‘That was the last straw, he asked for it, you know he did.’
Monty said nothing but rubbed his face as if to say warring detectives were the last thing he needed right now.
She wanted to tell him that Tye was back in town, that he was seeking custody of Izzy, that the case was affecting her personally, more than any other she’d been involved with. He was her best mate; she should be able to tell him. But he was also her boss and he would take her off the case if he knew. This was another thing he didn’t need to hear right now.
Instead she said, ‘I’m sorry, Mont, I’m just tired,’
He gave her a sympathetic look. ‘It’s an ugly case.’
She prickled, realising how close she’d come to giving herself away. ‘I don’t think my sensibilities are affected any more than anyone else’s; I’m sure the guys are just as disturbed by this as I am.’
‘Yes they are, but I don’t want the battle of the sexes brought into this, okay?’ His face softened. ‘Look, I know it’s been a hard grind, but it’s over now, Stevie, you’ve arrived. Just try and loosen up and cut the guys some slack.’
She nodded and remained silent. Anything more from her and he was likely to launch into one of his every-member-of-his-team-was-chosen-on-merit speeches.
‘I want you to knock off early today. Be home for Izzy when she comes in from kindy.’
She was about to object, but he held up a hand before she could start.
‘No, this isn’t preferential treatment. I’ll bring over Chinese tonight. You can fill me in on De Vakey’s progress and I’ll tell you how the rest of us have gone. I’ll just bring the work to you instead of you staying at Central for it—how does that sound?’
She felt herself relax. ‘Nothing too spicy.’
He grinned back at her, shaking his head. Just then, the phone rang. He mouthed a silent stream of curses as he listened to the voice on the other end.
5
An individual from a neglected, deprived or abused background may find comfort in the newly dead; the dead are no threat, they are his to control.
De Vakey, The Pursuit of Evil
Monty usually enjoyed passing the time with the super’s attractive secretary, but this morning not even Christine’s subtle flirtation could get his mind off what he was going to have to tell his superior.
‘Coffee, Monty?’ she asked in a last-ditch effort at amicability.
‘No thank you,’ he said and began to riffle through one of the police union mags from the coffee table in an effort to avoid any more of the one-sided conversation.
The sound of muffled voices had been filtering through the closed office door during Monty’s long wait. Now a sudden crescendo got the better of his curiosity. He caught Christine’s eye and jabbed his thumb at the closed door. ‘Who’s the hapless victim?’
She laughed. ‘I think the superintendent might be the victim this time. It’s Justin.’
Monty had always got on well with Baggly’s son. The kid was studying criminal justice in the hope that it would give him an edge when applying to the increasingly competitive police academy. Monty had no doubt he’d make the grades academically, but could only hope that with time and maybe some encouragement, he’d lose some of his reserve. There was no such thing as a shy cop. As things were, he had trouble imagining how a distraught victim of crime would glean any kind of reassurance from the young man he knew, with his lonely eyes and shuffling feet.
Baggly’s door burst open and Monty found himself face to face with the subject of his musings. Justin did a double take when he saw Monty and flushed.
‘How’s it going, Inspector?’ he said between breaths, flipping his head to clear a strand of dark brown hair from his eyes. He wore shiny black shoes, pressed jeans and a starched white shirt.
Monty smiled. ‘Better than you by the sound of it. How’s the course?’
‘Good. I got an A for that last assignment you helped me with.’
Monty clapped the boy on the back. ‘Let’s make the next one an A plus then. Come see me again when this murder’s been cleared up.’
Justin frowned. ‘Sure, but look, Dad’s told me all about it. If there’s anything I can do to help...’
‘Get that uniform and you’ll be the first I ask.’
‘I know you’re all stretched pretty tight over this. Tell Stevie I’m happy to babysit again.’
Monty suspected the relationship was mutually agreeable, with Justin glad of an excuse to get away from his overbearing father.
‘I think she might take you up on that. I’ll tell her to call if she’s stuck.’
Justin replied with a strained smile, nodded goodbye to Christine and headed towards the lifts.
Monty caught a flicker of movement in the doorjamb. He winked at Christine before calling out to the superintendent, ‘It’s all right, Sir, he’s gone, you can come out now.’ Christine hid a smile behind her hand. The super appeared, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket as if he’d just sorted out a major altercation. His moon face and flabby body could have belonged to a stand-up comic, features that seemed incongruous in an unhappy man in a job that stretched him beyond his capabilities. His brownnosing talents were the only things Monty could find to explain his rise through the ranks.
‘Sorry about all that noise, Christine,’ Baggly said.
‘That’s all right, Sir, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.’
Baggly rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Kids. You’re lucky you never had them, Monty.’
‘I don’t see it like that, Sir.’
‘No, well, it’s the luck of the draw I suppose. I mean, I buy the boy everything for God’s sake and he just wants more. His mother spoiled him rotten, I’m afraid.’
Monty said, ‘Sir, something’s come up in the Poser case. We need to talk.’
‘Of course, I shouldn’t be inflicting my personal problems on you. Come on in and sit down.’
He ushered Monty into his office and gestured him to the leather Chesterfield. While the super fussed around making coffee, Monty took in the framed photos on the wall. John Baggly beaming with the East Perth Under-Fourteen footy team, John Baggly opening the district’s latest blue light disco, John Baggly receiving an award from the Catholic Women’s Auxiliary for his advocacy of the family unit. The only picture on the wall that wasn’t about work was a framed photo of a younger Justin, posed in the backyard with the family dog.
He took the proffered coffee. ‘We’ve got the results back from the hair that was found on Royce’s body. It was in the police personal file, the one we use to exclude our DNA from crime scenes...’
‘Get on with it, man.’ The super ladled sugar into his coffee and didn’t look up. Monty took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. ‘It belongs to the police commissioner.’
The silver sugar bowl fell from Baggly’s hand with a clatter and crystals sprinkled the antique sideboard like a sudden coating of frost. He looked at Monty with the expression of a man who couldn’t believe his ears.
The door flew open and Christine rushed into the room. ‘Is everything all right, Sir?’
‘Everything’s fine. For God’s sake, Christine, go away,’ Baggly said.
She tiptoed out of the office, looking disappointed. The superintendent waited for the door to close before saying, ‘There has to be some kind of a mistake.’