Blake nodded. ‘That was before I knew her. I think the way she dealt with that was part of who she was. It made her strong.’
He looked at the doorway through which Conti had taken Donna, as though comparing his two girlfriends. As though inviting Troy to explore that avenue.
Troy said, ‘Did she ever talk about her father and The Tower?’
‘Not much. She’d put that behind her.’
‘Did she ever visit The Tower?’
‘No.’ Blake’s face expressed puzzlement. ‘Why would she?’
‘Her cousin told us she did.’
‘I wouldn’t believe anything Jenny tells you.’
When Conti had finished with Donna, the detectives said goodbye and left.
In the car, Conti asked how it had gone. Troy thought it had gone well enough; no one had jumped off a balcony. But he didn’t say that.
‘I wouldn’t say he’s all that easy to read. How was Donna?’
‘Smarter than she looks.’
‘She looks pretty smart to me.’
Conti gazed at him with round eyes but there was no humour there: she was a serious kind of woman. Finally she said, ‘They saw quite a bit of Margot; there don’t seem to have been many hard feelings.’
‘Why did Blake and Margot split up?’
‘She dumped him, but it was no big drama apparently. She never stuck with anyone for more than a year.’
‘Like a sort of policy?’
‘I got the impression Blake’s the same, one for moving on.’ She stopped for a moment and looked away. Then: ‘Donna said they all had dinner together not long ago.’
‘At Miranda Edwards’.’
‘Margot seemed happy, her normal self. Donna says she was a beautiful person.’
He looked out at the traffic. The council was tearing up part of the road, and they’d been stuck for five minutes.
‘Call Johnson,’ he said. ‘See what they got from the best friend.’
He listened while Conti rang the other detective. When she’d finished she said, ‘Edwards says Margot was deeply depressed. At the dinner party ten days ago she hardly said a word. Donna was very hostile towards her. Miranda says she only invited both women because Damon insisted. She doesn’t think he understands women very well.’
Troy nodded. This was better.
‘She says after he dumped Margot she was upset, there was still a lot of emotion there.’
‘The beautiful people have been lying to us.’
‘You going to turn the car around?’
He thought about what they’d just learned and asked Conti to call Ruth to find out who had done the follow-up search of Margot’s apartment. By the time she found out, the traffic had freed up and they were almost back at the station. The detectives had been Ryan and Bergman.
Troy pulled up outside Central.
‘You can’t park here,’ she protested.
‘We’re not staying. Go get the keys to Margot’s place.’
They found what they were looking for at the Horizon almost straight away. Troy led the way into the kitchen and opened a sheet of newspaper on the large table there. He pulled on some gloves and located a big rubbish bin inside a cupboard, and tipped its contents onto the paper. Conti looked at him.
‘They already did this,’ she said. ‘I saw the list. It’s just tissues and stuff.’
There were no food scraps there, just what looked like the contents of the bin from the bathroom. Someone must have transferred rubbish from one bin to the other. He spread out the tissues and the cotton buds, a toilet roll and a few empty packaging boxes. One of the clumps of tissue was bigger than the rest, and he gently prised it apart. Inside was a used condom.
Troy thought about Bergman. He’d have to have a word to Stone about getting rid of him. Or maybe this was unfair, maybe it was Ryan who’d missed the condom. But he didn’t think so. Being a cop meant making snap judgements about people that were usually right.
When they got back to the station, Randall was waiting for them. Troy experienced a surge of affection on seeing the engineer that took him by surprise. For a moment his emotions were all over the place, and he had a vivid memory of Sunday night. He’d assumed its effects would gradually fade, but it didn’t seem to be happening yet. Conti left them and Troy took Randall down the corridor to the screening room, and ran the part of the Westpac CCTV footage that showed Mr A walking along Norfolk Street, his head bare, looking down at the footpath.
‘Recognise him?’
‘No.’
