by Alex Palmer
‘I’m not entirely certain what you mean by “without prejudice”,’ Trevor said.
‘My client has come here offering information of his own free will. We expect that willingness to assist will be reciprocated.’
‘We can discuss that later if you wish,’ Trevor said, ‘but we have a few questions first. Stuart, two nights ago you were supposed to be at a dinner at Natalie Edwards’ house in Pittwater with her and a Jerome Beck. What was that dinner about and why weren’t you there?’
‘I’ve got a question of my own,’ Stuart replied. ‘Why haven’t you released Jerome’s name yet?’
‘We’re still trying to find out if he has family anywhere,’ Trevor said. ‘Looks like you and Nattie Edwards were all the contacts he had out here.’
‘I don’t know anything about that. I hardly knew him. Lawrence told you that on the phone last night. I can’t help you there.’
‘The question we’ve asked you, Stuart. Could you answer it?’
‘I had a visitor as I was leaving to go up there.’ Stuart spoke unwillingly. ‘He wanted to go for a drive. By the time we got back, it was after midnight. It was too late to go anywhere. I got home to a message from Nattie asking me where I was.’
‘What time did she leave it?’ Trevor asked.
‘8:05. I rang back but no one answered. I rang the next morning as well. I left a message, you should have found it. They must’ve all been dead. I can’t believe it.’
‘Has this visitor of yours got a name?’ Trevor asked, unmoved.
‘Ray Foster.’
Harrigan noted the name without surprise. Foster was a well-known debt collector with a nasty reputation as an enforcer. This was the Stuart they knew, after all.
‘You owe someone money and Foster took you for a drive to let you know exactly what was going to happen if you didn’t pay up. Is that the story?’ Trevor asked.
‘I told him there was no need for this carry-on. If he’d just let me go where I was going, I’d be able to pay him. He wasn’t listening.’
‘Lucky for you he wasn’t,’ Ralph said.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ The solicitor leapt in.
‘Your client is lucky to be alive. That’s a statement of the obvious.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Stuart said. His face was stripped of all its masks. He looked sick with shock and fear. ‘I saw that picture on the net this morning. I’ve known Nattie for years. She was my friend. Why shoot Julian like that? He was just a kid. I had nothing to do with it. I couldn’t do anything like that.’
For possibly the only time in his dealings with Stuart Morrissey, Harrigan believed him. His grief and his terror were too real.
‘What was the dinner about?’ Trevor asked.
‘If I could interrupt here,’ the solicitor said. ‘You would have found two copies of a contract at the scene. Am I right?’
Trevor glanced at Ralph.
‘I can show one of them,’ Ralph said. ‘This is it.’
He placed the bagged contract on the table. The dried bloodstains were dark against the blue cover.
‘Christ,’ Stuart said softly and looked away.
‘Only one?’ the solicitor said. ‘Where’s the other one?’
‘You only need to see one in this context,’ Trevor replied. ‘Was this dinner put on to celebrate signing this contract?’
‘Yeah,’ Stuart replied, still looking away.
‘It’s a very complex document,’ Trevor said. ‘What exactly is the International Agricultural Research Consortium? How would you describe your mission statement?’
‘My client wishes me to advise you that he had only an investor’s role in that consortium,’ Lawrence said. ‘He went into it on the advice of his good friend Natalie Edwards and took no part in its management. He has no detailed knowledge of its activities other than a general understanding that it was involved in the development of proteinenriched crop lines for Third World countries.’
‘Can he tell us where this consortium is based? Where it does its research? Where it grows its crops? Presumably it does do all those things.’
‘I’m afraid my client has no information on any of those matters.’
‘Stuart, aren’t you the joint owner of a property with your brother, Harold? It’s somewhere out west,’ Ralph said. ‘What about out there?’
‘That dump! Nothing would grow out there. There’s no water.’
