Peter Corris - Appeal Denied

I stopped him. ‘Okay, he had you by the balls. Now, you read what was on her computer, right?’

Nervous again, he nodded.

‘What did Kristos want to know? Don’t lie to me because I know the answer.’

‘He… he wanted to know who in the police had given information to… the journalist… to her.’

‘And were you able to tell him that?’

‘Yes. There was a code but it was very simple to crack.’

‘Who?’

‘Someone called Jane Farrow, a detective in the same unit as Kristos.’

I slid off the desk and took a seat while St Clair carefully removed a tissue from a box on the desk and wiped his face.

‘You’ve been lucky,’ I said, ‘you haven’t actually caused anyone’s death.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t have to. You just better hope your name doesn’t come up in the investigation of the unit.’

‘That’s why I was worried when I saw you.’

‘Keep worrying.’

I went to the wine bar and ordered a big glass of red. It was late afternoon and getting dark. Could be rain on the way, and I still hadn’t done anything about getting the Falcon’s wipers fixed. I sipped the wine and thought it through. It made sense in a weird way. Kristos and Perkins knew that Jane Farrow had leaked, but they didn’t know she was an Internal Affairs plant. They knew she’d taken kickbacks, as she admitted to Townsend and me-to maintain credibility. They probably thought she was angling for a bigger share of the action or the strategic discrediting of someone blocking her path to promotion. Probably saw her as in league with Williams and took him out to scare her. Then Gregory cracked all on his own and had to be eliminated.

I’d have given a lot to have heard the conversations between Kristos and Perkins after the Internal Affairs people had moved in on the unit after Gregory’s death. They must have been sweating. Assuming they still thought Jane Farrow was playing her own game, the chance to kill her when she proposed the meeting with Perkins would have seemed heaven-sent. Brewer was up to the job.

Given the way she’d contributed to Lily’s death, and how she’d lied to and manipulated Townsend and me, it was almost comforting to know that she wasn’t as clever and covert as she thought she was. Or that things were more complicated than she’d imagined. Almost. Somewhere down the track she might get her comeuppance.

Probate on Lily’s estate went through smoothly. Tony sold her house and my share was close enough to three hundred thousand. I got another sixty thousand from Lily’s share portfolio. I gave a chunk of the money to Megan to help her buy a flat. I spent some on fixing up the Glebe house-the roof, the stairs, the windows. I got new carpets and new bathroom and kitchen fittings. The trees were trimmed, the bricks in the courtyard were re-laid and bits that badly needed it got painted. Plenty of money left over.

I stayed with Frank and Hilde while the work was being done and the strange thing was, when I got back to the house, I didn’t like it. Some kind of connection with it had been broken. I junked a lot of the furniture, shoved the rest in storage, put the house up for lease and Frank and Hilde had me back again inside a week.

‘So what’re you going to do?’ Hilde said.

‘Ever heard of Tony Truscott?’

‘No-oh, well I know the surname…’

‘Lily’s younger brother. He’s fighting an elimination bout for a shot at the world welterweight title in Nevada next month. He’s dedicating the fight to Lily. I’m going over there to support him.’

Frank said, ‘Rubbing shoulders with Russ and Jeff and Mike.’

‘That’s right. Ringside.’

‘What then?’ Hilde said.

‘Travel a bit, I suppose. Europe, the States. I would’ve liked to have seen New Orleans when it was operating. Might have to settle for Memphis-Graceland, the Sun studios.’

Hilde persisted. ‘After that?’

I hadn’t looked any further ahead. There were friends scattered around the globe and in Australia. People to catch up with. A few enemies, but no unfinished business.

‘Who knows?’ I said.