Troy told Randall that the guy was not mentioned on Asaad’s list, and played the film again. It was definitely a man not wanting his face to be seen. When he got to the entrance he glanced up and down the street before disappearing inside.
‘Like a man ducking into a brothel,’ Randall said.
The comparison hadn’t occurred to Troy, who grinned.
Randall leaned back in his chair and smiled. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Don’t say policemen never stray.’
‘I’m sure it’s been known.’
‘No need for some. That’s a very attractive detective you’ve got working with you.’
‘I’m a married man,’ Troy said, still smiling. He found Randall uncomplicated to talk to. The way he reduced everything to sex.
‘I’ll swap her for my secretary. We could double date.’ The engineer rubbed his hands together.
‘You can dream,’ Troy said. He shook his head and, forcing himself to concentrate, said, ‘How likely is it Asaad would have made a mistake and left two people off his list?’
‘He’d have been sacked if his company ever found out. It’s one of their performance criteria in the contract.’ Randall laughed. ‘I’m still learning about security, but contract management is something I do know.’
Troy fast-forwarded the CCTV to 6.40 pm and slowed it down a bit. At 6.45 pm they saw Mr A exit the building. It was harder to make him out now, it was darker. You could see his face a little, as he walked down the footpath, but he kept his chin tucked down and the image was poor. Troy knew there was almost nothing to be done by way of enhancing the picture.
‘There goes the answer to our questions,’ he said as Mr A walked out of sight.
Randall stood up. ‘Any news on Bazzi or Asaad?’
He seemed very interested in the details of the investigation. But then, he was a security manager.
‘Our inquiries are continuing.’
Randall smiled. ‘Feel like that drink I owe you tonight?’
Troy was tempted. He had the feeling Randall would be a good companion for a relaxing evening, which was something he could do with. These days, being at home was harder work than being at work. But there was no time. He needed to write up what he’d just learned, tell everyone who needed to know.
As they walked towards the front of the station, Randall said, ‘Do you like your job?’
Troy did, but he’d learned not to admit it. You told people you loved that kind of work and they avoided you. Or asked you why.
‘It’s okay.’
‘Have you got any leads at the moment?’
‘Not really.’ He wouldn’t tell Randall anyway. Unfortunately there was nothing much to hide, from Randall or anyone else. ‘It would be sweet to have an identity for Mr A. Or even a clear picture. We’ll show what we have to the rest of the guards who were there that night, then give it to the media.’
‘You don’t sound full of optimism.’
Troy shrugged. If Mr A wanted to talk to the police, he would have done it by now.
Back in the office, he asked Conti if there was any word on Blake. The singer hadn’t been at home when they’d gone back to his flat after the discovery at the Horizon. Troy had asked two of the plainclothes officers attached to the investigation to find him and bring him in. This time it would be a serious conversation.
Conti hadn’t heard anything, but told him they’d had a call from Long Bay: Nawaz Khan, the man whose prints had been found on McIver’s gun, wa
nted to talk. It was exciting news and she remained by his desk, moving from foot to foot. Troy looked around and saw that all the sergeants were out of the office. It was a perfect excuse to get away. Even Stone would agree this was urgent.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Half an hour later they took their seats in an interview room at the jail. Khan had a certain strength to him; he had none of Qzar’s nervousness and despair.
Troy asked him what he wanted.
‘I am a computer programmer,’ Khan said. ‘I do not shoot policemen.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You have charged me with possession of a gun.’ He turned his hands palm-up and looked at them. They were calloused and cracked. ‘At home I have four servants. No one in my family has ever laid concrete before.’
Conti said, ‘You’ve refused to tell us anything about the gun, and we’re now considering charging you with attempted murder.’
Khan didn’t even look at her. Maybe he realised the idea was absurd. Or maybe he just didn’t like dealing with women in positions of authority. He said, ‘How many days is it since you arrested me?’
‘We picked you up Sunday night. It’s now late Wednesday morning. I’m sure you can work out how long that is.’