‘Anything relating to my client’s property near the Riverina has to be decided jointly by both brothers, including access.’ The solicitor spoke quickly and sharply. ‘You cannot go onto that property without my client’s permission and he sees no reason to give it. If you do go there without his permission, your actions will be illegal and your evidence tainted.’
‘You’re telling us you were prepared to put money into a business you knew nothing about?’ Ralph said.
‘Jerome was the one with all the details. Nattie told me to put some money in because it would be worth it. I trusted her.’
‘You’re the sole principal left, Stuart. Are you going to continue with the business?’
‘I don’t see how I can do that. I don’t know enough. No, it’s finished as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Where’d you get your diamonds from, Stuart?’ Trevor asked.
‘What does that have to do with this interview?’ the solicitor asked.
‘My information is that those diamonds were a gift from Jerome Beck. The stone Mrs Edwards was wearing when she was found was also a gift from Beck. Do you know where he got them from?’
‘Who told you that?’ Stuart asked.
‘A rock solid source, Stuart.’
Harrigan watched Stuart look from Trevor to Ralph. He hesitated. ‘He was like that. Generous.’
‘Very generous, you’d have to say. How much are they worth?’ Trevor asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t you have them insured?’ Ralph asked. ‘Or don’t you have enough information regarding their provenance to find an insurer? Do you know where they came from?’
‘Out of his safe. No, I don’t know where they came from. Why would I ask?’
‘A man you barely know asks you to put money into a scheme you know nothing about. At the same time, he gives you diamonds because he feels like it,’ Ralph said. ‘I wish I knew someone like that.’
‘This whole line of questioning is grossly insulting to my client,’ the solicitor said.
‘One thing about this contract,’ Ralph said, moving on. ‘It’s got very strict provisions relating to the protection of intellectual property. Violate any of those provisions and you stand to lose everything you own. Why is that necessary?’
‘Isn’t it standard?’ Stuart said.
‘This contract is anything but standard,’ Trevor said. ‘If you were going to sign it, you must have looked it over. You must have realised that for yourself.’
‘My client has answered your question,’ the lawyer replied. ‘He considers the contract standard. There’s no need to pursue the point further.’
‘What about the money you were going to get for what you were selling?’ Trevor asked. ‘That’s a lot of money for very ordinary-looking produce. Why send it to Johannesburg?’
Stuart glanced at his solicitor before answering.
‘We were signing the contract because it was ready for harvest. It was just seed stock. It was being sent over there because that’s where it’d be used and they wanted to test it out first. That’s all I know.’
‘Was the contract going with it?’ Ralph asked.
‘As far as I know. I guess we’d have to exchange. Can we talk about something important? Nattie and Jerome are dead. What if these people come after me? I’m here helping you out. What are you going to do for me?’
‘Why would they come after you, Stuart?’ Ralph asked.
‘Someone may have a vendetta relating to Jerome Beck’s business, concerned with issues we possibly know nothing about,’
the solicitor said. ‘Two of my client’s business colleagues are dead. It’s feasible he may be on a death list.’
Remembering the scene on the patio, Harrigan looked at Morrissey through the window. The glass seemed to distort the man’s face. He had one hand stretched out on the table. In the artificial light, Harrigan saw the glimmer of his diamonds.
‘If we’re going to get you protection, we’ll need to justify it. You haven’t given us any reason why you’re in danger from anyone except maybe Ray Foster,’ Trevor said.
‘Nattie and Jerome are dead and you’re asking me to prove why I need protection?’
‘If you saw those pictures on the net, Stuart, you must have seen your old friend the Ice Cream Man up there,’ Trevor said.
‘Ex-Detective Cassatt is not an acquaintance of my client.’
‘Our intelligence tells us otherwise. Someone really worked him over before he died, by the look of it. He must have had information someone else wanted pretty badly. Do you also have information that someone else may want to get their hands on just as badly? Is that what you’re telling us?’
Stuart looked from Ralph to Trevor. His face was grey with fear.
‘Anything’s possible,’ he replied.
