Unfinished Business...

 

TEN

  

“SO WHAT the fuck happened?”

McDowell’s crudity was matched by his anger as he speared the question at the hapless Heckle, one of the quartet around his desk.   Collinson and I were the other two players.

I grinned at Heckle.  For a bloke who’d bled all over my upholstery while I drove him to hospital the previous night, he was being singularly ungrateful.   Not one word of thanks.   On the other hand, I’d picked him up this morning to deliver him to McDowell’s tender mercies, and  that may have cancelled out my previous kindness.   In any case, he refused to meet my gaze, probably through embarrassment or maybe because the stitches in his scalp were paining him.   I hoped both.   He fidgeted with the bandage encircling his head like a slipped halo and started his version of events.

He confirmed that McDowell had rumbled Sandra by finding out who I’d been talking to on my mobile.   On McDowell’s instructions, he’d driven to Sandra’s to retrieve the tape.

“With a warrant?”   I couldn’t resist putting the boot in.    The trouble with search warrants is that you have to tell the issuing magistrate what you expect to find, and I couldn’t imagine McDowell wanting that.   Heckle’s flush and quick glance to his boss confirmed that my boot had struck arse.  

McDowell waved me off.   “We had reasonable suspicion of possession and the likelihood the evidence would be moved.”

The bastard was quick on his feet, I’ll give him that, but I wasn’t buying.   Evidence, however obtained, has to be recorded, and I couldn’t imagine him wanting that, either.   He motioned Heckle to go on.

He’d arrived at Sandra’s to find me already there, and he waited to see if I emerged with the tape.    When I drove off empty-handed, he demanded it, telling her it was evidence relevant to a serious crime and it would be the better for her if she handed it over.   She’d told him to go and get carnally known.   Then he began a search while Sandra got on the phone to her solicitor – he thought.     The next thing he knew, he was clobbered from behind and the lights went out.

Some of his story I could believe.    Most of it - big doubts.

“Did she admit having it?” I queried.

“No.   But didn’t say she didn’t have it either.”

“Did she ask how come you were knocking on her door?”

Mr Imagination again looked to his boss for help.  

McDowell came charging in.   “The question is, Mason, how did you get on to her?”

Good question.   It meant that he didn’t know I’d used the same technique he had.   It certainly meant he didn’t know I’d broken into Sandra’s answering machine.   Or did he?   Was he laying a trap - getting me to admit I’d stretched the law?

“Memory,” I replied.    “I recalled Connie mentioning - dunno when it was - that one of her best friends was Sandra Pastor.   Thought at the time it was a bit unusual.”   There was doubt in McDowell’s expression, but that was his problem.   “So I gave her a call and…bingo!”

“So where’s the tape?”

“Search me.    She didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask.”

“But she has got it?”

“Got it and seen it.”

“Was it in the house?”

“Dunno.   Not if she was smart.”

McDowell swore.   “Why didn’t you get it off her?”

“Me?   I’m suspended, remember?”  I held up an imaginary newspaper.  “I can see the headlines now…’Suspended cop, without warrant, leans on TV reporter for return of explosive videotape.    Tape holds clue to murders of two policewomen’.    And that’s before they get stuck into the Minister and the Romanos.”   I glared at McDowell.   “Sandra wasn’t necessarily going to put the bloody thing to air.   She was going to wait a day or two to see if certain people did the right thing.”    I gave Heckle a brief portion of the glare.   “Now, thanks to Mr Subtle here, she’ll have the bit between her teeth.”

Both McDowell and Collinson were giving me one of those odd looks – half-surprised, half-quizzical.   I didn’t twig for a second, then my stupidity hit home – I had said “Sandra”.   So much for my objectivity.   I kept a straight face and resolved to speak only when spoken to.

“She hasn’t used it so far,” Heckle lamely put in.

True.    We were monitoring Channel Nine like hawks and not a word about the tape had come over the airwaves.    If the channel had it, we would have heard by now.   They’d at least be advertising that it would be leading the six p.m. news.   Ergo, Sandra had not made it to the studio.  

