Ford dropped it in the styrofoam cup on the table. He swilled it around in the dregs of coffee and listened to it hiss.
‘You really do lead some sort of charmed fucking life,’ said Eley. ‘There’s two women in the front office now, arguing about who you belong to. Lookers, both of them. Both telling me I’ve got no business questioning you any further. You’d better come out here before they start scratching each other.’
FOUR
As Ford walked down the bright corridor towards the door to the main office, he could hear voices through the toughened glass of the security door.Women’s voices: one angry and harsh, the other one calm, almost inaudible. He stopped at the door and peered through the wire glass, and Eley reached around him to punch the keypad. When the door opened the voices fell silent.
He noticed Kavanagh first, standing almost within touching distance of him. He smiled at her, but her face was locked in an expression of frustration that hadn’t changed with his arrival.
She had let her hair grow a little longer in the six months since he had last seen her. He could remember that day, standing in the corridor outside the courtroom after the inquiry. She had perjured herself to protect him, and kept quiet while the police whitewashed the enquiry, then she had simply left. He had watched her all the way to the exit, hoping she would turn around and look at him, but she hadn’t.
Her hair was still bleached a stark white, as pale as her skin. She wore a plain white T-shirt under a short red leather jacket, plus faded jeans and crimson cowboy boots. Ford looked at the Cuban heels on her boots and wondered if she was on duty. He was trying to calculate the travelling time for Kavanagh’s trip from Perth to Newman when the other woman stepped between them and thrust a hand towards him.
‘Mr Ford?’ she said, her voice loud and confident, as if pitched to be heard through closed doors. ‘My name is Lisa Romano. I work with Legal Affairs. The company asked me to come down and offer whatever help I can.’
He shook her hand; her grip was firm and practised. ‘I’m just fine,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure I need the company’s assistance just now.’
She was a handsome woman, easily Ford’s age, but with the sort of strong face that looked better with age. Her dark hair was coiled and pinned in a bun, strands hanging loose in curls around her face. Her cheekbones were as sharp as her nose, and her brown eyes sat behind frameless spectacles calculated to lend her gravitas. She wore dark blue jeans that looked as if they had been ironed that morning, and a plain white blouse with the company logo sewn above the breast pocket. Ford studied the embroidery until it became apparent to him that he was staring at her chest. A change in the tone of her voice made him concentrate on her eyes.
‘I must say I’m rather disappointed,’ she said.‘You shouldn’t have agreed to be questioned without legal representation.’
‘I didn’t know I had a lawyer.’
She gave him a smile devoid of any warmth. ‘I’ve been asking Constable Kopke here to allow me into the interview room and he’s been making some rather pathetic excuses in an attempt to prevent me.’
The young constable, who was standing at the duty desk, seemed bewildered. Romano was still talking. ‘This drama could have been avoided if you had called the company as soon as you were arrested.’
‘I wasn’t arrested,’ said Ford, looking past Romano and hoping for eye contact with Kavanagh, but she had walked towards the exit and was staring out of the window, her attention fixed on something distant. Ford turned to Romano. ‘I came in here voluntarily. I haven’t any reason to hide behind a lawyer. I found the body, that’s all.’
Romano scowled. She put her hand on Ford’s elbow, steering him away from the duty desk until their backs were turned on Eley and Kavanagh. She leaned in close and spoke quietly in his ear. Her perfume was cloying and smelled expensive.
‘The company is very concerned about the death of Mr Harding,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you have done everything to help with their enquiries, but the detective constable over there wants you to go with her.’
Ford glanced towards Kavanagh, but she was still looking out of the window.
‘I know DC Kavanagh,’ he said. ‘If I have to leave with her, that’s not a problem.’
Romano was whispering now, her head so close that a lock of her hair brushed against his face. ‘She says that she wants to question you about other matters. She won’t discuss them with me.’
‘Her and me, we have history.’
‘She says she’s from the Gold Stealing Detection Unit. Why would the Gold Squad have an interest in Mr Harding’s death?’
Ford studied her closely, trying to gauge how much she knew about the Gwardar robbery, wondering whether she’d had the opportunity to read up about him before she came out to the station. Her dark eyes gave nothing away, and he worried that might be a skill she’d honed as a lawyer. ‘I have no idea,’ he said, and waited to see if the expression in her eyes changed.
There wasn’t a flicker so he let the silence hang for a few moments before he spoke.
‘I think Sergeant Eley has asked me all the questions he needs to. I’ve agreed to be interviewed again by detectives when they arrive, so I’m happy to help DC Kavanagh however I can. I’m grateful for your time, but perhaps it would be put to better use helping Harding’s family.’
Eley stepped forward and cleared his throat theatrically. They turned to him, and he pulled himself upright. ‘I’d prefer to keep Ford at the station until we have eliminated him from our enquiries. We need to complete our canvass of the neighbours and have some indication from the doctor as to the cause of death.’
