‘They couldn’t. Our consensus is, this was an opportunistic shooting. That building has a public gymnasium on the top floor. Anyone in a tracksuit, either in the elevator or on the fire stairs, carrying a sports bag perhaps, would attract no attention at all. One of our team has argued, convincingly, I think, that the special assistant commissioner was possibly being cased for assassination. His controllers may have considered he was becoming a danger to them, as indeed he was. That building overlooks the entrance to our building’s garage where his entrance and exit could be watched. There’s also a line of coffee shops at street level that everyone here uses. But then, all of a sudden yesterday, the special assistant commissioner is out there on the street and he’s the perfect target. They took their chance when they could.’
‘Bye, bye, Fang,’ Ralph muttered.
‘I think this also solves the question of how vital evidence-a contract, I believe-was stolen from the evidence room,’ Meredith said. ‘It seems almost certain that the special assistant commissioner was responsible.’
‘Can you tell us anything about how they blackmailed him?’ Trevor asked.
‘We won’t be able to answer that question until we’ve finished searching his office and house. Those searches are happening now. If that’s all you need me for, I’ll leave it there in case some information does come through.’
‘That’s fine, Meredith. Thanks for being here.’
She left the room. There was a stir among those remaining. A sense of distaste and betrayal was written on people’s faces. Harrigan wondered what they would think of him if they knew that he’d handed over evidence in a way no different from Marvin. They’d see its uselessness; he could have said no to Toby’s kidnapper and still got his son back. Either way he would lose their respect.
‘Kevin,’ Trevor was saying. ‘What can you tell us about the minister’s death?’
Parkin got to his feet but didn’t walk to the front of the room, forcing those present to turn and look at him. ‘We know where the bomb was,’ he said. ‘In his adviser’s laptop. It was detonated when the adviser and Edwards were talking together at the front entrance. They were both killed instantly. The driver survived but he’s critical. As we all know, the blast also killed one of the guards at the door.’
‘When was the bomb planted?’ Harrigan asked.
‘We haven’t narrowed down any times as yet. According to Edwards’ PA, the senator’s adviser always took the laptop home with him. He rents a house in Summer Hill and he’s frequently out in the evenings. Our bomber would have had the fairly simple task of breaking into a not very secure house and doing a fairly straightforward job. In my opinion, the adviser was careless. He should have kept the laptop in more secure storage.’
‘In other words, Edwards could have been singled out for assassination some days ago?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘How was the bomb detonated?’
‘It was almost certainly a timing device triggered by a mobile telephone call. I would speculate that the bomber was watching Edwards and his adviser leave his electorate office, which is at Ashfield, for police headquarters. That way he could be sure they were travelling together. He would have followed them for some distance and then started the countdown. The bomb must have been intended to explode where it did. There was ample opportunity beforehand to detonate it almost anywhere else.’
‘Marvin didn’t want you to go down to that front door by yourself, boss,’ Trevor said. ‘He asked you to take me along as well.’
‘Could he have known?’ Parkin asked sharply.
‘Of course he fucking knew!’ Frankie retorted softly, looking away.
Again there was a stir of anger throughout the room. ‘Pity they didn’t shoot him earlier,’ Harrigan heard someone mutter. ‘Dog!’ someone else said. With a nod to Trevor, Harrigan moved forward to shut down the mood as quickly as possible.
‘Okay, let’s stand back from what we know,’ he said. ‘In my opinion, there’s no chance that having detonated a bomb at our front door, the bomber would wait around to watch what happened next. Whoever the bomber is, he didn’t kill Marvin. He wouldn’t have had the time. Also, Meredith’s scenario means that someone was already in position, spying out the land.’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Parkin asked. ‘Two dirty tricks men?’
‘Before I make any judgements on that, I want to hear what the task force has turned over in relation to what happened at Pittwater. Okay, thanks for that, Kevin. Trevor. Where are you taking us from here?’
‘Jacquie, you’re on,’ Trevor said. ‘Dazzle us.’
Parkin sat down. Jacquie, young, new to the squad and ambitious, was proving herself. She began by projecting a photograph of the murder scene onto the screen. The dead sat at the table, waiting for nothing. Harrigan glanced quickly at his federal counterparts. They were poker-faced.
‘We were asked to reconstruct the murder scene,’ Jacquie said. ‘Okay, so what’s the key to this picture? They’re at dinner. How did that meal get there? One of the neighbours told us that a van from Sweet Delights Catering at Mona Vale drove up to the gates at about 8.10 the night of the murders. No one got out so we have no descriptions. The gates are automatic. They were opened for the van, it drove in and then the gates were closed again. Our neighbour didn’t see the van leave, but a man walking his dog saw it on its way down the hill just after nine. So the killings took up to fifty minutes maximum.’
‘Could this man see into the van?’ Harrigan asked.
‘No. The windscreen was reflective. He could see his own face but not who was inside. He didn’t look at the number plate. We went to Sweet Delights. It turns out that someone claiming to be Natalie Edwards’ private secretary-she does have one-’
‘Was it a woman or man?’ Harrigan asked.
‘A woman.’
‘What did her voice sound like? Any accents, anything unusual?’
‘Nothing they noticed. She rang and cancelled the arrangements Natalie Edwards had made two hours before they were due to deliver the meal. They did what they always do when that happens: they put the charge through on her credit card. The van the neighbour saw arrived exactly when it was supposed to. She’d asked for an evening supper. Our murderers not only knew about Natalie Edwards’ arrangements; they impersonated the caterers to get into the house and went to some trouble to do it. But taking you back to this picture. What’s on the table? A meal. The killer, or killers, whichever, must have brought this food with them. Our murderers catered a meal they knew their victims were never going to eat. Why?’
‘Were they shot at the table?’ Harrigan asked.
‘I think it worked like this. The killer walks in, maybe Natalie Edwards meets him-’
‘Him.’ Harrigan interrupted again. ‘But the person who rang the caterers was a woman.’
‘And she could have been the killer, no mistaking that. Whoever they were, they made everyone lie down on the lounge room floor and they restrained them. Everyone had restraint marks. Because of where the blood was, we know the meal must have been set out beforehand, presumably by the killer. Then I think they took the victims out to the patio one by one.’
‘All of them?’
‘All of them, including Julian Edwards.’ Her voice broke a little over this. ‘Then they unloaded the Ice Cream Man, took this photograph and went home. Then they released it on the net under the subject line: They gather for the feast. It’s the food that’s important here. That’s the imagery they’re projecting.’
Briefly, people were silent.
‘Why kill the boy?’ Parkin asked. ‘Could he identify them?’
‘That’s a motive. But there’s also a question of leverage,’ Harrigan said. ‘Shooting that boy was a terrible crime. His father was a government minister. We know they made sure Edwards saw his son dead because they sent him the combination to the gate by SMS. That combination of circumstances means there was no way this investigation was going to be swept under the carpet. They wanted us to dig.’