Ignoring her, Khan said to Troy, ‘I want a deal.’
‘What sort of deal?’
‘The sort where you give me what I want and I give you what you want.’
Here we go again, Troy thought. ‘What do you want?’
‘There was a one-day cricket match in Karachi yesterday. Pakistan against the West Indies. If you tell me the result, I will tell you about the gun.’
Troy scratched his head. Why now? he wondered. ‘That’s the deal?’
Khan nodded gravely.
Troy said, ‘So tell me about the gun.’
‘No. I want to know the result first.’
Troy didn’t know. With all the activity of the past days, he was out of touch. ‘We’ll have to go and find out.’
‘No,’ Conti said.
Khan was smiling now, enjoying the slight confusion among his captors.
She said, ‘Narrow victory to the Windies.’
Khan scowled and looked at her briefly. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes. We can get the score for you later.’
Khan ran one of his hands along the edge of the table, looking at his fingers when he’d finished as though testing for dust. Maybe that’s what you did when you had servants.
‘I’m disappointed, naturally,’ Khan said. ‘Our national team has been improving lately. And then there was Jenkins’ groin injury.’ He shook his head theatrically.
Troy said, ‘The deal.’
Khan said nothing for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. Then he began to speak.
‘I sometimes went up to the retail level of the building and wandered around; I found it refreshing to be by myself for a change. I was up there on Sunday night, and I saw the gun on the ground in one of the shops. I thought such a thing might be useful to protect myself, so I took it.’
‘Did you see anyone else there?’
‘No.’
‘Why did you think you might need to protect yourself?’
‘It was just a precaution. The people who brought us here seemed to be treating us squarely. But I suspect they are men of violence, and I wondered what would happen when the time came for them to give us the false papers we had paid for.’
‘So you thought you’d arm yourself?’ Conti said.
‘I thought having some protection would not be a bad thing.’
Troy said, ‘Didn’t you wonder why the gun was just lying there?’
‘I thought one of the guards might have dropped it.’ He shrugged. ‘I did not think about it much, to tell you the truth. In my country, there are many guns.’
They talked about it some more, Conti going in hard so that Khan was forced to look at her, Troy holding back and considering his story. He was consistent, and however strange it might be, his story of finding the gun fitted in with what else they knew.
Conti said, ‘Why are you only telling us this now?’
Troy could tell she was beaten, at least for the moment.
Khan said, ‘When you caught us it was a great blow. My future, my savings have all gone. I needed time to adjust to this change in my life at the psychological level.’
‘So you withheld information from a murder investigation?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Did you see anyone else down there?’
‘I’ve told you before, I saw no one.’
Troy asked him about Bazzi and Asaad, and Khan said he knew both of them by sight.
‘You saw one of them that night, didn’t you?’
Khan shook his head, almost with contempt. It was the wrong question.
Troy said, ‘You saw another man, the one with the gun. He killed a woman by throwing her off the building. You can help yourself by telling the truth.’
Khan closed his eyes. ‘I saw no one.’ Pause. ‘Maybe I should have spoken to you earlier.’
There was something else there and Troy wondered how to get it. He said quietly, ‘Is there anything you can help us with?’
For a while the other man considered this. Then he said, ‘I can tell you how they gained access to the building. Would that be useful?’
Conti looked at Troy, who kept staring at Khan, not sure if he’d heard correctly. ‘That would be appreciated.’
Khan opened his eyes. ‘One night when I was on the retail level looking at the shops, I saw two men come in through a door in the wall.’
‘Did they see you?’
‘No. It was a long way, I couldn’t see them clearly, but they were Pakistanis. The security guard Bazzi let them in. They were carrying big bags, and they took them over to the goods lift and put them down, and then they walked back to the door. Bazzi was talking to one of the men, and when they’d finished he shook his hand. The other man he ignored. When they’d gone through the doorway he closed it and locked it. Then he went back to the lift and I went back down the emergency stairs.’
