Whistle Down The Wire

by Robert Engwerda

  ‘No, sir. Nothing.’

  ‘Good. Then make sure you keep it that way,’ Cole advised him.

  Van der Sloot seemed genuine enough, Cole thought, but at the same time he was nervous about something, no doubt to do with who or what was inside his caravan. Cole walked back to his car, different sets of eyes following him out of the caravan park’s rag-tag accommodation.

  He drove away in the direction of Hilltop to see Martin Bigelow. He wanted to hear what explanation Bigelow would give for being the recipient of Harry Colston’s largesse. And as soon as he arrived at Bigelow’s property, the farmer was waiting for him in exactly the same position as before, as though he’d been anticipating him.

  ‘Why was Harry regularly dropping money into your back account, Mr Bigelow?’

  The man pursed his lips as if it was of no account.

  ‘He wanted a couple of horses that had been promised to me, yearlings. He thought they’d be his ticket out of trouble.’

  ‘Since when have you been interested in horses? I don’t see any around here.’

  ‘You have to diversify, that’s the word isn’t it, love?’ he addressed his wife, who came to see what it was all about. ‘Everyone says that. My brother is law has horses. There’s no big secret about that. We’re family and we help each other. If I can sell one of his horses to someone who’s interested, and for a good price, I’m doing him a favour and getting a cut myself at the same time.’

  ‘What Harry was in the process of paying you for these horses, was it over the odds?’

  ‘It’d depend.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how good the horses turned out to be.’

  ‘For unraced yearlings then. Was he getting a bargain or not?’

  Bigelow snorted dismissively. ‘Harry would’ve paid anything for those horses after I told him their pedigree. No mistake, they are good horses.’

  ‘Just as he would’ve taken anything for that block of land he sold you.’

  ‘No one forced him to sell it.’

  ‘Maybe not, but the fact is you got it dirt cheap.’

  ‘He wanted the money. We signed the contract.’

  ‘And why didn’t you tell me all this the other day?’

  ‘It was just business. And I don’t need to go shouting it around at the top of my lungs, do I? What happens now though? Do I keep the horses and hand back the money or what?’

  ‘You better talk to Albert Grimes about that. He’s handling the estate.’

  ‘I suppose I better then,’ Bigelow replied.

  If Cole had previously supposed Colston’s finances might have been in a mess, he was convinced of it now. Untangling it all would be a good test of Grimes’ mettle.

  ‘And I expect Mr Grimes will want to be paid for that, too?’ Mrs Bigelow said.

  ‘He runs a business,’ Cole told her. ‘He’ll want payment for whatever he does.’

  And part of him took a dark pleasure in anticipating how those two might clash.

  Cole turned his attention back to the farmer, saying, ‘I’ve been told Harry had a sharefarmer. Which was news to me. Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘Yes. Barry Jennings. He still comes over every day to milk the herd, such as it is. The gate’s locked, so Harry’s sister must have given him a key.’

  ‘Wayne Jennings’ brother?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘I didn’t know Barry Jennings was a farmer. What experience has he got?’

  ‘Probably not very much. But you don’t need to be Albert Einstein to be able to milk cows. It’s all the other parts of farming where you need to know what you’re doing. But at the rate its going, in a couple of month’s time Hilltop will look like it’s never been farmed in its life.’

  Chapter 25

  In the dead of night Cole was woken by a car screeching to a halt. Seconds later a single shotgun blast crashed through their lounge room window. As he pulled Nancy to the floor there was another screech of tyres but by the time he had run outside the car had already gone.

  It happened so quickly that as he stood in the street he could still smell the car’s exhaust fumes. He turned to look back at his house and saw the shattered window, light glowing eerily through the curtain behind it.

  ‘Stay inside, Nance, and turn off the lights,’ he called when she appeared by the front door.

  Lights were switched on all the way down the street, a few anxious neighbours peering cautiously along it.