Romano put her face close to his and started telling him that if he wanted to keep Ford, he’d need to arrest him. Ford let the voices drift away and, as he looked at Kavanagh, she turned towards him and he lost his bearings in the room. The other people shrank away to a distant murmur and all that was left was her face. He searched her pale blue eyes for a sign from her, a hint of a smile or a twitch of an eyebrow that might acknowledge that she too felt trapped in the tedium and irrelevance of the conversation. Her mouth slowly pursed and twisted sideways into the smallest of smirks, but he didn’t know if it was for his benefit, since her eyes were on Eley. She could have been flirting or she could have been enjoying a private thought.
She swung her eyes in his direction and her smile widened for a second, then she put two fingers to her mouth and whistled, a long piercing shriek that echoed off the bare walls and made Kopke wince.
‘If I could have your attention for a minute,’ she said, her voice low and measured. Everyone in the room was facing her now. She made them wait as she rubbed the dust off the toe of her right boot down the back of her left leg.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Until detectives arrive from the coast to take charge of the investigation and interview Mr Ford, I think it best to let him go and get some sleep while uniform finish their door-to-door.’
‘I need to pick up my daughter,’ Ford said.
She looked at him and her eyes softened. She nodded. ‘You got somewhere to sleep?’
He shook his head.
‘I’ll take you to find somewhere.’
She spoke to Eley quietly and he put his hand in his pocket and handed her Ford’s phone. ‘Don’t leave town,’ he said to Ford.
Kavanagh went to the door and opened it, tilting her head towards Ford as an invitation for him to leave. Romano opened her mouth to speak but Kavanagh held up the palm of her hand and the lawyer closed her mouth, her shoulders slumping. Kavanagh waved Ford out the door, stepping out behind him into the heat of the afternoon sun.
Ford took three steps off the kerb then stopped and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. He lit one and pulled hard on it, then continued. He was halfway across the car park before it occurred to him that he didn’t know where he was going. Kavanagh was several paces behind him. She stopped and put her sunglasses on, mirrored aviators. Ford could see two of himself, distorted in
her lenses. He bent his knees a little so he could see himself better. He looked thinner than usual, sickly and pale. His thick greying hair was sticking up, matted with sweat, and his hollow cheeks were hidden behind a few days’ growth.There was red dust ground into the wrinkles on his face, a contrast against his green eyes. He made a habit of avoiding his reflection in harsh sunlight; he didn’t like being reminded how old he was getting, how his life was slipping away. It was like looking at someone else.
Kavanagh popped the locks on a white Toyota hatchback and Ford headed towards it. He pulled open the passenger door and folded himself down into the seat. The plastic sleeve containing the rental contract hung loosely from the dashboard and brushed against his knees, so he opened the glove box and stuffed it inside. He fumbled under the seat until he found the lever and pushed the seat back, but he still didn’t have enough leg room.
When he reached over his shoulder for the seat belt, he looked behind him and saw the blue Nissan Patrol parked down the street. It was a hundred metres away, facing towards them, under the shade of a jacaranda tree on the opposite side of the street.
Kavanagh took her seat but he didn’t look at her. He leaned forward a little until he could see the Nissan in the side mirror.
He could clearly make out two dark shadows in the front seats. The driver’s outline was big, his body a solid black rectangle; his head sat on his torso with no sign of a neck, reaching almost to the roof. The passenger was smaller, narrow, with a round head that made Ford think it was the man with the umbrella he’d seen on his street earlier. His heart raced and he took a deep breath.
Kavanagh started the engine and cranked up the air-conditioner. The cold air swirled up his arms and goosebumps erupted on his skin. They sat there and didn’t say anything for a while, waiting for the car to cool down and getting used to each other’s presence once again. She leaned forward to adjust the air-con controls and he caught her perfume, recognising the scent, a mixture of citrus with a warm rush of sandalwood.
She pulled out of the cark park, turning right, away from the Nissan. Her eyes kept straying to the rear-view mirror. Ford checked the side mirror and saw the blue car pull out and follow them, keeping a hundred metres behind, no other traffic on the road. Ford waited for her to mention it. When she stayed silent and the tension became palpable, he decided to speak first.
‘Eley didn’t put up much of a fight.’
She turned to look at him, then quickly returned her eyes to the mirror. ‘He had nothing on you,’ she said. ‘They checked what time you left the mine and spoke with your work colleagues.You have a solid alibi.’
‘So why was Eley trying to keep me at the station?’
She pursed her lips. ‘He was just fishing,’ she said. ‘He looked at your file and thought he had stumbled into something. Typical country copper wanting to play detective.’
‘But then a real detective shows up and pulls rank.’
He caught a small smile flash across her face. ‘Something like that. It doesn’t take much to put them back in their box.’
She reached the end of the street and took a left, then kept checking to see if the Nissan would turn behind them.
‘So what else do you know about how much the guys in uniform know?’
‘Just that the doctor made a stab at the time of death. Nothing fixed, just a guess based on rigor mortis, lividity, body temperature and all the simple stuff. He reckons Harding was several hours dead before you got home.’
‘Any idea of what killed him?’
‘The doc is stumped. The only injury he found, apart from the bruising, was a broken hand. Fourth metatarsal in the right hand. The doc called it a boxer’s fracture, probably sustained by punching an immovable object. That was the only x-ray that showed anything. Skull was intact. The doctor’s pushing for us to send the body to Perth, to get a more thorough post-mortem. Don’t expect anything to happen in a hurry round here.’
