‘All the boys are in their prep classes at seven p.m.’
‘Prep?’ Cardilini asked.
‘Preparatory. Time for the boys to complete homework and do general study in their form classrooms.’
‘So there is no one about the grounds?’
‘There shouldn’t be. A roll is taken, the boys sit in their forms and teachers are present.’
‘Which form were you responsible for?’
‘I was the duty-boarding master. I was in the staffroom.’
‘That’s the room next along from the principal’s offices. Windows facing the quadrangle?’
‘That’s right. I was doing some marking. No students were sent down for discipline.’
‘What happens when they’re disciplined?’
‘Depends on the teacher.’
‘Just give me a range then?’
Abbott took a quick glance at Salt who was busy with his notebook. ‘They can be caned. Some teachers give them a sharp smack on the head, others give them detention.’
‘What do you do?’
‘What I feel is justified,’ Abbott said, straightening his shoulders.
‘Continue with the evening.’
‘It was quiet. At eight the second form finished prep and went to the boarding house. I went over and to make sure they had gone to the bathroom and were ready for bed. At eight-thirty I spoke to them to make sure they were all in bed and then I turned the lights out.’
‘What did you say to them?’
‘I’m not sure. What I say depends on what’s been happening. It could have been about an upcoming sporting or academic event. It could’ve been anything. I’m just trying to settle them down.’
‘Then what?’
‘I stayed in the boarding house for the rest of the night, mostly in my duty teacher’s room. It’s on the second level of the building to the left from here.’
‘Are all the boarders housed there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Go on.’
Abbott continued recounting how the third through to the fifth form went to bed. He added, ‘The sixth form are given more leeway in organising their own study timetable due to their exams. But it’s lights out for them at eleven.’
‘Did you see Captain Edmund that evening?’
‘No, he wasn’t on duty that night.’
‘Did you hear or see anything unusual?’ Cardilini asked.
‘Yes. There was shooting across the river. It wasn’t particularly loud but my room faces the street. At one point the boys whose dormitories faced the quadrangle were creating a ruckus.’
‘At what time was that?’
‘Just before eleven. I went to quieten the fourth formers on the second level.’
‘What was it about?’
‘Sometimes the retort of the shooting can sound very close. Sound can travel in funny ways. They settled. I went to several other dorms on the second level and I could hear senior boys downstairs doing the same thing. I was back in my room by eleven forty-five. I don’t have to get up for sports in the morning but the boys were abuzz when they were showering. I had to quieten them. Then I heard about poor Captain Edmund. I hope this will be sufficient to cease the roo-shooting.’
‘It was. Was Captain Edmund liked by the boys?’ Cardilini asked.
‘Being liked isn’t a wise aspiration for a teacher in a boarding school.’
‘How did the boys regard him?’
‘They respected him. He was very thorough, very fair I think, but would not tolerate any nonsense or …’ Abbott sought for words.
‘Or?’
‘The boys had to behave like young men, not children. He didn’t like boys who weren’t loyal or didn’t fit in.’
‘Could you give me an example?’
‘Captain Edmund expected the boys should all muck in and not think themselves special.’
‘How did he go about this?’
Abbott gave a quick look at Salt before speaking, ‘Just normal punishment. He is – was – a tougher teacher than me.’
‘Are you an old boy?’
‘No.’
‘Do you have any doubt in your mind that this was an accidental shooting?’
‘No.’
‘If Captain Edmund discovered the armoury broken into and a rifle missing, the same night the canteen was broken into, how do you think he would proceed?’
‘The canteen break-in was weeks ago. It was local louts. And it’s not the first time. He would have reported it straightaway. He would take that sort of thing personally. But it wasn’t broken into so there wasn’t a rifle missing.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘They have cadets just about every day of the week, they march with their rifles.’
‘Each boy has a rifle?’
‘I don’t know, but it would be obvious if one was missing.’
‘Would it?’