‘You haven’t told us enough, Stuart,’ Trevor said. ‘If you want protection, you’re going to have to tell us more about the consortium. What is there about it that could put you in so much danger? If you can answer that question for us, then yes, we can help you.’
Stuart looked at his solicitor who gave him the faintest of shrugs. Then he looked from Trevor to Ralph, calculating and frightened in one. With a movement so sudden it startled everyone, he slapped both hands on the table.
‘Then fuck it! This interview’s over. I’m getting out of this dump!’
‘You can watch your language first,’ Ralph said.
The lawyer stood too. ‘If you had treated my client with more sympathy and less sarcasm, he would not be reacting like this.’
‘Before he storms out of here,’ Trevor said, ‘let me say we’ll want to talk to him again.’
‘You’ll be lucky,’ Stuart said viciously.
‘Before we do anything,’ the solicitor said, ‘we’d like to know the source of some of the information you presented here today. I think my client has a right to know that.’
‘At the moment, it’s confidential,’ Trevor said.
‘It won’t be if we get to court. However, there’s another very important matter we have to address. That contract on the table is my client’s property. I will be going to court as soon as possible for an injunction to have both copies returned to him immediately. You have no business holding on to them and you have no business examining them.’
‘I think you’ll find we do,’ Trevor said. ‘Why does your client want the contract back if he’s decided against continuing with the business?’
‘The information in that contract is still commercial-in-confidence. It relates to my client’s personal business affairs and is of no concern to anyone else,’ the solicitor said.
‘You can go to court if you want,’ Trevor said. ‘I don’t like your chances but it’s your client’s money. Meanwhile, this is evidence from a murder scene and it’ll be examined thoroughly by a forensic scientist as soon as possible. She’ll go through it in detail and tell us what it means.’
‘How soon is that?’ Stuart asked sharply.
‘I expect to have her on deck about four days from now. It’s the earliest she could make time for us.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ the solicitor said. ‘You’ll be hearing from me. Good morning.’
Trevor let them out of the room. They walked outside to see the small group of watchers.
‘I didn’t know we had an audience. This isn’t a sideshow,’ the solicitor said with irritation.
Stuart zeroed in on Harrigan.
‘Commander Paul Harrigan,’ he said, just short of being mocking. ‘You’ve come up in the world. You were just a sergeant when you blew into my home town all those years ago. None of that baggage weighed you down, did it?’
‘Time’s moved on even if you haven’t changed,’ Harrigan replied.
Almost, Harrigan asked if Stuart had seen his brother lately. As Ralph had suggested, Yaralla would be a good place to base a company that dealt in experimental crops. But with Ambrosine and her children in hiding down there, it was better for now to keep his mouth shut.
‘Let’s go. We don’t have the time to waste here,’ the solicitor said.
Silently, the two men were escorted out. After a single glance at Harrigan, Marvin’s sidekick followed them.
‘What was he doing here?’ Trevor asked.
‘Marvin’s eyes and ears,’ Harrigan replied. ‘I think you’ll see a lot of him.’
Ralph had joined them. ‘I thought we had him there. It was bad luck he jumped the wrong way.’
‘Maybe someone’s threatened him. See if you can find out who’s been in touch with him in the last forty-eight hours or so. Other than Ray Foster.’
‘We’ll get the dogs on him.’
‘It’s a good idea keeping it quiet that we only have one copy of that contract,’ Harrigan said. ‘It won’t do any harm to keep them guessing for a while.’
‘Boss,’ Trevor said, ‘I had the rare and strange experience of actually believing some of the things old Stewie said in there. I don’t think he’s involved in this shooting.’
‘No, he can’t be. If he’d been there at the time, he’d have been sitting at the table with everyone else. Someone wanted to remove all the signatories to that contract before they signed it.’
‘According to Stewie, they were ready to harvest,’ Ralph said. ‘It looks like someone wanted to put the brakes on the whole thing before it got started. Maybe this is about industrial espionage.’
