‘Funny story . . .’
‘Funny? Really?’
‘Well, figuratively speaking . . . I’ve been watching Gitt.’
A sour lump formed in Lexie’s throat.
‘You mean you could have brought him to me earlier, before he up and died? Now I’ll never know—’
Brad looked up from making an entry in his duty book. He continued to watch her.
‘Just let me finish . . . and remember, to be fair,’ Rex said. ‘He was one of our targets in an undercover operation I’ve got going. I had to be careful not to jeopardise our job. I was trying to figure out a way to get the uniform guys to approach Gitt, hold him for a bit so you could speak to him and not blow my cover. Gitt was a drug runner for a couple of suppliers we’re trying to identify. I’ve been sitting off Ugly Phil’s place since early this morning – that’s Gitt’s mate who he’s been staying with. It’s a stinking shithole in Granville.’
‘What happened to Gitt?’ Lexie asked, directing her attention away from Brad, who she could see flapping his arms around, wanting to know what was going on.
‘I was getting to that,’ Rex said, rather impatiently. ‘This morning when I was sitting in the car outside Ugly’s, I hadn’t been there long when he came bolting out of the house totally freaking out. Took off down the street and . . . anyway, to cut a long story short, I’ve since learned that Gitt and Ugly had a hit of smack before going to bed last night. Little Gitt didn’t wake up. He must have overdosed some time during the night.’
Lexie shook her head to get some clarity. She was confused. Rex talked fast and often in riddles. If he was sitting off the house, she wondered how Rex knew all this.
‘I wondered if Gitt’s death might be suspicious at first. I thought he might be wrapped up in your murder investigation. I thought there was a chance he’d been given a hot-shot – that maybe he knew too much or something. But I don’t think so. Gitt was a bad druggie. Apparently he’s overdosed lots of times. He’d just been lucky in the past that the ambos had got to him with the magical drug Narcan, to reverse the effects of the heroin before it was too late.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Lexie couldn’t help but ask.
‘I was getting to that . . .’
Brad grabbed Lexie’s arm from across the desk and mouthed, ‘What’s going on?’
He had to know everything. It was infuriating. Lexie shrugged and pushed his hand away.
Rex continued: ‘When I saw Ugly Phil come running out of the house, freaking out, I knew something was up. I threw on a cap and pretended I was just some random passer-by and went in to help.’
Rex sounded pleased with himself, Lexie thought.
‘Ugly was distraught. He only wanted someone, anyone, to help. Though there was no helping Little Gitt by that stage. He was as blue as they come and as stiff as a board.’
Lexie’s mind automatically formed a mental image.
‘I told Ugly I’d take care of everything. He was a mess. So while Ugly was outside the house crying like a girl, I searched Gitt, found a shitload of oxys and a bit of heroin on him. I took his wallet. Guess what I found inside it?’
Lexie was trying to take it all in.
‘What?’
‘Five prescriptions for OxyContin all made out to different names – they were all Gitt’s aliases.’
Rex paused.
‘The doctor’s name on each prescription is the same. They were issued by R. Bream.’
Lexie’s jaw dropped open. This just kept getting more convoluted.
‘You are a genius. That’s fantastic. Can we . . . ?’
She didn’t get to finish her sentence; Rex seemingly read her mind.
‘I’ll meet you in the usual place in an hour,’ Rex said, then promptly hung up.
CHAPTER 35
Rex took the takeaway coffee from Lexie’s outstretched hand and gestured for her to sit beside him on the park bench.
Lexie shook her head and did a little dance on the spot.
‘It’s too cold to sit.’
Rex had suggested they meet at their ‘usual spot’ at Centennial Park. The reason being, it was a cold and miserable winter’s day. Most sensible people would remain indoors in these conditions. That was his point. It lessened the likelihood they would be spotted together. A big, tough-looking ex-bikie conferring with an attractive female detective was no way to stay under the radar.
But Lexie was unimpressed by their location.
