Something to hide, p.17
Something to Hide, page 17
‘What caused the injury at the base of his skull?’
‘A blunt instrument. I don’t know what exactly because I haven’t finished collecting all the evidence from the body. I’ve been over it once, and found enough inconsistencies to do another pass. That’s when I decided to call you. I’ve got serious concerns.’
Dave’s mind raced. ‘What will your findings be?’
‘I’m certainly leaning towards murder. Once I’ve finished, I’ll know conclusively.’ She paused. ‘I know I’m breaking protocol, but I felt you needed to know.’
‘Have you told anyone else about this?’
‘It’s not formal yet. I haven’t finished my report, but when it’s finished it’s going to Bucko over at Major Crash.’ ‘I see. Did you find anything else that could help me, Shannon? Anything that might indicate there was another person in the vehicle with him … or who touched him?’
‘I’ve picked some splinter-type fibres from his neck and I’m running tests on them. I haven’t found any indication there was another person with him. I’m waiting for forensics to come back to me. I thought they might have finished by now, but I haven’t heard from them. I’ll let you know when they come through, if you like?’
‘That would be great. I’ll try to head back out to the crash site and see if I can pick anything up.’
‘I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, Dave.’ Her voice was soft through the phone and Dave imagined her long black hair touching his arm the way it had when she’d leaned over in the police station to show him something she’d found.
‘I’m glad you did. Thank you.’ He sighed. ‘This is fucked.’
‘I’m sorry about Spencer, too. I know you guys were close.’
‘Yeah, we were.’ Dave wanted to share his thoughts about what was going on—he knew she would listen and understand.
‘You sound very calm about this. Were you expecting that he’d been murdered?’
‘What? No. Yes. Maybe.’ He sighed. ‘I found something else that made me suspicious, but I hadn’t finished working it through.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘The guys who shot me when I was undercover, they’re over here somewhere and I felt they could be involved somehow. Is there anything else you can tell?’
‘No fingerprints, no nothing. But don’t forget, I haven’t got the car. Hopefully, they’ll find something in that.’
‘I looked at it this morning. I got a few things out of it—Spencer’s camera and notebook, and his personal effects, which I’m going to give to his wife.’
‘I hope you find who did it.’
‘I will, there’s no worries about that. They won’t know what hit them, when I turn up.’
Silence hummed down the line.
‘How have you been, since … you were shot?’ Shannon asked quietly.
‘I still get a bit of pain in my shoulder but mostly I’m fine.’
‘That’s good to hear. I wondered. You know, so many people would’ve had a reaction to an incident like that.’
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong, I had nightmares for a while afterwards, but I’m back on track now. Took a bit of work.’
‘And how’s your wife?’
‘Mel’s fine. She and the kids are away at the moment. Holidays.’
‘Nice.’
‘And you, Shannon? Do you … Ah, have you …’
Shannon laughed quietly. ‘No, still footloose and fancy-free. Not too many blokes understand my job. Makes it a bit tricky to have a relationship when I tell them I cut up dead bodies and they want to puke.’
‘They don’t know what they’re missing,’ Dave said, a smile in his voice. Shannon would have been a great partner. She understood the job, and he was beginning to learn how important that was.
‘Such is life. Anyway, I’d better get on.’
‘Shannon,’ he stopped. A trickle of nervousness ran through him. He wasn’t sure where his relationship with Mel was going to end up, but the words tumbled out before he could stop them. ‘Maybe when I’m back in Perth we could have that drink?’
‘Um, yeah, if you like.’ Her tone held curiosity.
‘Good. Let’s make it work.’
‘Okay. And Dave?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Be careful. If it’s taken you three years to ask me for that drink, I’d like to make sure it happens. Don’t go playing dangerously, okay?’
‘I didn’t get on with Lemming very well,’ Bob said when Dave picked up his call.
‘I’m shocked.’ Dave navigated a corner and watched the road in front of him as he drove. He had one last thing to check—if it was what he thought, he would be convinced that Spencer had been murdered.
‘Yeah, you sound it. He basically said it was nothing to do with him and I should go talk to Major Crash.’
‘Not even when Bulldust and Scotty were brought into it?’
‘Something about finding the cows that needed chasing.’
‘Fuckwit.’
‘Yeah. He wanted to know if we could link Bulldust and Scotty to this other than by the cable ties, and if there was any link with the motorbike rider. Which of course we haven’t found yet.’ Bob sounded as frustrated as Dave felt. ‘You sound like you’re driving.’
‘I’m going to Kathy’s. And I had a phone call from Shannon Wood—the pathologist.’
He went on to tell Bob what she’d told him.
‘You’re fucking kidding me?’
‘No.’
‘We’ve got enough to go back to Lemming now. We know Scotty and Bulldust are here.’
‘Yeah, you and I do, but Lemming’s going to tell us that it’s all circumstantial again. Could be a cranky prospector who got the shits.’
‘How do you reckon Spencer came across them?’ Bob ignored Dave’s comment.
