‘I would like to send a card, some flowers. I don’t know what else I can do.’
‘That would be lovely. Thank you, Rocco.’ She gave him a fictitious postal address. She had a friend in Brisbane, so she used her street name but another house number, just in case he did some homework. If Rocco discovered this was a fabricated address, the operation would be well and truly over.
‘I don’t mean to upset you,’ Rocco continued. ‘But I wondered . . . on the news, it said your uncle was at a property in Mudgee. I thought he was with his dying mother in Queensland?’ He shook his head. ‘The poor woman, losing her son. Your family . . . It is so sad.’
Lexie had to think on her feet. She took a long sip from her glass and then sighed. ‘You know what they say: it never rains but it pours. Rex’s mother, my aunt, she’s on so much medication and is unaware of what and who is around her, thankfully. The family have decided not to tell her about her son. What’s the point?’
Rocco nodded, waited.
‘Uncle Rex had a close friend who lived on that property at Mudgee. He was a bachelor and died in an accident recently. He left the place to my uncle. He was there to . . .’ Lexie shrugged, played dumb, ‘I don’t know. Fix up the estate. There were problems. Squatters had moved in and trashed the place.’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘I don’t know – it doesn’t matter. I can’t think right now . . .’
‘This is not the end of it, I promise you,’ Rocco declared. ‘We will find out what happened to your uncle.’
Lexie nodded, took a deep breath.‘Thanks, Rocco, I appreciate you caring. Though . . . I’m sorry, can we do business? I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m feeling exhausted and not very well. I’m looking forward to taking a sleeping tablet and going to bed. I don’t want to think, I don’t want to—’ Lexie felt tears threatening again and suddenly she wasn’t acting.
‘Of course, of course, my dear girl. You’re making me want to cry for you. My heart aches for your loss.’ Rocco placed a hand over his heart. ‘But I must say, even in your grief you are still looking beautiful.’
Lexie glanced down at herself. She was wearing her oldest, most comfortable jeans, a white singlet top with a faded denim vest over the top and white ballet flats. Her long hair was pulled into a lose bun on the top of her head. The only effort she had gone to was to apply Lara Wild’s trademark heavy eye makeup. He couldn’t help himself.
‘All right, I don’t want to keep you under such circumstances, so we will get down to it. You have the money?’ Rocco gestured with his eyes to the large sports bag she had clutched on her lap.
Opening it so he could see the bundles of hundred-dollar notes, Lexie said, ‘It’s all there, sixty grand. You can count it if you like.’
‘No need to count the money. I trust you. Your order is all there, all two hundred and fifty grams of it.’ He pushed a backpack across the desk to her. Lexie unzipped it. Saw bags of white powder inside.
They made the exchange. Drug dealers were notorious for making buyers’ lives difficult. They often changed the rules, were edgy, suspicious, and would alter the location of the deal at the last moment to make sure it wasn’t a set-up. Rocco appeared so calm it was unnerving.
Don’t be paranoid – he’s comfortable, he trusts you.
Rocco lit a cigarette. Lexie sipped her gin and tonic. It was actually going down well.
‘Just for your information,’ Rocco said. ‘The fucking federal cops – sorry for the language – they did a raid on a shipment of coke a few months back, so supplies are scarce. I’m not sure if you know this.’
Lexie shook her head.
‘Your next purchase might be a little more expensive, but you can also charge more. The ones who really want it will pay whatever they have to to get it.’
Lexie nodded, wondering if he was having a lend of her. It was possible Rocco was reeling her in – give her a good price on the first buy only to increase the purchase price of each subsequent order. Not that it mattered. There would be no more orders. His world was soon to come crashing down around him.
‘If it was any other night, I would ask you to stay and have another drink with me but I understand you do not feel up to it under the circumstances.’
‘Under other circumstances I would like to stay,’ Lexie replied.
Pushing herself out of the comfortable chair, she stood and took the backpack from Rocco’s desk. He shot around the desk and was beside her instantly. His arm grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. Lexie was taken off guard as they came eye to eye, faces only centimetres apart. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg.