  ‘Everyone back inside! There’s nothing to look at here!’ Cole shouted, having to repeat the order several times and glower at his neighbours until they understood the seriousness of it.

  ‘Don’t touch anything,’ he told Nancy as he went inside and telephoned Sergeant Forrest, asking him to get to the house as quickly as he could.

  Forrest soon arrived, his burly figure labouring out of his vehicle. Cole noticed he was carrying his service revolver.

  ‘Jesus!’ Forrest exclaimed, staring at the window. ‘Who’d do that?’

  ‘That’s what I mean to find out. What time is it now?’

  Forrest looked at his watch. ‘As good as three-thirty.’

  ‘First thing then, nine o’clock, phone Shepparton and get someone over here pronto to look at this.’

  The two men stood in the yard appraising the damage.

  ‘It looks like a shotgun, that kind of hole,’ Forrest said.

  ‘Definitely a shotgun,’ Cole agreed. ‘We should find pellets in the garden bed in front of the window, as well as inside.’

  ‘Did you catch a look at the car?’ Forrest asked.

  ‘Gone before I could get outside. I smelt exhaust fumes so we might be looking for someone with a smoky exhaust, but that’s not much to go on.’

  ‘Got it. You think this might be mixed up with what you’re looking into, the Colston business?’

  ‘When my tyres got slashed last week I would’ve said no. Now I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Is there anything else we’re doing that might be the cause?’

  ‘I wouldn’t think so. Unless it’s a long-held grudge.’

  ‘Well, that could be your answer,’ Forrest, always looking for a quick resolution, decided.

  ‘We’ll see,’ Cole said. ‘In the meantime let’s have a look for any evidence of the gun in the street.’

  Had the gunman fired from inside or out of the car? Probably the latter, they thought, although Cole hadn’t heard a car door open or shut. But there was no spent cartridge by the gutter or on the nature strip, so it must have been gathered if the gun had been broken after firing. If they’d bothered with that. The only evidence left behind were rubber marks left by spinning wheels as the car had sped off.

  And by using a shotgun someone was sending him a message, Cole knew. After the tyre slashing episode this was no accident and the intention was to pay him back or threaten him. Any attack on a home was personal, too, designed to make it clear to him that he wasn’t safe anywhere. And in that, at least, they had succeeded.

  Cole told his sergeant, ‘In the morning get Whittaker and one of the others to door knock the street, find out if anyone saw anything. Take statements where you need to.’

  But there wasn’t much they could do until daylight, and after Forrest went home Cole and Nancy had a cup of tea, trying to settle each other down, before she attempted to sleep in the back room while Cole sat on a fold-up chair in the driveway, in the lee of the house with Forrest’s service revolver in his lap. There was no chance of him going back to sleep.

  *

  Soon after nine o’clock two police cars from Shepparton roared into the street and Cole left them to their work. Nancy packed a bag and he drove her to Coral Bridges’ house where she’d be safe and in good company. Coral was aghast when she heard what had happened, and took Nancy into h
er arms in a way that made Cole’s heart bleed. He stayed half an hour until he was satisfied that she was reasonably comfortable, but he remained uneasy.

  As he drove away to the police station he felt his anger rising, and the disquiet of not knowing who or what he was up against.

  Everyone at the station made a fuss of him when they learned what had happened, but it only made him feel crankier, not better. They wanted to help, to do something, but the attention wasn’t what he needed.

  When Sheridan said she was thinking of going to see Linda Fantasio at home, to make a welfare check on little George, Cole told her he’d go, too.

  ‘It’s just to check on the kid, boss. I can manage it on my own,’ Sheridan protested.

  ‘Sure. All the same, I’ll join you,’ Cole said.

  ‘Shouldn’t we phone her first?’

  Cole answered testily, ‘No. Let’s keep the element of surprise.’

  ‘You don’t have to go with me,’ Sheridan said. ‘Don’t you need to sort out what happened to your house?’