Dave shook his head, then realised Bob couldn’t see him. ‘I’m not sure, but knowing his investigation methods the way I do, I think he would’ve gone back up to the road from the scene and looked around trying to see if there was a camp anywhere nearby. Maybe he came across it accidentally.
‘Or maybe they were driving down the road and he recognised them and got them to stop. I don’t know. All I know is if the bastards have killed my friend, then they’re not going to get away with it.’ Dave glanced down at the speedo. His anger had pushed his foot down harder than it should be. ‘The biggest piece of information is that Shannon thinks Spencer was dead before the car crashed. Now, to know whether that’s enough to prove murder or not, we’ll have to see the report. That’s number one.
‘Two, cable ties. We know that’s their MO.
‘Three, Spencer’s gun is missing.
‘Four, sighting in Perth of Bulldust, which puts him in WA …’ Dave trailed off.
‘Victor Richardson’s crash didn’t look like an accident either,’ Bob added. ‘There are questions hanging over how that happened. And now Spencer’s in an accident that perhaps wasn’t either.’ He paused. ‘But it’s still too flimsy. You know as well as I do that if we didn’t have that sighting of Bulldust in Perth, we’d have nothing to link any of this to them.’
‘But the cable ties. I know I keep harping on about them, but … Shit! I know it’s them, Bob,’ Dave said through gritted teeth as he pulled into Kathy’s driveway.
‘I feel that you’re right, too. But until we get something more concrete …’
‘I’ve just pulled up at Kathy’s. I want to check the gun safe and make sure his service revolver isn’t here.’
‘You told me it isn’t.’
‘I know, but I have to see for myself. Make sure there wasn’t a second weapon.’
‘Right-oh. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. How about you put this aside for a bit and follow up on that information I need for Nefer Station?’
‘No worries, that’s tomorrow’s job.’
They said their goodbyes and Dave got out of the car, noting that there were three cars parked in the quiet street and he could hear voices coming from the house.
He knocked and called out before pulling the screen door open. ‘Kathy? It’s Dave.’
‘Come in, Dave. We’re in the kitchen.’
Following the passage down to where it opened up into the bright kitchen, he stood in the doorway and smiled at women he didn’t know, all busy washing and drying the good teacups and saucers.
‘Hello,’ he said, taking in the large bouquets of flowers covering the kitchen table.
‘Just getting the cups ready for the wake,’ Kathy said, coming out from behind the counter. She looked as she had when they’d organised the funeral a few days before: tired and grief-stricken. But there seemed to be something a little more peaceful about her, Dave thought. The beginnings of acceptance, perhaps.
‘Ah,’ said Dave. ‘Doesn’t the church have enough?’
Kathy kissed his cheek. ‘We’re going to have the wake at the dance hall. He would’ve liked that. And they’ve only got enough for thirty people. I’m trying to round up a few more.’
‘Can I have a word in private?’
‘Sure,’ she said, wiping her hands on her skirt. ‘Come into the living room.’
‘Flowers now, not food this time,’ he said as they sat.
‘Yes, another gesture when people don’t know what to do,’ she said quietly.
‘How are you holding up?’ As soon as he asked the question, he wanted to kick himself. He could see how she was.
‘Existing,’ she answered. ‘That’s all.’
He nodded. ‘Do you have a key for Spencer’s gun cabinet?’
‘He kept one in his desk in the top drawer. Do you want to have a look?’
‘Yes, please.’
Dave followed her to the back of the house, where a small room had become Spencer’s study. On the walls were framed certificates and awards he’d won—Bravery and Service Excellence hung closest to his desk. In the corner was a filing cabinet and behind the door was the gun safe.
Kathy opened the drawer and felt around the top, before pulling her hand out and handing him the key.
Slipping it into the lock, Dave pulled open the door and saw what he knew he would.
It was empty.
‘Kathy, do you remember Spencer taking his gun with him to work the day he left? I know he’d been away for two or three days by the time he went out to the crash site. He’d been in Wallina.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. I didn’t see him take it, but I know he would have. He never went anywhere without it.’
‘Had he been working on anything that was worrying him?’
‘Not that I know of. He always joked that after you left, Dave, there wasn’t anything exciting happening in Barrabine.’ She smiled, and so did Dave. ‘Not that he minded. Spencer loved policing, but as he got that bit older he was happy enough if it was quiet. Most of his work involved helping people rather than solving crimes and high-risk takedowns.’ Kathy’s voice trailed off. ‘Not that it made much difference in the end.’
‘He hadn’t been concerned about anything in particular?’ Dave asked.
‘Not that I know of. And he did talk to me about work, you know. Not in detail, but I always knew when something was bothering him, and I’d have noticed if there was anything in particular. In fact, he was happy. Excited about the grand final. Pleased to see you.’ She shrugged. ‘Life was going well.’
Dave looked back into the gun cabinet and felt along the shelf to make sure there was nothing hidden there. ‘Okay, right, that’s good.’
‘Why the questions, Dave? What’s going on?’
‘I’m just following up on a couple of things, Kathy. His gun wasn’t in the safe in the car and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t here.’
‘Well, where would it be, then?’
