‘Okay, that sounds like an excellent idea,’ said Simon enthusiastically. If we can get the letter to the bank advising where the money is, the case of theft would be pretty hard to prosecute even if they do catch us. Two of the proofs of robbery are that we intended to take the money permanently, which we didn’t and that the money was removed from the premises, which it wasn’t. In fact, I’ll send the letter priority mail up to Paddy Scanlon on the Gold Coast. We were both in the class of ’63 and we’ve always kept in touch, even though he’s no longer in the Force. I’ll ask him to post the letter to the bank seeing they already believe the job was done by an interstate gang. That will just add grist to the mill.’
CHAPTER 18
Detective Inspector Simon Webster was in the process of clearing out personal items from his desk when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Come in, it’s open.’
Sergeant Mathieson, dressed in mufti, entered the office, his brown checked sports jacket slung over his shoulder. ‘Sorry to bother you, sir, but Detective Chief Superintendent Paxton would like a word in his office.’
‘So, he doesn’t need me for that.’
‘A word with you, sir.’
‘Oh, I see. Just the two of us?’
‘No, I’ve already spoken to Detective Sergeant Elliott and there’ll be at least one other there.’
‘Can you tell me what this is all about?’ asked Inspector Webster, well aware there were a number of topics that could be the subject of discussion.
‘No, that’ll be up to the boss, but I’m sure you must have a few ideas as to what it’s about,’ responded Sergeant Mathieson as he held the door open for the inspector.
‘Well, that’s a good start. Since when have you been calling Chief Superintendent Paxton the boss?’
Sergeant Mathieson ignored the question as he led the way up the stairs to the fourth floor, along the corridor and stopped outside Chief Paxton’s office where he knocked twice. It was Chief Paxton who opened the door and ushered the inspector and the sergeant into his office where Inspector Webster immediately saw Sergeant Elliott sitting in conversation with another man. Inspector Webster nodded to Sergeant Elliott while the man with whom he had been speaking stood and turned to face Inspector Webster.
‘Simon, good to see you, and in a different environment too for a change.’
‘Ron. What the hell are you doing up here? You know this is a police station, don’t you?’ asked Simon, perplexed.
Before Ron could reply, Chief Paxton, who had seated himself behind his large cedar table, said, ‘Gentlemen, if we could all be seated please, we’d better get on with it as this may take some time.’ Whatever “it” may be, though Simon.
Chief Superintendent Paxton leaned forward and rested his clenched hands on his table and looked at the four men sitting in front of him. Sergeant Elliott was in uniform, minus his cap while Inspector Webster was dressed in a dark grey lounge suit. Sergeant Mathieson was wearing a pair of light brown trousers with an open necked white shirt without a tie, in fact, very casual for an attendance at the Chief Superintendent’s office, thought Sergeant Elliott. ‘Before we get into the nuts and bolts of what I want to talk about, I think it best to clarify a few things.’
‘What a bloody good idea, because I’m utterly confused,’ remarked Inspector Webster who now regarded his position in the Police Force as a lost cause.
‘Now, now, Simon. Just a little patience, please,’ pleaded Chief Paxton. Hang on, thought Simon, he’s calling me by my christian name. Something is very rotten in the state of Norway. ‘To begin with, Sergeant Mathieson works directly to me, and no-one else. I employ him where there is a requirement for a more discreet internal investigation concerning improprieties, or alleged improper conduct, the investigations sanctioned at commissioner level. Generally they cover matters of administrative fraud, corruption and a host of other offences that you would normally find committed in society. Fortunately I can say that for most of the time he is under employed. However, there are instances where I have the need for a little discreet digging.’
‘And you’ve been doing a little digging here at Day Street,’ quipped Inspector Webster.
Chief Paxton ignored the remark and continued. ‘Sergeant Mathieson is well equipped for his role as he is suitably qualified in many aspects of criminal investigations including company fraud. Naturally, the nature of his work is strictly confidential, very demanding and is, to some extent, career limiting. Notwithstanding these minor inconveniences, there are fringe benefits which I will not go into. Simon, I think you already know Ron?’
‘Yes, I’ve met him a few times although it’s now obvious I don’t know him half as well as I thought,’ said Simon looking at Ron. Ron just smiled.