‘Where did you get all this?’
‘From that young kid behind the desk, the tall one with the curly hair.’
‘Kopke?’
‘That’s the one. Constable Cupcake. He was a sweetheart. Very cute but very dumb.’
‘And he just told you all this?’
‘I leaned over the desk and smiled at him. Teeth and tits. Works every time.’
‘I didn’t think you’d work it like that.’
‘What would you know? I never met a man so impervious to flirting.’
‘I flirt,’ said Ford.
‘No, you don’t. That woman back there was pushing that chest of hers in your face and you just stood there with your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.’
‘But you’ve never flirted with me.’
‘Haven’t I? You wouldn’t have noticed if I had.’
‘But it worked on that cop.’
‘It helped that I outrank him. Guys like him don’t know what to do with a woman who’s their superior. They don’t know whether to be afraid or excited. It doesn’t take much to make them spill.’
‘So what else did he tell you?’
‘They finished their door-to-door. Didn’t take long. Everyone was either still asleep or already at work. The only witness who saw anything was the guy who made the call. He’d been woken by a car revving its engine and chirping its tyres. He looked out his window and saw Harding pull into his driveway in that puke-green car of his. Ten minutes later there was crashing from the house and the neighbour called it in at four. Apparently he’d had words to Harding before about him doing burnouts in the street.’
‘What was Harding doing out until four?’
‘He’d been seen at the pub, the Red Sands, drinking until closing, and then he fell off the radar. Not seen again until the neighbour saw him.’
‘If the neighbour called it in when Harding arrived home, why did it take Eley and Kopke several hours to respond?’
Kavanagh smiled. ‘That’s why they’re being so defensive, messing you around.They don’t want to admit that they waited until Eley started his morning shift before they responded. Kopke had been on the night desk, but assumed it was just a domestic, so didn’t think there was any hurry.’
‘But now Eley thinks it’s part of something bigger. What does he reckon that might be?’
‘He just saw your history with the gold robbery, your links to McCann and Chadwick. He was only trying to join the dots, see if he could connect you to Harding.’
‘And what connections are you trying to make?’
‘Me? I’m just here to point out to these rednecks that they’ve got no reason to hold you.’
‘Much as I’d like to believe you came here for my sake, I’m not as gormless as that young cop. You jumped on a plane as soon as you got off the phone to me. I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to tell me what’s going on.’
She took a deep breath and took another left turn into a back street full of identical brick houses, then waited for the Nissan to come around the corner. ‘What’s happening,’ she said, ‘is that these guys are still following us.’
‘I was wondering how long you were going to keep playing it cool,’ said Ford.
‘They were outside the station when I arrived,’ she said. ‘They were watching the front door. Sat there in a car in this weather. I hope they had the engine running and some cool air circulating.’
‘If you let them get closer we could read the licence plate,’ said Ford.
‘Got it when I arrived,’ said Kavanagh. ‘I asked Cupcake to run the plates. The car was bought two days ago in Hedland with cash. Registered to a company called Dugite in Fremantle.’
She reached the junction and looked both ways, took a right, then cursed when she saw that the street only ran fifty metres to another junction. She shook her head and took a left.
‘Do you know where you’re going?’ said Ford.
She shrugged. ‘Haven’t a clue, never been here before. You could tell me where to go or I could just keep win
ging it.’
‘Are you trying to lose the guys behind us or catch them?’
‘I’ve got no reason to stop them.’
‘Haven’t you got enough cause to take them in for questioning?’
‘That’s not something I’d risk my neck over without back-up.’
‘You’ve got a gun, handcuffs. I’ve seen you take on longer odds.’
‘That’s just the point. I haven’t got a gun. They’d never let me on a plane with a gun without all the paperwork, and I just didn’t have the time.’
They reached a junction and Kavanagh slowed the car. ‘Now would be a good time for directions,’ she said.
‘It’s a small town. Difficult to lose a tail around here.’
‘Then I guess we just keep driving until someone runs out of fuel.’
‘Go left. Let me think,’ said Ford. She kept her eyes on the mirror, waiting for the Nissan to appear behind them. They came up to the shopping centre and Ford pointed to the next turn.
‘I know of one little shimmy through a one-way street near the hardware shop,’ he said, ‘but I used that when I lost him this morning. I don’t think he’ll fall for it twice.’
‘How long were you going to wait before you told me this?’
‘I only saw him once, on the way home from work. I thought I was over-reacting. I’ve been looking over my shoulder continually for the last twelve months. I think every car in my mirror is following me. It was becoming boring.’
‘But this isn’t boring. This shit is real.’
‘Yeah, I figured. Dead guy and all that. I think the bloke in the passenger seat was watching my house this morning. Just standing there.’
‘Did he have an umbrella?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ford, surprised.
‘One of the neighbours saw him hanging around on the corner when she took her garbage bins out. She said the guy gave her the creeps with that umbrella. She thought he might be Asian.’
Marble Bar Page 4