  ‘Yes, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do,’ Cole snapped. ‘We’ll both see Fantasio and that’s the end of it.’

  Sheridan was taken aback, rattled even when she’d never heard him speak crossly about anything in the brief time she’d been in Mitchell. It was the shooting, she knew, but Cole’s reaction still shocked her.

  And she was in a bind now, too, springing Cole unexpectedly on Linda, when Cole knew nothing about the help she’d been given in moving house, and when Linda was suspicious about Cole’s investigations into her brother’s death.

  Cole drove stony-faced to Fantasio’s house, saying nothing.

  ‘She wouldn’t have had anything to do with the shooting,’ Sheridan said tentatively, throwing a glance across at him, but Cole didn’t answer.

  When they pulled up in front of the house, Cole muttered, ‘Not quite the dump she said it was’ and Sheridan knew he was up for a fight.

  While not palatial, the house was a neat brick house with a well manicured garden, three birch trees leafless out the front. A double carport sheltered two relatively new and spotlessly clean vehicles.

  When Cole rang the doorbell Linda Fantasio was visibly taken aback, quickly glancing at Sheridan to gauge what was going on.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you inside,’ Cole said and as good as pushed his way inside.

  Sheridan shook her head in warning to Fantasio as they followed Cole into the lounge room, where he sat himself down on the sofa. Sheridan stood and waited anxiously while Fantasio sat on a chair opposite Cole, who got straight to the point.

  ‘Do you or John have any weapons in this house?’

  ‘I’ve never shot a gun in my life,’ she answered. ‘What do you want to know for?’

  ‘Does John have a gun?’

  ‘Yes, he sometimes goes duck shooting with his friends.’

  ‘Show me where it is.’

  Fantasio got up smartly and led Cole to a hallway cupboard from which she drew a shotgun in a case.

  ‘I’ll take that with me and have it checked out,’ Cole said as he took it from her. ‘Let’s keep talking.’

  ‘Checked out for what?’

  ‘Someone blew a big hole in my front window last night,’ he continued. ‘Do you know anything about that?’

  ‘No, nothing.’ She looked genuinely shocked, throwing another glance at Sheridan. ‘Why would anyone want to do that?’

  ‘Perhaps because they don’t like what I’m doing. Perhaps you don’t like me trying to find out what really happened to your brother and his wife, because when I do learn the truth it might mean you’ll lose your share of Hilltop and the little kid as well.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ she scoffed. ‘It’s rubbish.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Yes it is!’

  Their raised voices woke the child in the next room and Fantasio jumped up to attend to him, soothing him as she returned.

  ‘He’s saying a few words now.’ Fantasio was suddenly maternal with the child in her arms. ‘He said “Mum Mum” yesterday,’ she murmured, as if it were something she’d taught him herself. ‘He’s a smart little kid. He can say the names of some colours, and some animals.’

  Cole ignored it. ‘I hear you’re contesting the will,’ he said, again catching the look Fantasio shot at Sheridan. ‘Grimes told me. From what he says, you know I’ve been looking into Harry’s situation before he died.’

  ‘You seem to hear and know a lot.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.’

  ‘I suppose you’ve got your whole team busy with it,’ she said accusingly.

  ‘Not quite,’ Cole answered. ‘But we’re making progress and I’m beginning to see the picture pretty clearly now.’

  ‘Good for you then,’ she said. ‘If something was amiss with Harry’s death, then I hope you get to the bottom of it, but I can tell you in all honesty I had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Nor John?’

  ‘Nor Gianni. He’s a sook. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

  ‘But he doesn’t mind blowing ducks apart with a shotgun, it seems.’

  ‘That’s sport.’

  ‘And is blowing out people’s front windows sport, too?’

  ‘No,’ she said evenly, conscious of the child on her lap and that she shouldn’t alarm him. ‘That’s a shocking thing, and unforgiveable, whoever did it.’