‘I get why you wanted to meet me in a secluded spot, but couldn’t you have picked somewhere out of this ridiculous weather?’ Lexie complained. ‘It feels like it could snow at any minute.’
As if on cue a gust of wind, sounding more like a ghostly moan, howled through the trees.
‘Snow in Sydney? Now that would be a first,’ Rex retorted, gruffly. ‘Why is it all women are full of nothing but complaints?’
Rex followed Lexie’s gaze as she looked up at the grey sky scattered with treacherous-looking rain clouds, and frowned.
‘Sit down, woman,’ he demanded. ‘Your prancing on the spot is making me nervous.’
‘Just trying to keep from freezing,’ she shot back, reluctantly taking a seat next to him.
Rex laughed at the pained expression on her face.
‘You bloody detectives need to toughen up,’ he teased.
Lexie was a good cop. He loved to ruffle her feathers, stir her up, because deep down he knew she could take it. Rex was aware of what Lexie had been through. She had endured more than most people could deal with and had not only survived, but come out on top. It was one of the reasons he had the utmost respect for her.
A pair of geese began a squawking chorus as they chased each other into the duck pond in front of them. There were many ponds scattered throughout the park. This one was aptly named ‘Duck Pond’. Rex had purposely steered away from ‘Willow Pond’, just a stone’s throw away, when choosing their location to meet. He didn’t need to revisit the place where his daughter, Sandy, had almost lost her life to the brutality of Harry Burgh and Sue Field.
Rot in hell . . .
He pushed away the image of Sandy in the hospital attached to monitors and tubes.
‘So, where is this Ugly Phil? And is he really ugly?’ Lexie asked.
‘Butt ugly,’ Rex confirmed. ‘He’s got a head like a smacked arse. I’ve got another undercover watching him. He’s not going anywhere, but I need to tread carefully so we don’t jeopardise our own operation.’
Having completed the undercover course and having participated in a number of covert operations, Lexie knew how protective operatives could be of their information. A lot of time and effort went into building up jobs by cultivating informants, gathering intelligence and undertaking surveillance of targets. The last thing the undercover guys wanted was another police operation to get in the way.
‘So, can you tell me what Gitt was selling?’ Lexie asked Rex.
‘A bit of everything; heroin, meth, sometimes coke if he could get his hands on it. The heroin on the street has dried up a bit, so they’ve been making a buck selling oxys.’
Rex had Lexie’s full attention.
‘We’re looking at the bigger picture, as you can imagine. We want the importers. Or at least the dealers further up the food chain. We’ve been watching Gitt and Ugly, amongst others—’
Unexpectedly Lexie grabbed Rex’s arm, interrupting him.
‘Has Gitt been staying with Ugly for long?’
Rex thought for a moment.
‘I’ve been tailing them for over a week. The job has just started so . . . yeah, it would be a week and a half and they’ve been together pretty much the whole time. Why?’
Lexie looked thoughtful.
‘If Gitt has been staying with this Ugly Phil at Granville, he wasn’t sleeping at Clovelly Beach the night my victim was murdered. That means he couldn’t have seen Zack, or anyone else, near the crime scene.’
Rex had no idea what she was talking about. Lexi
e gave him a funny look.
‘Don’t worry, just talking to myself. Apparently it’s becoming a bad habit of mine. Sorry to interrupt, go on.’
‘What was I saying? Oh, yeah. In the process of watching these two little cretins, I’ve discovered that they are not only selling the heavy stuff but they’re also dealing desperate druggies oxys. We didn’t know where Gitt was getting the pills from, though.’
‘And you do now?’ Lexie asked, hopefully.
Rex sipped on his coffee while Lexie cradled hers like it was a heater between her hands.
‘We’ve had intercepts on both their phones for about a week but we didn’t get a lot from that. Though after today . . .’
Rex shook his head as he thought about that morning; how he’d had to think on his feet, make up a whole series of lies so as not to compromise the job. Being undercover required quick thinking and ‘the gift of the gab’. Circumstances could alter quickly and you had to be flexible, able to change your cover story in an instant to establish or sustain credibility.