‘Maybe. If they did want to stop it happening, they succeeded. The venture died that night on the patio even if old Stewie’s still with us,’ Harrigan said. ‘Next time you talk to him, put more pressure on him. Find out what this consortium really did. Check the contract first. It’d be nice to know why he’s so anxious to stop us from looking at it.’
‘He didn’t want us checking his farm either, boss,’ Trevor said.
‘No, he didn’t, did he? Look into the legalities of getting on that property without his consent. Be very careful that you’ve got them sorted out before you go down there.’
They had reached the incident room. Ralph disappeared inside. Harrigan stopped at the door. He looked at the people crowded inside the busy room and felt he couldn’t breathe. He decided he wouldn’t go in there a second time that day.
‘I’m finished here, mate,’ he said to Trevor, who had stopped with him. ‘I’ll go now.’
‘Boss,’ Trevor said, ‘are you running this investigation? Or are you on leave? Because if you’re not here, it’s Marvin in charge.’
Grace couldn’t have asked the question better herself. The way things were, the commissioner had left it to Harrigan and Marvin to fight it out in the mud.
‘Consider me in charge,’ Harrigan said. ‘I may not be here all the time but when I said nothing is going to happen I don’t know about, I meant it. You map out your main lines of investigation and then we work out where this investigation goes together. You take direction from me, not Marvin. If he gives you grief, you call me. I’ll put him back in his coffin with a stake through his heart.’
Trevor laughed. ‘No worries. It’ll be good to have you on board. Did you get on to Ambro?’
‘I couldn’t make contact last night. I’ll try again today. You’ll hear from me as soon as I do. A word of friendly advice before I go. Edwards was right. Watch your back. I don’t know what’s Marvin’s up to but be very careful what you say to him from now on.’
‘He’s just an arsehole. For all I know, he wants to big-note himself in front of a federal government minister.’
‘Maybe. Just don’t let him bait you
.’
There was more to this than Marvin’s ego, unbridled as it was, but Harrigan kept this judgement to himself. The tension and strain about Trevor was deepening. The Tooth was good at pressuring people; the ultimate aim always being to drive them out of their jobs. In Harrigan’s opinion, this time it was personal as well as political. Marvin was indulging in a very private antagonism towards Trevor. Probably it added spice to the exercise.
Driving out of the car park, Harrigan contemplated a world that existed outside of his job. Maybe one day he would discover how to inhabit it. He should try to contact Ambrosine but right now he needed to feel human. He rang Cotswold House to see what Toby was doing.
‘Come over,’ Susie said. ‘Have a late lunch.’
Harrigan had turned off his phone just before he had gone into the commissioner’s office to meet the minister. There were messages waiting for him but he ignored them. He turned the phone off again. He needed an hour in which no demands were made of him. Like Grace, Toby was someone he could talk to. A relief from being always locked inside that dark enclosure in his head. There were times when his own thoughts were the worst kind of solitary confinement.
9
In the clear late morning, Harold could see the courier coming from a distance. Glinting in the sun, the van crossed the bridge over Naradhan Creek and drove across the Creek Lane into his open gate directly opposite where the bridge met the lane. It sped up the track that led to the farmhouse drawing a plume of red dust behind it.
Harold’s weatherboard house had been built almost a century ago on a low rise where it had a view of the country for miles around. From the house, a long, low slope led down to the Creek Lane, a dry-weather dirt road which, like a length of discarded snake skin, followed the path of Naradhan Creek, a now dry watercourse that made up Harold’s southern boundary. Here, the old Creek Bridge formed a junction between the Creek Lane and the Coolemon Road, which didn’t cross the creek bed there but continued along on the opposite bank, crossing at a wider and newer bridge several kilometres away. After crossing this bridge, the road did a dog’s leg around the back of Yaralla before heading across country. When the strangers who visited the Cage trespassed on Harold’s property, they always drove in via the Coolemon Road to Stuart’s locked gate. Other people, like the approaching courier, came in through the open front gate to the house.