  ‘Let’s get back to your brother’s will for a minute. The situation with Hilltop is that it’s a stalemate until the matter goes to court, that’s my reading of it. Is that correct?’ he said.

  ‘No one can do anything,’ she agreed.

  ‘Except Barry Jennings keeps milking the herd?’

  ‘What’s left of it. The wages Harry paid him left barely any profit for himself, when the milking should have been his main source of income.’

  ‘What about Hilltop? Who’s allowed in there beside Jennings? Who’s got the keys?’

  ‘You know I have, and no one goes in there without my express permission,’ she said.

  ‘Then I’ll need your permission, or I’ll ask the magistrate to give it to me. I need Harry’s papers.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you know as well as I do the trouble he was in. You probably know it even better than I do. The list of his debts was growing by the day and that was good enough reason for one of any number of people, yourself included, to want to do him harm. I need to borrow his papers and you’ll have them back to you just as you’ve given them to me.’

  ‘A fat lot of good that’ll do.’

  ‘That’s not how I see it. If you mean what you say, you’ll want Harry’s killer found, if not Dianne’s.’

  ‘So you’re saying Harry was definitely murdered now?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Alright then. I’ve Harry’s documents here. I didn’t want them kept at Hilltop where anyone could just break in and take them. People have broken in before,’ she said pointedly. ‘But I’ll get them for you.’

  Fantasio left the room with the baby.

  Cole said to Sheridan, ‘Why does she keep looking at you like that?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like, I don’t know, like she’s looking to you to bail her out. You haven’t been saying anything to her about the case, have you?’

  ‘No. Why would I say anything to her?’

  Cole’s eyes were trained on the door through which Fantasio would return.

  ‘I’m going to nail whoever killed the Colstons, and whoever tried to scare me off last night. They’re not getting away with it.’

  Sheridan looked away and Fantasio joined them again soon after, minus the child, handing Cole a stack of files.

  ‘Here. These are all I have. There’s nothing left at Hillto
p that anyone would be interested in.’

  ‘Is there a copy of the will in this lot?’

  ‘There is. I had Grimes make a copy for me. My lawyer also has a copy of it now.’

  ‘Thanks then. I’ll hang on to these for a while if you don’t mind.’

  ‘You can have them for a week and that’s all,’ she said. ‘That should give you more than enough time to do what you have to.’ She cast another significant look. ‘Or for what Miss Sheridan here has to do. And I’ll tell you one last time. I had nothing to do with Harry’s death. Or that woman’s.’

  Chapter 26

  Cole returned to the station to find a Shepparton detective waiting to take his statement. In the most precise language he could muster, he recalled being woken in the night, the gunshot blast and the collapsing glass. Also the residual smell of a car’s exhaust, neighbours streaming out of their houses, a car already speeding his attacker to safety.

  When he finished recording his statement, he returned to his desk and saw the growing pile of correspondence in his in-tray. He pulled it out for a moment before throwing it back. Instead he fished through the papers Linda Fantasio had handed over, quickly scanning the copy of the will.

  Wandering out of his office to find Janice he caught sight of Robyn Kinross behind the counter. There was trouble afoot.

  ‘Did you want to talk to me, or are you looking for someone else?’ he asked.

  ‘You,’ she answered, a cold glint in her voice.

  They sat down in Cole’s office.

  ‘So why did you go to see my mother?’ she demanded the moment she was seated.

  For a second Cole was caught out, wanting to deny it while realising that would’ve been stupid when she obviously knew.

  ‘I just thought …’ he began.

  ‘The hospital phoned us,’ she pressed.

  ‘I wouldn’t call that place a hospital. Penitentiary might be a better word,’ Cole said.

  ‘So you think we’ve just dumped her there, do you?’

  ‘I’m not accusing you of doing anything like that. I’m sure your father had his own reasons for doing it. Or thought he had.’

  But she unnerved him, even when he stood his ground.