‘I think Ron has already bought you up to date on a couple of transgressions within Day Street,’ said Chief Paxton, clasping his hands behind his head and rocking slowly back and forward on his chair.
‘You mean, you knew Ron was feeding me snippets of information?’ asked Simon becoming somewhat aggrieved. ‘So that makes Ron an informer, and I’d hazard a guess that it’s your Sergeant Mathieson who tells Ron what to tell me.’
‘Yes, I know it sounds a little complicated, but it had to be that way. I understand Ron has helped you out on a number of occasions and you know Ron as a petty criminal who’s done time for some minor offences. But actually, Ron is one of us,’ said Chief Paxton. ‘What I mean is, he’s a paid informer, not a member of the police force.’ Inspector Webster shook his head in disbelief, not so much that Ron was “one of us”, but for the fact he should have worked it out long ago.
‘And apart from being “one of us”, he probably wasn’t what you thought he was,’ said Chief Paxton, pushing his chair back to stretch his legs straight out in front of himself. ‘Ron was a petty criminal up in Queensland where he got himself caught up in a pay-roll job that went wrong. One of the gang pulled a gun and a shot was fired. Unfortunately there was a fatality which was enough to make Ron decide he was way out of his league and getting into big trouble. To cut a long story short, Ron went to the police and told them all he knew of the gang which resulted in several arrests and successful prosecutions. Ron was granted immunity from prosecution and was covered under the police protection scheme. He came down to Sydney with a new identity while still maintaining his role as a petty criminal. Naturally we have to turn a blind eye to much of his goings on as the information he provides is generally high grade stuff and we don’t want to blow his cover.’
‘So, sir,’ said Simon, wishing the conversation would stop for a moment’s reflection, or at least slow down, ‘on those occasions when Ron has provided information to assist in an investigation, he’s done it with your knowledge?’
The Chief Superintendent nodded. ‘Yes, and that was particularly so in the case of your investigation into illegal gambling.’
Simon turned to Ron and shook his head. ‘Well I’ll be buggered,’ he exclaimed ‘No wonder you knew what was going on. And that answers the question why you were providing only snippets of information. For you to have provided any more may have led me to think you were receiving inside information, which may have compromised your cover.’
‘Exactly,’ replied Ron. ‘The Chief, having read your report on illegal gambling, thought things were getting out of hand, especially as Rose and Fisher were of the belief the report had been trashed which, of course, it hasn’t.’
Simon gave a shrug. ‘I’d like to talk about my report later, but right now, what are you proposing, sir? Chief Rose’s slush fund indiscretions are behind us leaving only Fisher’s little get rich scheme, and it’s for sure neither Noel nor I have a clue what’s going on in that regard.’
Noel looked at Simon and pulled a discreet face which conveyed a lot, like, what the hell is going on here. We’re posted out anyway.
Chief Superintendent Paxton rested his elbows on the table and cupped his chin in his hands. ‘Well, that about puts you on a par
with what we know, which isn’t much. We do know that a Mr. Graham Lee, who owns the Taipan Club in Forbes Street, has been paying Fisher insurance money to negate any possibility of a police raid closing him down. And as for your report, Sergeant Mathieson happened to come across a copy which found its way to me. I found it to be very comprehensive, probably too comprehensive for Fisher and too well investigated and written for Rose. Rose wanted it trashed because he was trying to cast aspersions on your professional ability, and Fisher wanted it trashed because it was too close for comfort.’
‘So neither knew of the other’s motive for trashing the report?’
‘Good God, no. Fisher couldn’t very well tell Rose why he wanted the report trashed, could he?’
‘No, not really.’
The Chief continued. ‘Anyway, Chief Rose played baccarat at the Taipan Club now and then, not that we were too concerned with that. We were more concerned with where he got the money to play. As he was in control of certain police funds, we started to take an interest, and you now have the gist of the matter. But getting back to Mr. Lee. While we know he’s paying Fisher, we have no proof, only circumstantial evidence. We need solid, irrefutable evidence, something like a photo of Fisher receiving his money from Mr. Lee, something that will stand up in court. Hey, how about a brew before we go on, tea or coffee?’ Chief Paxton pressed a button on his intercom and was greeted with a woman’s voice.
‘Yes, Mr. Paxton?’
‘Joyce, could you organise tea and coffee for five please?’