Trying to disengage herself politely, she pushed gently against his chest. He held on tight. Rocco’s mouth moved closer to hers. He was used to having his way with women, but even so, Lexie was surprised at his blatant forcefulness, especially after being so seemingly understanding about Rex. It was a good reminder of who – and what – she was dealing with.
She had let her guard down too much. Perhaps she should have postponed the deal after all – she was not fully on her game tonight.
‘Rocco . . . please. I’m not in the mood for this . . .’
His mouth came down hard on hers and, before she knew what was happening, she was being pushed backwards, onto the desk, Rocco’s massive bulk on top of her. She turned her head to avoid his mouth and he slobbered across her cheek.
Lexie knew she only had to say the word and the cavalry would come rushing to her assistance. But that would foil the job, put an instant end to the undercover operation. And she would be to blame because she couldn’t handle her target. She needed to deal with this herself. She worried what Batman and Rachel would be thinking, listening to this.
‘Rocco, no.’ Her voice was firm. A surge of adrenaline gave her the strength to push him away. It was a short reprieve. Rocco came back at her with gusto. Lexie thought about bringing her knee up and slamming him in the groin, but that would instigate aggression and she didn’t want to go there . . . this guy could be dangerous.
She remembered what a female mentor had once told her: women may not have the physical strength of men, but they have a brain, so they should use it. And that’s what she did. Lexie cried out, then fell limp in his arms.
It worked.
Rocco panicked. He gently placed her on the carpet. Tapping at her face, he begged her to wake up while muttering, ‘Shit, shit, shit . . .’ Then Lexie heard a tap running. Next thing, she was being splashed in the face with cold water.
‘What happened?’ Lexie asked, like a fighter coming around after a heavy punch.
Rocco looked more relieved than she would have expected. ‘I’m sorry, Lara. My hormones got the better of me. It was very inappropriate behaviour. Please forgive me.’
Lexie nodded pathetically. ‘It’s been a long, draining, horribly sad day. I just need to go home. No damage done.’
Grateful for her understanding, Rocco walked Lexie to her car. He carried the backpack containing the drugs for her and placed it in the back seat as she slipped behind the wheel. Rocco crouched down beside her.
‘Again, I’m so sorry. I’m ashamed of my behaviour tonight, Lara. It’s just that . . .’ He shook his head as though having an internal struggle with himself. ‘Now is not the time, but one day, you and I . . .’
Lexie felt numb. Maybe she was in a bit of shock, or perhaps mentally spent? ‘I have to go, Rocco. No hard feelings . . . Really.’
‘Do you promise you will still come to my party on Friday night? It will make my night if you do. My parties are always full of entertainment. Trust me, you will be surprised.’
Lexie nodded listlessly. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
Rocco and his cohort would shortly be in for some surprises of their own.
CHAPTER 44
At 9am, Brad and Dani met Detective Senior Constable Langford at the Professional Standards Command, a nondescript red-brick building situated in a laneway at
Redfern. Brad’s academy classmate was a pencil-thin man of average height who looked to be stuck in the eighties with his bushy sideburns and large moustache.
Greeting them curtly at the front desk, Langford escorted them up two flights of stairs. On the way, Brad’s attempt at polite small talk fell flat. Talking to Langford was like drawing blood from a stone. He was terminally inert. So nothing had changed in twenty-four years.
Dani arched an eyebrow at Brad.
He shook his head, then mouthed, ‘Numpty.’ Oh, how he loved that word. It described so many people.
Detective Inspector Vanessa Herman, officer in charge of the investigation into Plain Clothes Senior Constable Bernadette Kirk, was hard at work at her desk. Seeing them at her office door, she stood and shook Dani’s and Brad’s hands as she introduced herself.
‘Please, take a seat.’ Her demeanour was warm and welcoming, in total contrast to Langford’s. ‘Would you like tea or coffee?’
Brad and Dani shook their heads simultaneously, glanced at each other, then laughed. Brad was very pleasantly surprised that Langford’s boss seemed . . . normal. Vanessa Herman looked to be in her mid-fifties. She was a solid woman of about six foot, immaculately groomed in a classic black suit, white shirt and sensible grey shoes. Her short brown hair framed an attractive heart-shaped face and there was an unmistakable sincerity in her large hazel eyes.
