Ryan repeated and sat in the other chair facing Cardilini. ‘You going to charge Cooper?’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  ‘Then the rest doesn’t matter. Why confuse the issue?’

 
‘Let’s just say I don’t enjoy being treated like a sucker.’

  ‘It’s out of your area, Cardilini. We don’t go poking around the East Perth boys’ business.’

  ‘Ryan, I’m asking you tell me, man to man. We used to do that for each other.’

  ‘Yeah, we did,’ Ryan said, ‘but that was before you thumped one of my colleagues and tried to make the whole force look like a bunch of woman bashers.’ He stared challengingly at Cardilini. Cardilini’s mouth opened and his eyebrows rose; he attempted several replies, then closed his mouth and shook his head. ‘You want to charge Cooper? No one’s standing in your way.’

  ‘Someone briefed him on what to say.’

  ‘He had to know his rights.’

  ‘Since when? I wanted a confession.’

  ‘Yeah. Okay, that wasn’t me. Someone got to him.’

  ‘Christie?’

  Ryan shrugged.

  ‘Christie’s a piece of work, you know that,’ Cardilini growled.

  ‘He’s a colleague. Remember? You haven’t forgotten that part, have you?’

  ‘He’s got a hand in the Duke Street action, has he?’

  ‘What action?’

  ‘Archie Cooper is cutting his wife for paying customers and the little spider next door is running some sort of knocking shop. I reckon if I banged on a few more doors down there I’d get other varieties of the same. Am I right?’

  Ryan let his eyes roll around the room before he looked back at Cardilini. ‘These girls were all nice and tidy in the Roe Street brothels before some Perth City councillor wanted to make a profit. And now they’re all here. It’s just like what you boys had going.’

  ‘Is that why you got me in? Didn’t want your income interrupted? Couldn’t be picking Cooper up and being paid by him at the same time?’ Ryan’s face darkened and Cardilini could see he was a few prods away from exploding. ‘I’m not accusing you, Ryan, I know who you are, I know you’re treading a fine line; I’m just trying to make sense of it all.’

  ‘I told them you’d figure it out. Christie’s been at Fremantle for so long he thinks he’s working for a private enterprise. He’s lost sight of the big picture.’ Ryan stood and walked across to the window.