‘No problems, luv. Be there in a tick.’ True to her word, there was presently a knock on the door which Sergeant Mathieson opened for Joyce loaded with a tray of cups and saucers, tea and coffee pots and all other brew time necessities.
‘Thanks, Joyce. Just leave it on the table.’ The meeting adjourned while the seating was rearranged around the coffee table in the middle of the office, the teas and coffees poured. This was the first time either Sergeant Elliott or Inspector Webster had been in the Chief Superintendent’s office, and although both had spoken very briefly to the Chief in the past, this was their first serious encounter with the Detective Chief Superintendent. In fact, Chief Paxton had made quite an impression on the two detectives who found the Chief amicable, friendly and, notwithstanding the exulted rank, very easy to get on with.
‘So, what did you have in mind, sir?’ asked Inspector Webster with a touch of indifference. ‘You obviously didn’t invite us up here for a chat and a cup of tea.’
‘Haven’t a clue and that’s why you’re here, but first things first. Simon, you have every right to be pissed off. Rose never did like you, ever since that night in George Street.’
‘You know about that, sir?’
‘Good God, Simon, I know everything about my staff, well, nearly everything. I wouldn’t be much of a chief superintendent if I didn’t. I know about your application for transfer and the reasons behind it. I also know why Rose knocked it back, so just relax and let me get on with it. I’ve made a couple of telephone calls and it’s all been sorted, so forget Cronulla. You’re saying here.’
‘Gee thanks, sir. Naturally I would prefer to work here than at Cronulla, apart from the obvious.’ The obvious, as far as Chief Paxton need surmise, was the travelling from Collaroy to Cronulla. The obvious, as far as Inspector Webster was concerned was that he would be in a better position to keep tabs on how Inspector Hanson was progressing with his investigation into a particular brazen bank robbery.
‘And you, Sergeant Elliott, get yourself back upstairs. You both work well together and it would be shame to break you up.’ Sergeant Elliott exhaled a deep breath and dropped his shoulders in relaxation, a faint smile on his face. The Chief settled himself back in his chair and looked at Inspector Webster. ‘I’m giving you and Sergeant Elliott a free rein to do whatever it takes to fix Superintendent Fisher. I want to be in a position to charge him for corruption and I don’t care how you do it as long as I get results. The only alternative I’ll settle for is for you to have Fisher present himself to me and have him confess to his corruption and, by hell, wouldn’t I love to see that. Either way, confession or evidence, I’ll have Fisher. In view of the environment you’ll be working, I thought it might be advisable to have Ron along today. If you need him, he’s all yours. That okay with you, Ron?’
‘No, that’s fine. I hope Simon can use me.’
‘Oh, one last thing,’ said Chief Superintendent Paxton, more as an afterthought, ‘you wouldn’t happened to have heard anything about that bank robbery in town a few days ago, would you? I asked Fisher to get right onto it and I think he gave the case to Chief Inspector Rose who palmed it off to Inspector Hanson. It seems that if we wait long enough, Joyce will be the investigating officer.’
‘No, not a thing, sir,’ replied Simon. ‘I’ve been on leave for a while and have been out of touch.’
‘That’s okay, just asking,’ replied Chief Paxton. Christ, the bugger knows, thought Simon.
CHAPTER 19
There were five people sitting around the dining room table; the Websters, the Elliotts and Ron Lange. Simon had arranged the gathering at Collaroy in order to conduct a think tank on how to satisfy the Chief Superintendent’s simple requirement; get Fisher. ‘Ron, I hope you don’t mind the girls being present for this discussion. I’ve found women’s logic and intuition can often be very helpful.’
‘No, that’s fine. I don’t often have the company of two such good looking women.’ The girls looked at each other, both rolled their eyes and smiled at Ron.
‘Okay, let’s get on with it. Has anyone any idea of just how we are to bring down Superintendent Fisher? Chief Paxton wants evidence of corruption, or have Fisher front him with a confession, and we want to bring him down because of his collusion with Rose to stuff up our careers. It sounds like an easy task, not like robbing a bank I suppose.’ As Ron was oblivious to the recent history of the Elliotts and the Websters, Simon was immediately the target of a silent rebuke from the girls and Noel.