‘I wasn’t supposed to be seen. I was supposed to just be watching Ugly’s house, follow them when they left, make sure they didn’t return in a hurry. We were hoping to get a listening device installed in the place that afternoon. But when I saw Ugly all agitated I knew something was up. Anyway, so as not to look suspect, I told Ugly the biggest load of bullshit.’
Rex started laughing.
‘Luckily the bloke’s as dumb as dog shit and he believed everything I said.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I got him believing I’m some kind of lord of the underworld who just happened to be passing by when I discovered Little Gitt had overdosed. Ugly Phil ended up dishing up about their drug racket with hardly any prompting. If I work him right, it won’t be long before he’s telling me everything he knows. I told him I’d take him under my wing. I told him I’d get rid of the body so he wouldn’t come under police notice. I’ve promised him big things if he can prove to be my loyal servant.’
Rex laughed again.
‘We’ve had to change our game plan, alter tactics a bit, but it’s actually worked out better than we could have predicted.’
‘Real life Underbelly, hey?’
‘Something like that. What I’ve managed to figure out so far is that Gitt was the mastermind and Ugly was the gofer. He did what he was told. What the little scumbag Gitt had been doing was raiding letterboxes and collecting other people’s mail: electricity bills, water bills, phone bills, Medicare cards, credit cards and whatever else. Once he’d acquired enough documentation, he built himself a false identity. He’d return to the same letterboxes every few weeks and when he had enough points he’d open a bank account and get a driver’s licence in the name of whoever lived at the address he had raided and whose names were on the bills. Gitt had five different aliases that I know of. He possibly has more that we don’t know about.’
‘Clever,’ was all Lexie could think to say.
‘Of course these prescriptions are made out in the name of Gitts’s aliases.’
Rex handed her a number of driver’s licences and credit cards. The driver’s licences all showed a photo of Little Gitt and were all in different names.
Lexie shuffled through them.
‘Gitt was certainly a lot smarter than he looked.’
‘He was,’ Rex agreed, handing her a number of scrunched up prescriptions. ‘That doctor’s name is on each one of the scripts. You can keep them. I think your investigation needs that bit of evidence more than we do.’
‘Thanks. I can’t wait to ask Bream about these when they bring him in.’
‘Is that likely to happen any time soon?’ Rex asked.
Lexie smiled and sipped on her coffee.
‘I’m hoping so.’
She looked down at the scripts in her hand.
‘Gitt was going chemist shopping, I assume.’
‘You guessed it. Of course, he was getting the scripts filled at different chemists around Sydney to avert suspicion. Then he’d sell the tablets, the oxys, separately. He was making a killing.’
‘Nice little scheme he had going . . .’
Lexie brushed wisps of hair from her face as the wind whirled in circles around them.
Pulling out a phone from his pocket, Rex handed it to her.
‘Did I tell you I also managed to pinch Little Gitt’s phone?’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘I know. You don’t have to tell me how good I am.’
Rex was very pleased with his impromptu work this morning.
‘As I said, Ugly Phil is an oxygen thief but one thing he could tell me was that Gitt was getting the scripts from a girl named Natalia. There is a Natalia in his list of phone contacts.’
‘I’m impressed,’ Lexie announced. ‘Tell me more.’
There was a loud squawk behind Lexie that startled her and she jumped. She turned quickly, checking over her shoulder. The sudden movement caused her long ponytail to snap across her face like a blonde whip. Seeing it was a pair of geese fighting over a piece of bread, she let out a long breath.
Rex placed his hand on her arm.
‘It’s okay. No one is here but us,’ he reassured her.
He understood the reason behind her hyper-vigilance. ‘Anyway, what was I saying before we were so rudely interrupted by these birds?’
‘Geese,’ Lexie corrected.
‘Same thing.’
Rex gave them a cursory glance and then cringed.
‘Geese bite, don’t they? I hate animals that bite.’
Lexie started to laugh.