Why not?   Panic was my guess.    She was a tough girl, but you don’t half-kill a copper and maintain your equanimity.   For all she knew, she just might have killed him.   Once she recovered her cool, she might make a try for the studio, but I thought not – she would know we’d be watching and monitoring the phone.   By we, I meant McDowell’s minions, who had orders to arrest her on sight and do what Heckle had failed to do – confiscate the tape so that McDowell could later conveniently ‘lose’ it.    She could always post it in, of course, but no journalist I ever knew would even contemplate relinquishing the story of the year.    No way.   Sooner or later, she’d make a try for the studio.   I found myself hoping she’d succeed.  

“Do you have any idea where she might be?”    McDowell was sneering at me.   “Seeing you’re on first name terms.”

I shook the head.  “Haven’t a clue.”  

He scowled.  “OK.”   He nodded Collinson and me to the door.   “That’s all - for now.”   To me, he added,  “You’re supposed to be the whiz in Missing Persons.   Put your mind to it.   Any leads – I want to be the first person to know.”  

I nodded, but I was thinking ‘You’ll be lucky’.

When we got back to Homicide, Elliott was wearing a track in front of my desk.   He thrust a single page into my face.

“Have a look at that,” he demanded.

I looked at a row of vehicle registration numbers, perhaps fifty in all.    About half way down, one of them was ringed in red.

“From our patriotic friend in Neighbourhood Watch?”

“The ringed one is an unmarked police car - an unmarked police car belonging to the Commissioner’s office.    Guess who was driving it the night Jodie Aston was killed?   Your friend and mine…”

“McDowell?”

“McDowell.   The bastard.”  

Elliott looked ready to tear our common friend to shreds, and I didn’t blame him, except…

“The car was booked out in his name?”

“No.  The logbook’s blank but one of the guys on duty in the car park remembers him taking it out.”

“What time?”

“Nine twenty-two.”

Elliott’s accuracy could not be doubted.    Ever since a disgruntled ex-Drug Bureau cop had turned crim and burgled his former colleagues by simply driving into HQ, all HQ cars had been fitted with transponders.   Now, whenever a car entered or left, a computer logged it.

“When did he get back?”

Elliott flushed as he realised he’d fallen short in his info gathering.

“Sorry.”

I wasn’t about to kick arse.    In his place, I would’ve jumped the gun, too.

“Better find out.   Then have another yarn with this Neighbourhood Watch bloke.   See if he can remember when he saw this car.   And don’t forget, Jodie Aston was killed around 11 p.m.”    While I was thinking that the odds of the bloke recalling exactly when he saw one car out of fifty were pretty remote, a thought struck me.   “While you’re at it, see if you can find out where it was last night, too.”

I had no right to be giving Elliott orders, but, for once, we were in perfect accord.   He even grinned.

“Good thinking.” And he hurried off in pursuit of bad blokes.

I hung around for the rest of the day, doing whatever Collinson could dream up in the way of admin duties.   For the most part, this consisted of helping the public service staff draw up a new duty roster.   It wasn’t the most pleasant of tasks, inasmuch as Connie’s death was the reason a new roster was required.  As a matter of fact, it was a cow of a job.

I kept an ear on the radio news and an hourly eye on the TV in the staff room.   Nada.   Not even the scintilla of a hint that something dramatic was in the offing.   I hung around for the six p.m. news, but all it told me was that Sandra was still incommunicado.   I told myself that I might as well go home.

Which I did, stopping off at the local supermarket for a lean T-bone and vegetables.   Some of us cops, the smarter ones, learn quickly that the combination of shift work and fast food produces fat guts and high cholesterol.    Although, when I got home and reached into the boot to retrieve the stuff, I realised I was so hungry that I was going to resent the time it would take to prepare.

I needn’t have worried.   I no sooner straightened up than everything went black.   Simultaneously, I heard the boot slam and then powerful arms bent me over it.   A sudden, concentrated pressure was applied to the side of my skull and a gruff voice made a suggestion.

“Freeze, dickhead.”  

My appetite disappeared, along with any thought of resistance as a pair of cuffs locked my wrists together.   Next thing, I was being shoved into the rear of my own car and pushed face down.    The gun returned to my head.

“Move!” its owner snapped, obviously not to me.

The rocking of the car told me two men got into the front.   The slamming of two doors confirmed it.   Then we were backing out of my carport and driving sedately away.

It was a classic bag-over-the-head police-style snatch.   The only thing missing were the words of arrest and the obligatory caution.

My guts dissolved.   I hadn’t the slightest doubt that McDowell’s yes-men had got me.    I hadn’t the slightest doubt what they intended.

NEXT