‘Yes, with the competitions, the shooting competitions. A number of years running our boys won the Schoolboys’ State Marksman Awards.’
‘How about that?’ Cardilini mused observing Abbott, ‘Any other questions we had for Mr Abbott, Salt?’
‘The keys to the armoury,’ Salt said.
‘I’ve told Dr Braun this already. Captain Edmund didn’t keep the keys to the armoury in his room. It’s possible some of the senior cadets might know where they are.’
‘Got that, Salt?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Great. Thank you, Mr Abbott,’ Cardilini said, standing.
‘I’ve been instructed to get Carmody when I leave. May I ask why you chose Carmody?’
‘Random selection.’
Abbott stood and glanced again at Salt. Cardilini walked with Abbott to the door, shook his hand and returned to his chair.
‘Can I ask what you are thinking, sir?’ Salt asked.
‘I’m thinking speculation is not necessarily good police work. No more speculation, Salt. Let’s just follow facts.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You haven’t changed your style of note taking, I hope.’
‘No, sir.’
***
Carmody entered the room and stood for a moment, scrutinising Salt with expressionless brown eyes. He then walked to the front and sat on a desk.
‘Carmody,’ he announced.
Cardilini smiled broadly, taking in the handsome, even features and dark hair. ‘Thank you. I chose names at random just so I could get a sense of what boarders recalled of the evening.’
‘I would have thought I was randomly selected because I had a falling out with Captain Edmund,’ Carmody replied coolly.
‘Really?’ Cardilini said with a look to Salt, ‘That sounds like a good reason, too.’
Carmody gave a brief glance to Salt before saying, ‘Let me save you some time. It was an accidental shooting, from across the river.’
‘You heard the shooting?’
‘We all heard it.’
‘One shot in particular?’
‘One shot in particular at about eleven p.m. sounded close, but then they do at times,’ Carmody said.
‘The inversion layer?’
‘That’s right, sound bounces off a heavy layer of moist air.’
‘So. No doubt?’ Cardilini asked.
‘No doubt.’
‘Do you think it’s possible that if someone knew this, they could disguise their own rifle fire?’ Cardilini asked.
‘No. We’re all farmers’ sons, a shot this side of the river, if you’re suggesting that, would be too obvious,’ Carmody replied with steady eyes on Cardilini.
‘And the falling out with Captain Edmund, what was that about?’
‘He wasn’t strictly a captain,’ Carmody corrected.
‘Okay. The falli
ng out?’
‘A dispute over the use of the term, “loyalty”.’
‘Go on,’ Cardilini said and affected an interested expression.
‘He considered loyalty to be strictly defined according to his parameters. I saw it differently. It was unresolvable. He spoke against my nomination for head boy because of it.’
‘Were you bitter about that?’ Cardilini asked tilting his head.
‘Annoyed, rather, that the other staff were bullied by him.’
‘Bullied?’
‘He was loud. Overbearing. Machiavellian. He didn’t like to be crossed,’ Carmody replied.
‘Why did you speak to my constable?’
‘Your presence here isn’t doing anything for the boys’ stability, it’s leading to misunderstanding and speculation.’
‘Are you in the cadets?’
‘I was.’
‘Until?’
‘The disagreement at the end of last year.’
‘Do you know where the keys to the armoury are kept?’ Cardilini asked.
Carmody didn’t answer.
Cardilini continued. ‘How would a team of men breaking the armoury door down suit the stability of the boys?’
‘I can show you where the keys are. It won’t do you any good,’ Carmody replied.
‘Did you know a rifle was stolen?’ Cardilini asked.
‘Was it reported?’
‘I don’t think it was.’
‘Then it wasn’t stolen. I think you will find all rifles accounted for,’ Carmody said.
‘How would you know?’
‘I know – knew – Mr Edmund.’
‘Did you know that from a study of a bullet we could reveal the specific gun that fired it?’ Cardilini asked.