‘We’ve just had one at the station,’ Brad explained.
‘Detective Langford tells me you went through the police academy together?’
Brad thought he caught a glint of amusement in her eyes. ‘That’s right, but please don’t hold it against me.’
All eyes flew to Langford, whose face did not crack even the slightest hint of a smile. Vanessa Herman’s mouth lifted ever so slightly. Brad thought Dani, who was sitting between him and Langford, was going to lose it when a laugh, skilfully masked as a cough, escaped her lips. Langford’s lack of personality was rather entertaining. Though probably not if you had to work with him every day.
‘Detective Sergeant Sommers called me yesterday, Boss,’ Langford announced. ‘It seems our investigation may be overlapping with theirs.’
Inspector Herman tilted her head to the side, tucking her short brown hair behind one ear as she regarded her subordinate. ‘I know,’ she said simply. Brad could hear the slightest hint of irritation in her voice. ‘We spoke about this yesterday, Langford. That is why we are here now.’
‘That’s right,’ Langford confirmed, completely missing her point.
As a professional courtesy – and to acquire information – Brad had called Langford after spotting Bernadette Kirk coming out of Teddy Johnson’s apartment block. Reluctant to impart much about his investigation, he had asked Brad to refrain from approaching either Berni or TJ/Teddy Johnson, to ensure they – he and Dani – did not ruin it. Langford was a cop who believed knowledge was power and had an ‘if I tell you I’ll have to kill you’ attitude. Brad had patiently tried to reason that, while he respected Professional Standards had an important job to do, he too was running a criminal investigation: a bombing, in which numerous people had been killed, including a police officer, and others seriously injured. Langford had failed to understand how Brad’s problem affected him. Or how they could assist each other. So, after talking in circles for ten minutes, Brad had finally got sick of banging his head against a wall and had spoken to Detective Inspector Herman – which resulted in this meeting. Langford was not happy about the situation.
‘I’m aware Strike Force Lister is investigating the bombing of the Assassins’ clubhouse and I know you were partnered with Bernadette Kirk, and that you were both present at the bombing,’ Vanessa Herman said. ‘She went off sick shortly afterwards. I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with, but can you enlighten me as to the nature of your interest in Kirk?’
‘Call me Brad, please. I have no problem at all sharing our information with you, we’re all on the same side here, and I know anything discussed today is confidential. I’m hoping we can assist each other. I personally think it’s ridiculous that different agencies guard their information so fiercely.’ Brad was off on a tangent but didn’t care. ‘I understand it’s necessary – to avoid leaks – but certain circumstances call for the need to share. Sometimes the desired result gets lost in egos and the possession of knowledge.’
Detective Herman raised her eyebrows, gave him a curious smile. ‘Likewise, please call me Vanessa. I’m on the same page, Brad. If agencies within our police force were more inclined to communicate and work together, it would benefit everyone.’
‘But our operation is classified,’ Langford disagreed. ‘You can’t tell other cops about our investigations.’ He stared at Brad and Dani as if they were the enemy.
‘It’s not the bloody X-Files, Langford,’ Vanessa said. ‘The truth is out there, I’m sure, and to find it we need to work together at times.’ She shook her head, frustrated. ‘We are not broadcasting our investigation’s facts and strategies to every cop in New South Wales.’ She looked at Dani and Brad. ‘Langford can be a tad overprotective of his work.’
Brad rolled his eyes. ‘I noticed.’
Langford hung his head and shut up.
‘Why don’t you start by telling me what you know about Bernadette Kirk,’ Vanessa said, ‘and then I’ll fill you in on where we are at.’
Brad nodded his big head and took a deep breath. ‘Berni arrived at Bondi Junction Detectives’ office a few months ago. I’m not really one to listen to gossip, but it’s common knowledge she arrived under a cloud, although I don’t know the details or circumstances. I know her father is an assistant commissioner because she drops his name continually.’ Brad realised how disparaging he sounded and lightened his tone. ‘I only worked two shifts with her. She was with me when the Assassins bombing happened and then went off sick after that.’
