Alex Palmer - The Tattooed Man

‘What did I tell him?’ Trevor said. ‘It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I’m still trying to put a game plan together. I’ve got a forensic scientist coming in later in the week to have a look at the contract and tell us what it all means. I’ve got Stuart Morrissey coming in today, that’s something. I’m going to talk to him myself.’

‘Morrissey?’

‘He volunteered, would you believe? His lawyer rang the hotline just after the news broke last night. He wanted to see us as soon as we could fit him in.’

‘What are you going to ask him?’

‘We’re giving him a light dusting over. We’ll get serious when we’ve got our information sorted out. He’s due about now if you want to watch.’

‘I think I will.’

‘That’s it so far. I don’t even know how much money I’ve got. Marvin hasn’t fucking told me. He’s still working it out, he says.’

‘Can I use your phone?’ Harrigan reached over and rang the commissioner’s personal assistant. ‘It’s Paul Harrigan here, Chloe. The special assistant commissioner’s neglected to send a copy of the preliminary budget to the task force. Has he given anything to the commissioner yet? Can you email a copy to Inspector Gabriel? If you could keep him informed as well. Thanks.’ He hung up. ‘She’s not stupid. She’ll keep you up to speed if Marvin wants to play games. You’ve got that dossier to get started on now.’

‘I’ll get a team on it,’ Trevor said. ‘We’ll have to work fast. If that is a secret service dossier, they’ll take it off us as soon as they know we’ve got it. Meantime, God is calling in the PIC. What else can happen?’

‘If the PIC do find anything, all hell will break loose,’ Harrigan said. ‘The hares are running, mate. I don’t know where they’ll finish up.’

‘This feels fucking dirty. I hate it when you don’t know who you can trust and who you can’t.’

‘We walk through the minefields carefully. Here’s something else I want you to look into.’ Harrigan handed over Sam Jonas’s card. ‘This is the woman who was waiting for me when I left Pittwater yesterday. She was asking far too many questions.’

‘This is the one who works for this Elena Calvo?’

‘That’s right. Find out what you can about Jonas and Calvo and check out Calvo’s connection to the minister. See if it’s got anything to do with this job or not.’

‘Sure thing. What’s this about you investing in Calvo’s company?’

‘I’m not investing in her company. I got them to send me some information. That’s it.’

‘It was just a question, boss.’

‘Don’t get any funny ideas, mate.’

Trevor held up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. There was a knock on the door. At Trevor’s call it was opened by one of his senior people, Ralph, looking cadaverous in his cheap suit.

‘Old Stewie’s here with his lawyer. Are you ready to go?’

‘Ready and willing. I got a bit of extra info this morning, mate, so if I drop it into the questioning, can you go with it?’

‘Sure. What’s the source?’

‘I’ll be briefing people about that later. Meanwhile, the boss will be watching this morning.’

‘No worries,’ Ralph said, only the blink of an eye indicating he was presumably always pleased to have Harrigan breathing down his neck whenever he was at work.

Stuart Morrissey was in the interview room standing with his hands in his pockets and his back to the door. When Trevor and Ralph walked in, he turned round, his eyes sharp in his deeply lined face. Through the one-way glass, Harrigan saw a shortish, thin man in his mid-fifties with greying hair. Stuart’s expensive clothes settled onto his narrow frame as if they were slightly too large for him. Knowing Morrissey as he did, Harrigan could only guess that one way or another some other poor sod had ended up paying for them.

Trevor had just got through the preliminaries when a man Harrigan knew to be one of Marvin’s sidekicks opened the door to the viewing area and walked in. Other members of Trevor’s team who were watching turned to look at him. One of them glanced at Harrigan who shook his head. Throwing him out would only up the ante. Better to give Marvin no ammunition at all.

Stuart’s solicitor was clearing his throat. Harrigan had encountered this man a number of times before with a similar type of client. Groomed to perfection, Lawrence was as sharp as they came with the law. As sharp as whatever had skimmed his perfectly shaven chin that morning without leaving a nick. Baby smooth. Nothing would stick.

‘There are a few points I’d like to make clear before we start,’ he said. ‘We’re here voluntarily. Anything that’s said today will be without prejudice to my client. Also, we won’t be answering any questions about ex-Detective Senior Sergeant Michael Cassatt. For the record, we have no information that could assist you with anything to do with him.’

‘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?’