‘But you would need the bullet,’ Carmody replied and then added, ‘I’ll show you where the keys are if you like.’
‘First get Mossop, then show the constable their location,’ Cardilini instructed.
‘Mossop will be worse than useless,’ Carmody said, ‘unless you want to talk to the stupidest boy in the school.’
‘It might be a pleasant change.’
Carmody looked steadily at Cardilini then turned and left.
‘Arrogant prick,’ Cardilini said.
‘Yes, sir. Do you think all the rifles will be there?’
‘Don’t know. But I bet they’ve all been cleaned recently.’
‘Are you developing a theory, sir?’
‘Can’t help it,’ Cardilini replied.
‘How did he know there isn’t a bullet?’
‘One of the boys overheard a conversation. They could’ve even overheard the super. I’ve done it myself. For some reason I thought children didn’t listen or aren’t interested. Big mistake.’
‘I thought he might have it,’ Salt said.
‘That means he would have been the first to the room.’
‘Yes, sir. I wouldn’t put anything past him,’ Salt said looking towards the door sharply.
‘Speculating, Salt? Tut, tut,’ Cardilini said.
***
‘Mossop,’ Carmody announced.
‘Thanks, now go with Constable Salt,’ Cardilini said.
Mossop had a face like a dinner plate. His eyes were wide apart, his close-cropped hair highlighting ears growing like mushrooms from his large head. A broad mouth was forced permanently open by wayward teeth clasped in large steel braces. He stood in the doorway, legs spread like a sailor.
‘Mossop, let’s go for a walk.’ Cardilini walked past Mossop out to the quadrangle and stood on the lawn.
Mossop stared at him wide-eyed before joining him, ‘We’re not allowed on the lawn,’ he said spinning his head around to see if anyone was watching.
‘You don’t have a choice.’
Cardilini walked to the centre of the quadrangle with Mossop following and sat on a low wall encircling a large lemon-scented gum tree. ‘Take a seat.’
Mossop sat a little distance from Cardilini, still looking around to see who was watching.
‘I want you to see something,’ Cardilini said, pulling the sketch from his pocket, ‘The other night you placed this at the base of that tree. Why?’
‘No I didn’t,’ Mossop answered sharply.
‘Your name’s on it,’ Cardilini said.
‘No it’s not.’ Cardilini turned the sheet over. ‘Oh. That side. Yeah, well,’ Mossop said.
‘You were seen.’
‘No we weren’t.’
‘Placing a rock on it.’
‘Who saw us?’ Mossop asked.
‘Does it matter?’
‘I want to know who dobbed.’
‘It wasn’t a student,’ Cardilini replied.
‘Oh. Will I get into trouble?’
‘What does it mean?’
Mossop looked around before indicating the lemon-scented gum tree under which they sat, ‘These trees drop their branches.’
Cardilini turned and looked up at the tree, ‘When?’
‘Anytime they haven’t enough water.’
‘Stupid place for it then,’ Cardilini said.
‘That’s what my dad said,’ Mossop said smiling.
‘So what does this sketch mean?’ Cardilini persisted.
‘What?’ Mossop asked, looking to the tree.
‘The sketch.’
Mossop pondered for a moment, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Why do it then?’
‘We saw another one and thought it meant something, so we did one too.’
‘But yours is different.’
‘No it’s not,’ Mossop replied affronted.
‘What do you think it means?’
‘No idea. Aren’t you going to ask me about Captain Edmund?’ Mossop asked enthusiastically.
‘What would I ask?’
‘If it was a shooting accident?’
‘Was it?’
‘Yes,’ Mossop replied sharply very pleased with himself.
Cardilini looked at Mossop for a moment before asking, ‘What did Carmody say to you?’
‘He said not to disgrace myself.’
‘He didn’t tell you anything else?’
‘No.’
Cardilini looked across to the boarders’ dormitory block, the broad tall windows with limestone surrounds and a giant portico. He wondered what brief the architects were given and wondered the effect these grand traditional surrounds would have on a growing child.