‘Now tell me what you really think of her?’ Vanessa’s red lips parted in a knowing smile. ‘You’re being too nice, much too diplomatic.’
Brad looked at Dani, unsure. Then at Langford, who was staring at him expectantly, and then back to Vanessa. He wondered how much he should say without coming across as a whinger or a back-stabber.
‘Please speak freely,’ Vanessa implored him. ‘I need your honest opinion. We would have eventually gotten around to formally interviewing you anyway during the course of our investigation.’
Stuff it. He had no loyalty to Berni Kirk. Taking another deep breath, Brad pushed himself back into the chair, which squeaked in protest. ‘Okay, I’ll make this short and sweet. I found Berni incompetent, unmotivated and unpleasant to work with. I know she’s a voracious complainant: there are always issues with other officers and they are never her fault. I know she’s been on work performance programs and I know that apparently Daddy has bailed her out of some tight spots. I don’t think she’s up to being a detective and I’m sorry if that sounds harsh.’
‘No, no. Thank you for your honesty,’ Vanessa said. ‘You have confirmed our thoughts exactly.’
Langford shot forward in his chair, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. ‘You haven’t stated why you were following her yesterday.’
Brad rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. ‘I’ve already told you this.’ He tried to keep his tone neutral, not lose patience. No wonder the idiot is nicknamed Cementhead. ‘We weren’t following Berni. We were attending a suspect’s address when I saw her come out of the apartment building. I noticed you and your partner sitting in the car and then following her away. I called you and you requested we refrain from approaching your target’s boyfriend – our suspect. Which is exactly what we did.’
‘And we appreciate you complying with our request, Brad,’ Vanessa cut in, giving Langford a stern stare. ‘Not real great surveillance work there, if Brad picked you.’
Langford turned his head towards the window. Brad realised Vanessa didn’t like Langford any better than he did.
‘We�
�re investigating Bernadette Kirk for a number of things, including drug taking – she’s addicted to cocaine. She’s stolen a police portable radio from her previous station and listens to jobs off duty so she can tip off a seedy journalist.’
‘Morris Murphy?’
Vanessa looked surprised. ‘Yes.’
Dani made an O with her mouth and sucked in a long breath.
‘That’s how he gets to every major job before anyone else,’ Brad said.
‘Berni is also being looked at for insurance fraud, making false claims and for neglect of duty. She’s been transferred from three different stations, for one thing or another. We have to tread carefully though, because of her father. He’ll do anything to get her out of trouble to save his own reputation, which is why we are gathering as much evidence as possible before moving in on her.’
Brad was surprised Berni was capable of so much – what was the word? Deceit? She didn’t come across as overly intelligent.
‘Twelve months ago,’ Vanessa continued, ‘Kirk was tasked to perform random breath testing. She failed to carry out this duty, instead choosing to have a nice dinner and drinks, while working, and then stopped by a car yard on the way back to the station where she copied down the number plates of the cars up for sale.’ Vanessa shook her head and let out a soft laugh. ‘Not real smart. Her junior partner dobbed her in. Kirk then threatened him and was supposed to be charged departmentally. Somehow, the problem just went away. She was transferred overnight and nothing else was heard about it.’
‘Interesting,’ Brad and Dani commented simultaneously. They laughed.
Vanessa smiled. ‘You two have been working together for too long.’
‘Almost a week,’ Dani said.
Vanessa raised both eyebrows. ‘Your suspect is TJ, Berni’s boyfriend.’ This was more a statement than a question. ‘PSC have a listening device in Kirk’s apartment. We have ascertained, from monitoring their conversations, that her boyfriend is a low-level drug dealer. It seems TJ supplies Kirk cocaine in exchange for sex, and they consider it a relationship. He considers himself an expert in pretty much everything. Supposedly, he is a mechanic, a builder, was in the army . . . and is now a barman with ambition at Club Hellfire. Mind you, he’s all of twenty-two, so he’s done a lot in his short life.’
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