‘My guess is Major Crash have got it, but I haven’t been able to catch them on the phone yet.’ As he said the words, he felt his stomach constrict. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he certainly wasn’t going to tell Kathy what he suspected. ‘Thanks for letting me have a look,’ he said, and gave her a smile.
Chapter 23
In the small office that Tez had found for him in the police station, Dave typed into the computer: cable ties.
Waiting while the computer searched through the records for similar incidents involving cable ties around Barrabine and Wallina, he took a sip of coffee. His favourite cafe The Mug had closed since he left Barrabine and in its place Beans Means Business had sprung up. The coffee wasn’t quite the same but it was drinkable, and he needed the lift.
No hits, the computer told him as he took another sip.
He wrote in his notebook: No incidents in Barra/Wallina for three years.
After expanding the search to all of Western Australia, he got three hits, but after skimming through the files he could quickly put them aside. One was a woman who had been tied to a tree outside her house by her partner when he was high on drugs and wanted a public bondage session. The second involved bikies, and the third was a man who’d been found on the side of the road, bound and gagged. That had piqued Dave’s interest until he read the conclusion: a drug sale gone wrong.
Changing tack, the next search was for motorbike crashes that were not accidents.
Again, so few. Dave knew it wasn’t impossible to make a murder on a motorbike look like an accident, but it was harder than your average murder. It took planning. Victor Richardson had survived, but for the Perth cops to ask Spencer to go out and investigate the scene? Well, clearly there was some uncertainty about what had happened with the crash.
He made a note to ask Bob if he would go and speak to Victor while he was in Perth.
Leaning back in his chair, Dave narrowed his eyes as he thought about Bulldust. What did he know about the man that fitted with these incidents?
Bulldust could be calculating and strategic, but they weren’t his strengths. Neither of these ‘accidents’ felt like that. Rather, they felt like someone was rushing to cover up a problem.
Scotty was capable of covering up problems, but with planning. He had been the fix-it man of the operation in Queensland. These incidents didn’t feel like him.
Perhaps Bulldust had started to unravel since they’d last crossed paths?
Dave grabbed his pen and made a list of things, in his notebook, that had happened to Bulldust.
One, lost the mustering business.
Two, POI to police—warrant out for his arrest. Does he know this? I’m sure he would.
Three, no contact with Shane, daughter. Shane wanted nothing more to do with him.
Four, hiding/on the run for twelve months.
Five, approached Mel in the supermarket.
Dave stopped there. He didn’t need to write any more. That was the sign that Bulldust had started to unravel. To approach Mel so openly—well, it looked like he was becoming nothing short of a loose cannon, which would make Scotty furious and Bulldust even less careful again.
That meant they were dealing with someone extremely dangerous. Dangerous enough to risk killing a police officer. The threats Bulldust had made previously, to kill Dave, seemed even more real and more menacing than they had before.
Dave thought about Scotty and was prepared to bet that nothing had changed there. It was his ability to wait and be patient that made him a high-risk POI.
‘What’s going on, Dave?’ Tez put his head through the doorway and held out another coffee. ‘You in need?’
‘Thanks, mate. I’m always up for a good brew.’ He got up and took the coffee before leaning on the desk. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Chasing a little bastard who’s stolen a car and headed south.’
‘What’s the story behind that?’
Tez shook his head disgustedly. ‘Just being a little prick, as far as I can see. He’s known to us. Done some B-and-Es around town before. Had the normal sad childhood. Mum and Dad were absent parents, yada, yada, yada. You know the story.’
‘Any chance we can get him into the youth centre that Spencer started back when I was stationed here?’
Tez cocked his head as he thought about it. ‘Hmm, he’d fit the bill. Leave it with me, I’ll have a think.’
‘It is still going, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Got heaps of kids attending. That’s the trouble: there’s more need than there is funding and people to help out with the kids.’
‘That’s the normal story, too, isn’t it?’
‘Oh yeah. Youth Justice is just the same.’ He paused. ‘So, you’re doing the eulogy for Spencer?’
‘Yeah.’ As he answered he realised there were only two days until the funeral, and he hadn’t tried to write anything.
‘Brave man.’
‘Gotta do what you gotta do.’ Dave looked back down at his notes. ‘Better get back to this.’
Tez glanced around and then walked into the office and shut the door. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about Spencer’s death.’
Dave took a breath. ‘Why’s that?’
‘There’s something not right, but I can’t put my finger on it. The gun, to begin with,’ he said, raising his eyebrows.
‘Yeah.’
‘I think he’s been targeted.’
Crossing his arms, Dave asked, ‘What was he working on before he went north? I mean, I know he went to ask a few questions for me, but did he have anything else on that would’ve taken him up there?’
‘Nope, these ones were from around here. A couple of cases; nothing too nasty. One bloke he was trying to track down had stolen some gold from one of the mines—he was working there, so it was a stealing-as-a-servant case.
‘The other was a couple of prospectors who were found on a tenement that wasn’t theirs. He’d tried to arrest them, but they’d got away and there was a BOLO out on them. He’d said that neither of them seemed dangerous, just breaking the law. Nothing wild west like there can be out here.’
