Ah, my names Hardy, Cliff Hardy. Can I… ah, leave a message for Mr Savage?
Max is here, Mr Hardy. Im Constable Draper. I can act as relay between you if you wish.
Well, how does that work?
I could hear a short, barking laugh on the line. Savage, for sure.
You tell me what you want to say to Max and Ill tell him what you said. Then he speaks to you and you respond. Its very simple really. Just collect your thoughts.
Not very secure.
Dont be insulting. Do you want to talk to Max or not?
Im sorry, Constable. Yes, please tell him Id like to speed things up. Id like a meeting today to work on the material we discussed yesterday.
A pause, then Savage came on the line. Dont worry about Penny, Cliff, shes a heroine. I think we should get together today. Will Barry Whites murder be on the agenda?
For sure, Max. Im sorry if I offended her. Can you bring the notebooks?
A pause, and I could hear Constable Penny Draper talking fast, verbatim as far as I could determine.
Yeah, Savage said, leastwise, photocopies of the interesting bits. What about your office in an hour and a half?
Will you be bringing Penny?
I heard a peal of female laughter before she relayed what Id said to Max.
Savage came back on the line and his voice was softer, without the cop edge. Pennys a paraplegic, Cliff. She got shot in the spine by some redneck dickhead who was beating the shit out of his girlfriend. She does the work of three people around her now. See, us handicapped arent being tucked away in corners any more. No need to say anything. Your office, ninety minutes, OK?
OK, I said. Thanks, Penny.
Have a good meeting.
All of which left me feeling grateful that all my bits and pieces still worked despite the efforts a few people had made over the years to change that. I fetched the paper in from the front step and flicked through it. Barry White had made page three. A brief article, very light on for facts about his death, reviewed his inglorious career and implied that something from his past had surfaced and dragged him down. For all I knew, that couldve been true.
Max Savage dumped a thick wad of photocopy paper on my desk and took the top off one of the two takeaway coffees Id bought. Thats for you, he said. Any sugar?
I reached into the bottom drawer, produced three packets and a wooden stirrer and passed them over. I rifled through the paper. Give me the gist.
Lazy bugger. Max stirred briskly, sipped and sighed appreciatively. Ah, thats good. You mustve had a big night?
I was feeling a bit weary and hoped the long black I had would revive me. Why dyou say that?
Your face muscles are tired. Youre not moving your mouth as much as usual when you talk. Makes it harder to read you.
Sorry, I said, grimacing. That better?
Dont get shirty. Do you want to talk about this first, or about Barry White?
It suddenly occurred to me that Id lied comprehensively to one police officer and now was on the point of telling the truth to a man who was something like a cop himself. Max saw my hesitation and pointed his stirrer at me like a pistol.
Let me guess, you didnt tell all to the Redfern Ds. And youre wondering where my priorities lie.
I drank half of the very hot coffee in a gulp, hoping that it would give me a hit. Right.
Its an open case on my books. Thats all I care about. Any perjury or misrepresentation by you doesnt interest me. How else could you operate? Its understood.
Unbidden, an image of Claudia Vardon came into my head. She was getting back into bed after going to the toilet. Her whole body was silver-coloured in the dim light, like her hair. Id forgotten that Id seen this and I smiled. I felt better, despite a scalded tongue. Sorry, Max. Im stumbling around a bit this morning. Right. I lied to Fowler. I said it was a prearranged meeting with Barry. It wasnt. He rang me in a panic. He needed help. No details. I was about half an hour too late. The other thing is, someone had been through his stuff before me and taken everything personal.
Max nodded and finished his coffee. Ringing you suggests it was all to do with the Beckett case, but not necessarily.
The Beckett case could all be bullshit. Grogans a drunk. He could be making it up. Maybe Barry was just looking to hire some protection and it didnt quite work out.
Finish your coffee. Its doing you good. Nice try at devils advocate, Cliff, but it wont wash. Theres stuff in Hawkins notebooks and the other reports on the file that back up what Grogan says.
Like?
Max had changed his suit, shirt, tie and shoes from what hed been wearing the day before. Only the briefcase was the same, and the keenness. How many police notebooks and internal memos have you seen?
I grinned. I can think of a few Id like to have seen, but I havent actually seen any. None.
Ive seen bloody thousands, a lot of em mine. I can read between the lines. Hawkins interviewed everybodythe father, the stepmother, the half-sister, the half-brother, the servants. He talked to everyone who sighted her in the last couple of days. But he didnt push anything. You can tell from the notes. He went through the motions, quite skillfully really, but its there to see if you can read it. He was playing a dead bat.
I thought about this. You said everybody what about friends?
Ah, youve put your finger on something there. Not a single friend or acquaintance was talked to. Hawkins says that she didnt have any. That seems to me unlikely. He could be covering something up here.
It sounded possible. Everyone has friends, dont they? Then an image of Ramona Beckett came to me: she was reaching out to tap ash off her cigarette. Her dress stretched tight over her hard, small breasts and the look on her face was predatory. Her style was to use people rather than befriend them. It was sad, but I could believe that she had no friends. What about a doctor?
Max put the top back on his coffee cup and balanced the stirrer on top of it. Hawkins talked to the family GP. He hadnt seen her for years. Same with the dentist. As far as anyone knew she was in terrific health.
Yeah, thats right. Are you sure Hawkins didnt just get discouraged by running into all these negatives?
Im sure.
Well, the next question is, on the basis of his investigation such as it was, can you make a guess at who might have nobbled Johnno?
No. Not really. He goes easy on them all. Youd expect that hed be careful about that, wouldnt you?
This is not very helpful, Max.
Oh, Ive been giving you the bad news. Get out your notebook. Ive got a couple of names.
I did as he said and stagily poised a pen over the page. Shoot!
Max looked at me strangely. Theres something different about you today. Are you given to big mood swings, hmm?
Its the thought that youre about to steer me towards that reward.
All right. Keep bullshitting. Now, you remember I was to look for anyone who might have been in it with Hawkins? Well, theres two candidates. Colin Sligo and
Sligo! Shit, I remember him. He was a hard bastard. What happened to him?
He was a super at the time were interested in. Hes a deputy commissioner of police in Queensland these days. Due for retirement any day.
I wrote the name down. Thats interesting. And tricky.
All of that. The other starter is one Andrea Neville.
I wrote this in block capitals as well and looked at the words. Doesnt ring a bell
She was the policewoman who went with Hawkins on his first visit to the Beckett house in Wollstonecraft. It isnt clear from Hawkins notes who they saw first, but if it was the person with an interest in suppressing the ransom note, they were in the box seat to help out.
Come on, Max. Thats stretching it.
Im reliably informed that Neville was Hawkins girlfriend. About six months after the Beckett case went quiet she resigned from the force. Ive asked around about herthe word at the time was that shed inherited a lot of money.