‘How do you know it was a shooting accident?’ He asked.
‘Everyone says so.’
‘Carmody?’ Cardilini asked.
‘Yes.’
‘You respect Carmody?’
‘Yes. Everyone does. He won’t even let the teachers hurt you, like Mr Willet, who would always slap me on the side of my head. One time when Willet hit me, Carmody said to him, “Mr Willet, I think that’s enough, don’t you?” Then he told me not to use Mr Willet’s nickname anymore.’
‘Did Mr Willet stop hitting you?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s his nickname?’
Mossop, surprised, said, ‘I’m not allowed to say it.’
Cardilini nodded and smiled. He turned his eye around the quadrangle again. Did these grounds, buildings, uniforms and traditions tell the students they were special, superior, destined to lead those that attended the crumbling, asbestos-ridden public schools? The buildings were certainly telling Cardilini that he hadn’t taken his education seriously. In fact, apart from a few students and fewer teachers, no one had taken education seriously at his school. Did anyone ever mention going on to university? He couldn’t remember. He smiled, acknowledging he was feeling envious of Carmody. No wonder he didn’t like him.
‘Good lad
,’ Cardilini said.
‘I’m thinking of being a policeman. Why don’t you wear a uniform?’ Mossop asked Cardilini.
‘I’m a detective.’
‘I’d wear a uniform, like Salt.’
‘You should talk to the constable then. Did the rifle shot startle you?’
‘No. I was asleep. We’re on the other side of the boarding house, but plenty heard it. They had to be sent back to bed.’
‘So, no ideas about what you drew? What if you were a policeman, what would you say?’ Cardilini asked.
‘I think it’s something to do with Lockheed. He was expelled,’ Mossop said a little sheepishly.
‘When was Lockheed expelled?’
‘Last year. Carmody stuck up for him.’
‘Was Lockheed a cadet?’ Cardilini asked.
‘Yes, sir.’
***
Cardilini had sent Mossop back to class and was still seated when Salt approached him.
‘You got the keys?’
‘Yes, sir,’ he replied, handing the keys to Cardilini.
‘Where were they?’
‘In a recess near the armoury door.’
‘That seems very lax.’
‘“Loyalty is stronger than locks.” Captain Edmund’s saying, sir.’
‘Where’s Carmody?’
‘Gone back to class.’
‘Did he speak to you?’
‘He’s quite serious about our presence causing speculation that’s unsettling to the school.’
‘Right. You didn’t go into the armoury, did you?’
‘No, sir.’
‘You go to the car. I’m going to stop by Edmund’s room.’
When Cardilini returned to the car he had an armful of files, ‘Off we go. I’ve some “prep” to do.’
Salt gave him a sideways glance, ‘Where to, sir?’
‘Home for me. You’d better go back to East Perth.’
Seventeen
Day 2
St Nicholas College
12.55 a.m. Monday, 26th October 1965
The boy heard voices coming from the boarding house. He withdrew behind the administration block. He wanted to run for the hockey field, but he stayed still and shrunk into the shadows. The voices stopped, his breathing stopped. He ran to the other end of the building and near the fire-escape steps he looked out into the quadrangle. He saw two figures, one creeping, the other walking slowly along the path near the gum trees. He recognised the walking figure. Both soon disappeared into the dark beneath the gums. He watched, breathless, with the shape sharp in his palm. He searched the shadows, and saw movement again, both figures walking briskly towards the canteen. One carried something long, narrow at one end and fat at the other: a rifle. He felt the bullet firm in his hand. If he ran behind the dining block that made the fourth side of the quadrangle he could watch them come down. He dashed into the shadow of the hockey field to avoid the light from the cloister. His feet felt like they weren’t touching the ground. He sprinted along the rear of the dining block to the far side of the science building which had the canteen, the woodwork department and the cadets’ armoury in its basement. Captain Edmund’s armoury.
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