‘We could photograph him taking a bundle of money from Mr. Lee,’ said Sue, just throwing the idea into the pot.
‘No,’ said Simon. ‘We’re not going to achieve our aim with a simple ploy, although taking a compromising photo of Mr. Fisher would be helpful. We have to think about this. What do we know about Fisher? How and when does he get paid off? Does he get paid, in cash, cheque, chips at the table or favours? Does he have a weakness? Like, what do we know about the man? Ron, you probably know more about him than anyone else here, but just before you start, anyone for a beer, tea, coffee?’
‘I could really go a coffee right now,’ said Ron. ‘Don’t like to mix work and pleasure, and I would hate to be picked up for a DUI with my record.’
‘Give us a hand Georgie,’ Simon asked as he got up from the table. ‘Coffee okay for everyone?’ About five minutes later, the coffees distributed, the discussion on how to undermine Superintendent Fisher resumed.
‘Ron. You were going to tell us what you know of Mr. Fisher,’ Simon said.
‘Right. To begin with, Superintendent Fisher is not a nice person. He’ll go through the personnel files of those officers with whom he works, irrespective of rank, in an effort to see if he can come up with any weakness he can exploit. And it doesn’t matter what type of weakness, be it professional or personal. He prefers if he can nail someone with a personal weakness because that person usually wishes the weakness to remain hidden. Fisher found Chief Inspector Rose’s weakness in Rose’s gambling, and it didn’t take him long to establish how he was financing his problem. He therefore had Rose vulnerable on two counts; his gambling and the slush fund.’
Simon frowned. ‘But it seems Fisher wasn’t exploiting Rose’s weaknesses.’
Ron took a sip of coffee then smiled. ‘As I said, Fisher would try and find out if there was a weakness he could exploit, not would exploit. You see, Fisher went to see this Mr. Lee, the owner of the Taipan Club, which just happens to be the plac
e Rosey goes, or should I say went, to play baccarat. And no, Mr. Graham Lee is not Chinese, he’s Caucasian born and bred in Oz. Anyway, Fisher approached Lee to offer immunity from police harassment or even closure of his Club, for a price. Clearly, Lee thought the offer quite attractive, especially as he had the distinction of having both a detective superintendent and a detective chief inspector as clients of the Club.’ Ron paused, deep in thought. ‘I s’pose having the law as clients of an illegal casino is something one might call a contradiction in terms.’
‘Okay, Fisher knew Rose was using the slush fund for his horse racing addiction, but did he know Rose was a client of the Taipan Club?’ asked Noel.
Ron shrugged. ‘Almost certainly. It seems Mr. Fisher hit upon the idea of extorting money from the Taipan Club as soon as he found out what Rosey was up to. However, we don’t believe Rose knew of Fisher’s little escapade involving the Club, but obviously Fisher knew of Rose’s involvement. It just provided Fisher with another string to his bow should he ever need to blackmail Rose. All Fisher had to do was make sure he and Rose never ran into each other at the Club. Mind you, a lot of this is pure speculation. There’s a lot of work to be done to corroborate or refute what we have, which isn’t much.’
‘And how much is Fisher receiving from Mr. Lee?’ asked Georgie.
‘Don’t know,’ Ron replied. ‘It seems he goes to the Club every second Friday night of the public service pay week, has a couple of beers, ogles the women and goes home, unless he gets lucky, that is. The actual handing over of the cash is quite discreet and is paid direct from Lee to Fisher.’
‘You said he ogles the women?’ Sue enquired.
‘Oh yes. Our Mr. Fisher believes he’s God’s gift to the fairer sex. He’s been married to Agnes for close on twenty years. She’s a definite “would be if she could be”, you know, a real Madam Muck. Fisher must be somewhere around fifty and she’s about the same age, maybe a year or two younger. They live over at Waverley, which is as close as they could afford to living at Vaucluse. They dine at least once a week at an expensive restaurant, and she likes to socialise and be seen at functions far above her social status. Fisher does whatever Agnes tells him while she spends his money. I think that while he keeps her in the lifestyle to which she has become accustomed, he’s free to do as he pleases. I really doubt they could maintain their current lifestyle if they were living off his salary alone. Clearly Agnes has never stopped to ask herself where the money comes from as she probably thinks he’s so far up in the police ranks he’s being paid a fortune.’
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