Crucifixion Creek

by Barry Maitland

  ‘On the screen you can see the scene on the forecourt as secured by the arriving GD officers. The bodies of two men are on the ground. The one nearest the camera has been identified as Francis Hadley Capp, vice-president of the Crows. He appears to have been beaten with that baseball bat lying by his side, causing extensive head injuries. He is currently in intensive care. Beyond him lies Hakim Kassim Haddad, sergeant-at-arms of the Crows, killed by two shots to the upper body. His right hand is holding a pump-action shotgun which has been discharged. On the ground in the lower left of the picture are three nine-millimetre NATO cartridge cases, and in the upper left, not clearly visible in this picture, are some bloodstains.’

  Wagstaff pauses to turn a page of his notes and take a sip of water. Looking around the room Harry can see Deb at the front with several other homicide cops, including Bob Marshall. He recognises others from the gangs squad.

  ‘Now the other crime scene…’

  Wagstaff presses a button and the image switches to a large plan. Harry recognises the angular cubist heart-shape of Crucifixion Creek, pierced by the vertical shaft of Mortimer Street pointing to the square block of the Crow compound at its core.

  ‘At 20:57, thirty-one minutes after the triple-O call from the Swagman Hotel, a second call was received saying that a murder had been committed at the Crow clubhouse in Mortimer Street, here.’

  He clicks again and a larger scale plan of the clubhouse comes up.

  ‘Many of you were involved in the Strike Force Gemini raid on the clubhouse on the ninth of this month, and will be familiar with the layout of the building and yard. When a patrol car arrived at the Mortimer Street entrance at 21:01, they found the front gate open, and a single Harley-Davidson bike lying on the ground nearby. The officers went into the courtyard, and saw the doorway to the clubhouse standing open, here. They noticed several spots of blood on the concrete and followed them into the clubhouse main room; from there to the kitchen in the north-east corner.’

  He points.

  ‘Inside they found the refrigerator pulled into the room to reveal an open panel in the wall behind. Now you will see that this wall is in fact the external party wall forming the limit of the Crow site, and the room which they found beyond the opening is inside the neighbouring building. This room…’ click, ‘contains an arsenal of weapons, including military style assault weapons, as well as a substantial quantity of ammunition, as you can see in this photo taken from the opening into the room. This opening was never discovered in the Strike Force Gemini search of the building, which explains why no firearms were found in that raid.’

  Wagstaff pauses for another sip of water, and perhaps to gently emphasise Gemini’s failure. Harry sees Deb bow her head.

  ‘In the foreground you see the body of Roman Bebchuk, president of the Crows. He is holding an M4 carbine, which has been discharged. There is a quantity of 5.56 millimetre cartridge cases scattered on the floor and a number of bullet holes in the wall above the opening into the room. Bebchuk had a bullet wound to the upper left chest from which extensive bleeding had occurred, together with a second bullet wound to right chest. A single 9 millimetre case was also found in the room, similar to those found at the hotel forecourt. Ballistics are working now to establish if they were fired from the same weapon.

  ‘Out of picture to the right is a door from this room leading into a further room built within the factory shed which adjoins the Crow compound. Inside this second room is what appears to be a sophisticated drug laboratory. Forensics are working on it now.

  ‘Okay, our priorities are the following: to identify from cameras on the roads leading to the hotel each and every person who was in the hotel forecourt last evening, possibly as many as sixty bikies according to the hotel staff; to interview all of these to build up a picture of what happened; to seek out witnesses and CCTV records in the vicinity of Mortimer Street; and to identify and interview the owners of the building adjoining the Crow clubhouse. Let’s get to it.’

  The meeting breaks up as case managers set up teams and allocate tasks. Harry watches Marshall have a parting word with Wagstaff then leave. He goes to speak to Deb.

  ‘Sorry, missed the start of that. What about CCTV at the hotel?’

  ‘There wasn’t any, not in the forecourt.’

  ‘Typical. What’s the plan?’

  ‘We’re interviewing bikies when they’re brought in. But first I want to have a look at that bloody clubhouse again and see what we missed.’

  On the road over, Deb driving: ‘I see your girlfriend has moved to the Times.’

  ‘Has she?’

  ‘You didn’t see her latest scoop?’ She nods to the paper folded at Harry’s feet and he picks it up. It starts on the front page under the headline New links in Kristich murder, and continues on page three with the photograph of the Jakarta bar and another of a foolish-looking Potgeiter.

  ‘I don’t get her harping on about the Potgeiter bloke,’ Deb says. ‘He’s only a local councillor. What does she think he’s up to? Should we be interested in him?’

  ‘Hm.’

  ‘And where did she get that Jakarta stuff from? Why do I get the feeling that she has better sources than we do?’

  ‘Hm.’

