‘Tighter than a fish’s arsehole. Excuse me, Beth.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Hammond said. ‘You see the problem, Mr Hardy. Without something more solid to go on it’d be hard for us to take action against Mrs Bonham or the Lord George Agency.’
I saw it clearly enough, but I saw other things besides. ‘Look,’ I said. They must already be wondering why Stivens and Talbot haven’t got back or called in. If you don’t move against them now they’ll either run for cover or destroy everything that could possibly be seen as evidence.’
‘With what you’ve given us we couldn’t even get a search warrant. And as for arresting anyone — we’d be facing a lawsuit tomorrow.’
I was getting desperate as I felt it all slipping away.
‘There’s a guy called Lewis,’ I said. ‘Some kind of lawyer perhaps. He was there in the spa when Stivens tried to put the frighteners on me.’
‘So?’ Stankowski said.
‘He’s not the tough type. If you apply the right pressure he could give you what you need.’
‘Applying pressure seems to be your forte,’ Hammond said.
“What does that mean?’
Stankowski stood and moved to what was obviously his favourite intimidating position against the wall. ‘Right now, Hardy, we’ve got a whole lot of allegations and connections of this with that and explanations coming from you and no-one else. What we have hard and fast is that you shot a man to death in the Belangalo State Forest a few hours ago.’
It seemed like a lot longer ago than that. I raised my hands in surrender. ‘Look, you’d better let me call my lawyer.’
Hammond fiddled with a pen and swore when she skittered it and it put a mark on the sleeve of her blouse. ‘That’d be the lawyer who lied to us about your phone being tapped to keep you running free?’
I was too tired and wrung out to argue. ‘You wanted me here again, you got me. If you want to keep me you’re going to have to jump through some hoops. Get me a phone and turn the video off. That’s it.’
Hammond pressed a button on the console. ‘Interview terminated at 5.49 p.m.’
‘Just out of interest and off the record, Hardy,’ Stankowski said. ‘Who d’you reckon killed the golfer?’
‘At a guess, Stivens.’
‘Dead end. And Mrs Price?’
I had ideas about that but I couldn’t see any point in airing them to this pair. I shrugged. ‘Phone?’
Hammond shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think we want to keep you here any longer, Mr Hardy. I’ll make moves to have your PEA licence suspended pending further investigations.’
‘More lawyers.’
‘Inevitably.’
‘Don’t you want to solve those two murders?’
‘Oh, yes. And if Talbot and Hewitt back you up at every point and Talbot’s willing to testify, we just might solve them the way you think they should be solved and we’ll be grateful.’
A civilian working in the police station gave me a lift home. He wanted to chat about everything to do with his computer-based job and to find out why I’d been there with the detectives who were his gods but it was my turn to be silent. It was a disappointed good Samaritan who dropped me in Glebe Point Road. I had a quick one in the Toxteth and bought a bottle of whisky for medicinal purposes. I walked the block and a bit to my street and felt the better for it. My parking space was occupied again, this time by Danni’s Honda. She got out when she saw me walking towards the house.
‘Hello, Mr Hardy.’
‘Hello, Danni. What’re you doing here?’
‘Dad sent me. You look terrible, you’d better get inside and lie down.’
‘I’ll be OK. Why did your father send you?’
She was still dressed in her jeans, tank top and denim jacket and she shivered in the cool night air. ‘Can we go in? It’s cold.’
We went into the house where it wasn’t much warmer. She followed me into the kitchen, stared at the broken window and watched me opening the whisky.
‘You looked whacked,’ she said. ‘Should you be drinking?’
I took my favourite position on the stool, back to the wall. ‘I’m drinking because I’m whacked. Want some?’
She shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t have any bourbon and Coke?’
I poured a stiff one, knocked half of it back and looked at her. ‘There’s some white wine in the fridge and I’ve got a cask of red.’
‘Yuk. I’ll drink water.’ She took a glass from the draining board and filled it at the sink. ‘Can I smoke?’
‘Yeah. Stand over by the window and blow the smoke out. Don’t blow it at me or I might weaken. You and Marty’re on better terms all of a sudden are you?’
She lit her cigarette and puffed where I’d said to puff. ‘Sort of. The police at Hurstville rang him about you and they told him what had happened out in the bush. He rang me and asked me to come over and see you. You know who killed Samantha and Jason, do you?’
I finished the drink and poured a second, smaller one. ‘Drip a bit of water in that would you, Danni. I’m too tired to get up. Yes, I think I do, but I’ve got no proof. It’s all tied up with that escort agency Samantha used and Jason worked for.’
‘Sleazes.’ She finished her cigarette and ran the tap on the butt. ‘Dad wants whoever killed Samantha to pay for it and I feel the same way about Jason.’
‘I agree. I just can’t work out a way to do it just now. I’m too…’
‘Whacked. OK. Will you ring Dad tomorrow? He wants to talk to you.’
‘I will. It’s good that you’re getting along. What about Junie?’
She jiggled her car keys and grinned. ‘I think he might’ve learned his lesson. She won’t last. Don’t move, I can get out. See you, Mr Hardy.’
‘Cliff.’
‘Do you know you’ve got a big lump on the side of your head, Cliff?’
‘Company for the old ones on top and at the back, Danni,’ I said.
22
I have to admit the police tried to box clever. When Ramsay had recovered from his ordeal he told them all he knew about the Bonham-Lord George blackmailing operation. He’d overheard a telephone conversation by accident when he picked up an extension. It had frightened him but he’d remembered a name and approached the woman who’d been mentioned. She was in a state and almost clawed his eyes out. He said he was sure some of the women took drugs in the company of their hired companions at Prue Bonham’s house. He didn’t know who supplied the drugs. It wasn’t much but the police used it as leverage on Simon Talbot and it was enough. In return for a reduction of the charges against him down from abduction and attempted murder to assault he agreed to testify that Prue Bonham had ordered the despatch of Ramsay Hewitt.
But he insisted that he knew nothing about the deaths of Jason and Samantha. I got most of this from Peter Lo. The police were stalled. There wasn’t enough evidence to get Prue Bonham on the blackmailing or the drugs, and ‘conspiracy to commit murder’ — with the would-be murderer dead and murder not committed — was too weak to run with.
Ramsay, when I went to see him in the hospital where they’d kept him to treat infections arising from the taping of his mouth and eyes, refused to talk to me. Didn’t even thank me for saving his life. Out of hospital, he went back to living with Gwendolyn Carroll and resumed his university studies. I gave the phone number to Tess and she rang him and got the cold shoulder.
‘He says he wants nothing to do with anyone from his life before he met her,’ Tess told me when she made a flying visit. ‘Told me not to come near him. How mad is that?’
‘He was wrapped up like a parcel, stuffed in a car boot and about to get his head bashed in,’ I said. ‘He’s been through a bit.’
‘I’d like to… what’s the use? I’ll thank you for what you did, even if he won’t. Thank you, Cliff.’
“That’s enough for me.’
‘What about your client? How does he feel about things?’
I’d seen Price just once since the Belangalo episode. He’d looked aggrieved when I said I was sorry we hadn’t got things better finalised, but still paid up handsomely.