‘Don’t tell me big bad Rex Donaldson is scared of a little goose?’ she teased.
Rex grunted, ‘I think you mean geese. There is more than one.’
Lexie shrugged. ‘Go on, what were you saying?’
Rex continued, though he kept his gaze on the screeching geese that were advancing towards them.
‘Apparently Gitt rings this Natalia when he needs more scripts. The scripts are delivered to a post office box at Maroubra and made out in the names of his many aliases. Gitt picks them up from the PO box and leaves Natalia cash for the scripts. There is no contact between this Natalia and Gitt other than by the phone.’
Lexie edged forward on the wooden seat.
‘That’s fantastic, Rex. I know you’ll need Gitt’s phone for your job, but when you get a chance to go through it, if anything interesting turns up . . .’
‘Don’t worry. I will let you know . . .’
Rex could almost see Lexie’s brain calculating and devising a plan of attack. He wondered if it would be the same as his.
‘What are you thinking, Detective Rogers?’
‘Can I get Natalia’s number so I can do some checks?’
Rex handed her a piece of paper with a number scribbled on it.
‘I’m one step ahead of you, detective.’
‘Got anything else?’ Lexie asked, hopefully.
‘As a matter of fact . . .’
Rex gave her a broad smile.
‘Ugly also told me that this Natalia – if that’s her real name – paid Gitt to steal a bloke’s wallet and then hand in the Medicare card to the cops to place him near a murder scene. She also paid him to give false information to the police. Does that sound like it fits with your investigation?’
Lexie gasped and cried, ‘This “Natalia” has tried to set Zack up. That would have to mean she knows him. Like you told me, Gitt was nowhere near the crime scene. This links whoever is supplying the prescriptions to our murder investigation.’
Rex laughed at the excitement that lit up her face, then asked, ‘Who is Zack?’
Lexie waved her hand in the air dismissively. ‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Oh, Rex, this is gold.’
‘Glad to be of service,’ he said, just as a goose nipped at his boots. ‘Piss off!’
He shooed the goose away and stamped his foot on the ground. It squawked back at him in protest.
Lexie started
to laugh again.
‘I can’t believe you’re scared of geese.’
‘I’m not scared. I just don’t like them.’
Lexie jumped up suddenly and, stamping her own feet on the ground, chased the geese into the pond.
‘There, now you can concentrate,’ she told him, once again joining Rex on the bench. ‘What do you think of this as a game plan: we get Ugly Phil to call Natalia, using Gitt’s phone. Ugly can tell her that Gitt was mugged, badly bashed. Probably best not to mention that he’s dead – that might scare her. But he can say that during the mugging, the pills were stolen along with the scripts, and now Gitt is desperate for more scripts. Hopefully she will agree to deliver more of them, then, when she drops off the scripts at the post office, we can nab her. You can monitor Gitt’s phone line from your end and I’ll get a telephone intercept on this “Natalia’s” number.’
Rex nodded as she spoke. He was impressed.
‘I’d thought of a similar plan myself. It sounds perfect.’
They exchanged a dubious look. Perfect plans rarely panned out.
‘You are going to need a point of contact; someone, other than me, who you can say gave you this information.’
Rex handed Lexie a business card.
‘I’ve lined up my supervisor, Ron Barrington, to be your informant. That way, you can tell your boss you and Ron are old friends, work associates, whatever, and that he came across this information as part of his own investigation and passed it on to you. Then my position won’t be compromised.’
Lexie glanced at the card with Detective Sergeant Ron Barrington’s contact details printed on it underneath the police insignia and crest.
‘I’ll be the one looking after Ugly Phil,’ Rex continued.
They discussed tactics, possibilities and mulled over different scenarios for an imminent operation until Lexie complained she could no longer feel her fingers or toes.
‘Thanks so much for this information, Rex. How can I ever repay you?’
‘You can’t. I’m just being nice to you in the hope it will ease my guilt over putting you in hospital the first time we met.’
‘I think saving my life made up for that.’
‘Yeah, but you brought my daughter back to me.’
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