  ‘What’s the matter, Harry? You don’t seem to be with us today. Pump up, princess.’

  With all the police vehicles in Mortimer Street and on the adjoining main road, they have to park some distance away. They register with the scene manager at the barrier formed outside the clubhouse gates, where a few press are waiting, taking their pictures as they enter. Inside the courtyard they have to wait for clearance from the crime scene team who are still working at several locations inside the building. Eventually they are given protective clothing and taken inside along a ribboned route as far as the kitchen, where they can examine the panel door behind the fridge. It’s cleverly fitted and hinged so that it is difficult to spot. Harry thinks of some of the ingenious cupboard fittings in Greg and Nicole’s house.

  But that’s as far as they can go. The whole area beyond the opening is still being worked over by forensics. Frustrated, Deb leads the way back out. As they make their way down Mortimer Street, she says, ‘Isn’t that your girlfriend?’

  Kelly is standing outside one of the little houses, staring up at the windows on the upper floor.

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t call her that, Deb.’

  ‘Yeah I know. Why don’t you charm her into telling us where she got that Jakarta photo from?’

  As they approach her Kelly turns and recognises them. ‘Hello inspector, sergeant. What’s going on down there?’

  ‘Seems congratulations are in order,’ Deb says. ‘Hope your package covers legal representation. You know, in case you find yourself charged with withholding evidence material to a police investigation.’

  Kelly smiles at her. ‘I thought I was trying to support your investigations with my own modest efforts.’

  Harry says, ‘We’d like to know where you got that Jakarta photograph from, Kelly.’

  ‘I’ll tell you if you tell me who murdered Roman Bebchuk here last night,’ she replies brightly.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be telling us that before
too long,’ Deb snarls and marches on. Harry nods at Kelly as he follows.

  When they get back they begin the long round of interviews, trying to tease out fragments of fact from the mainly incoherent accounts of the bikies. Harry is, as always, fascinated and gratified by the variety. There was just the one assailant, or maybe six. He was very tall or almost stunted, dark haired or blond, face covered by a death’s-head mask, a scarf or nothing at all. Outside the room, observers are taking notes and passing them on to the information pool where analysts are attempting to place each individual on the ground and map their movements.

  By evening everyone is exhausted. A number of bikies have not yet been accounted for, but they will have to keep. There is a meal break and at seven they assemble for another briefing.

  Inspector Wagstaff takes charge. He appears to have had a shower and a change of clothes and is the freshest-looking person in the room.

  ‘Right,’ he says, rapping his knuckles on the table. ‘Let’s get on with it. We have conducted fifty-two bikie interviews and taken statements from a further seventeen eyewitnesses. A further six bikies have been identified but not yet contacted.

  ‘Regarding the scene at the Swagman Hotel…’ He clicks his button and a large plan of the hotel forecourt appears on the screen, covered in numbered circles. ‘These are the probable positions of our interviewees at the time of the attack. The victims, Capp and Haddad, together with Bebchuk, are here, and the killers are approaching them from the north-east direction here. There are most likely two or three assailants—accounts vary. At least one was armed with a 9 millimetre handgun, another possibly with a baseball bat. The altercation occurred in this area, leaving the victims here, as we know.

  ‘Okay, facial composites. This is Suspect A, the one with the handgun which killed Haddad.’

  Harry holds his breath as the screen goes blank, before four identikit faces appear, and then he takes a deep breath. It’s hard to see himself in any of them.

  ‘We think picture two is closest to our man.’

  Thanks, guys, Harry thinks. Picture two is a demonic face of vaguely Middle Eastern appearance. Another four images hit the screen, and a chill goes through him.

  ‘This is Suspect B, the baseball-bat-wielding man who clubbed Capp…’ Two of the faces look very like Tony Gemmell. ‘Most probably images one and two.’

  Those are the ones. Harry is gripped by a feeling of dread. He is like an angel of death, dragging people into his lethal wake.

  ‘On the other hand, they look like at least half the bikies there that night,’ Wagstaff adds, and gets a few laughs, because the pony-tailed, scowling grey-beard looks like everybody’s image of an outlaw motor cyclist. ‘The images for a possible third suspect are too varied to be reliable.

  ‘Now. The camera images. We have a number to choose from of two riders on the M4 eastbound between 20:21 at Penrith and 20:45 at Homebush, the lead rider unhelmeted. He’s the lead rider, and here and here. Roman Bebchuk.

  ‘And following him, about a hundred metres behind, is the second rider, who we believe to be Suspect A.’

  A series of pictures come up, some in enlargement of the head and shoulders. Harry made a point of dipping his head at intersections and camera poles, and the helmet helps to obscure the upper part of his face, but there’s still plenty to work on.

  ‘We’re getting enhancements made of the best of these,’ Wagstaff says. Everyone is leaning forward in their seats, intently studying the images. Harry feels his face tingling.