‘Was Bazzi there when you got back?’
‘I ran down, I didn’t want him to notice that I was gone. When I arrived, some of my friends were carrying the bags over to our kitchen. That was how the food always arrived—Bazzi would bring it down in the lift.’
‘Did you tell anyone what you’d seen?’
Khan shook his head. ‘If Bazzi had found out that I’d seen, I don’t know what he would have done.’
Conti asked for more details, and Khan described the exact location of the door. It was the entrance to the tunnel that ran under Elizabeth Street to Hyde Park. They went over what he’d seen several times.
At last Khan said, ‘This has been helpful?’
‘When did this occur?’ snapped Conti.
‘About a fortnight ago.’
‘I can’t believe—’
‘Yes,’ said Troy. ‘It is helpful.’
Twenty-one
Randall left the police station and looked at his watch. Christ, his doctor’s appointment was for five minutes ago. He ran through the streets, dodging other pedestrians. He felt so good today he wondered why he was bothering; he didn’t need a doctor at all. He was there before long, hardly panting at all as he announced himself to the receptionist.
She consulted her book, and looked up at him with gloomy triumph. ‘You’re a day early, Mr Randall.’
‘That can’t be.’
She showed him the page. ‘It’s written here. I talked to you myself. But if it’s something urgent, maybe I can squeeze you in later today?’
‘It’s nothing,’ he said, turning to go.
Just memory loss.
Back on the street he walked more slowly, allowing people to pass him. When he’d lived in Sydney last time, he’d thought of it vaguely as one big leisure camp. But since he’d been back he’d been impressed, slightly appalled, by how ha
rd everyone worked. It had got him down, the neat busyness of the place. Still, the whole world was going this way. He took a deep breath, trying to get up to speed again. Bite the bullet. Call the man. He pulled out his phone and dialled.
‘Mr Wu.’ He increased his pace, the effort blunting the panic now expanding inside his chest. ‘I have some news. I talked to Troy at City Central—we’re becoming great mates. An unknown man went into the building soon after Margot Teresi on Sunday night. Came out around the time she died. The police think he might be involved in her death.’
‘They have a photo?’
‘Not a good one. They’re releasing it tonight.’
‘You have a copy for me?’
‘Ah, no.’
Why was Henry never happy? It was a fucking police station, you couldn’t just take whatever you wanted.
‘So you’re giving me a heads-up, as they say. Of what, seven hours?’
What, he wondered, was Henry’s problem?
‘I’ve just been with Detective Troy. It’s all they’ve got.’
‘You think he’d tell you everything?’
‘I believe I’ve won his confidence.’
Randall walked fifty metres while waiting for Henry to speak again. People passed by, brushing his coat, absurdly unaware of the importance of these seconds. After Jamal’s call last night, Randall felt his future was in the balance. Again. The pain was back in his gut. Then a beep indicating a missed call. A quick look. Gregor. Thank God.
‘Nothing on Asaad?’ said Wu at last.
‘Jamal told me he gave you the address last night.’
‘You knew nothing before that?’ He didn’t sound angry, but that didn’t mean anything. ‘I need an answer, Sean.’
Tricky call. Jamal couldn’t be trusted anymore. Time for the truth.
‘He told me earlier and I went out there myself—I was going to take care of it. But there were too many bikies at the house. I thought I’d go back today.’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’
‘I want to help.’
‘I mean, I wouldn’t do that because it’s too late.’
Randall stopped walking and stood with his back to a shop window, letting all the other pedestrians pass. He wondered what Henry had done to Asaad. Probably got him to a safe place, somewhere he wouldn’t talk. But why? Not his business. It would be difficult to deal with Henry if he allowed himself to dwell too much on what he might be capable of. And he had to stay friendly with Henry because the man was going to finance the business in Houston. This was the logic of the situation.
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