  ‘And now we come to something interesting,’ Wagstaff says with a grim smile. ‘A forensics result, at last. It seems that the Crows aren’t that hot on housekeeping—plenty of dust on the floor for crime scene to pick up footprints. They’ve identified fifteen different recent footprints in the clubhouse, one of which is a match for…’ he pauses for another smile, ‘a partial print found at the Kristich murder scene in the Gipps Tower, belonging to neither Kristich nor Lavulo.’

  There is a brief moment of silence as people take this in, then a communal sigh of revelation.

  ‘Forensics are working on a detailed analysis, but they are confident that this footprint at the clubhouse was made by one of the last people to leave the building before the police arrived. In other words, it could well belong to Suspect A, who, it then follows, was in the Kristich office at or close to the time of the two killings there.’

  Wagstaff nods his head as murmurs of appreciation ripple around the room.

  ‘Hypotheses?’ he asks, then answers himself. ‘Hypothesis number one: the murders of Bebchuk and Haddad, and also perhaps Thomas O’Brian, Benjamin Lavulo and maybe Kristich himself, were the work of a rival gang trying to move in on the Crows’ territory and drug market. We can add Capp to that list—the hospital don’t think he’ll survive. Hypothesis number two: it was the work of a clique within the Crows, perhaps including former members who were ousted when Bebchuk took over. Hypothesis number three: it was the work of a third party.

  ‘Our priorities? Firstly, to identify and apprehend suspects A, B, and, if he exists, C.

  ‘In relation to that, we need to gather more CCTV footage, for example in the Creek area to track Suspect A’s movements after he left Mortimer Street.

  ‘We need to re-examine all of the material on the Gipps Tower killings. Strike Force Gemini was never able to establish how Lavulo, and now Suspect A, were able to enter the building and reach the crime scene, and now, in the case of Suspect A, leave again, without leaving a trace on their CCTV and entry systems.

  ‘We need to track down the remaining bikies at the Swagman Hotel and identify from among all those interviewed a priority list of those we can put pressure on to gain information about the Crows and their rival organisations.’

  He looks around the room. ‘Anything else?’

  A moment’s silence, and then, as he begins to gather up his papers, Deb puts her hand up.

  ‘Inspector Velasco?’

  ‘If there was a third man in the Kristich offices that night, it’s possible that Kristich’s girlfriend might have seen him. At any rate, she knows more than she’s told us.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he says dismissively, ‘she’ll have to be reinterviewed of course.’

  ‘And it’s possible that the third man may have removed something from the office when he left—a file, a memory stick, a camera.’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible. Why?’

  ‘Because the reporter Kelly Pool appears to have information and photographs that must have come from a source very close to Kristich. She also knew that the name of the person killed with Kristich was Lavulo. Perhaps the third man has been her source. Perhaps he has been in contact with her. Perhaps she has seen him, or heard his voice.’

  ‘All right,’ Wagstaff concedes. ‘Why don’t you follow that up, Deb? Right everyone, a good day’s work, but much, much more to do. I don’t need to remind you that this is receiving the highest priority. The eyes of the commissioner and the government are upon us.’

  As the meeting breaks up, Deb says to Harry, ‘Okay, let’s go and have a talk with Pool.’

  Harry checks his watch. He badly needs to talk to Tony Gemmell, and says, ‘Let’s le
ave it till tomorrow, Deb. I’m buggered.’

  ‘A chat to your girlfriend’ll perk you up. Come on.’

  She gets the number of the Times offices and asks for Kelly Pool. When she’s told Kelly’s not available she asks to speak to the editor. She’s put through to Catherine Meiklejohn.

  ‘Can I ask what it’s in connection with?’

  ‘We urgently need to speak to Ms Pool concerning the recent deaths in the Gipps Tower, Ms Meiklejohn. We believe she can assist us with our enquiries.’

  ‘I see. Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you. She was due here for an editorial meeting two hours ago and she hasn’t shown up, and can’t be contacted on her home or mobile phones. We don’t know what’s happened to her.’

  ‘Can you give me her contact details please?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I can.’

  It takes some persistence on Deb’s part, but eventually Meiklejohn relents. Deb tries the numbers herself. No result. Kelly’s mobile is switched off and her landline rings out.

  ‘Do you think she’s done a runner?’

  ‘Why would she? She’s probably hot on some story and’ll come bouncing back tomorrow.’

  Reluctantly Deb decides to let it go for now. They drive back to headquarters and Harry checks out. As soon as he is clear of the building he calls Tony Gemmell.

  ‘Harry. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. The papers are full of it.’

  ‘So you know Bebchuk and Haddad are dead, Capp due to follow.’

  ‘They had it coming, mate. You comfortable with that?’