The Undertow

It took over an hour and half a bottle of scotch to get anything useful out of him. He hadn't been the senior man on the Heysen murder but he'd done a lot of legwork and had sat in on all the briefings and progress reports. He was convinced that Heysen was guilty of hiring Padrone to do the wet work.

'Why?' I said.

'We talked to the sister, this hooker. Pammy, Priscilla… Pixie, that's it. William Street prostie. She reckoned Padrone told her he'd done it and that he was going to give her some of the money. Said she never got it, but we thought she was lying.'

I cast my mind back to the trial reports. 'That didn't come out at the trial.'

Wain shook his head. 'Cassidy, the D heading us up- he's dead by the way-was real pissed off about that. She shot through. We couldn't find her. Couldn't make anything of it, like. But it firmed us up on Heysen, you know how it is.'

I did, and I wondered if this lay behind Simmonds' idea that the police had more on Heysen than they could use.

'Go on.'

'With what?'

'You put the case together-means, motive, opportunity. What was Padrone's motive?'

'Shit, no worries there. He was dying of cancer and Heysen had been the only one to offer him anything. He offered to pay him enough so he could go to Germany for this special treatment. Padrone hated doctors anyway. Got the dough, did the job and then couldn't get permission to travel. He was fucked and he knew it, so he decided to take Heysen with him. End of story.'

Wain poured more whisky and water. When he drank it he showed the brownish teeth of a heavy smoker. He wasn't smoking now and his fingers weren't stained. He didn't seem like the type to have given up voluntarily, and I concluded he simply couldn't afford it. Wouldn't improve his mood.

'You haven't told me much.'

'Why the fuck should I? All you've given me is a shove around and some third-rate scotch. I don't even know why you're interested in this old shit.'

'You don't need to know. I was thinking of giving you some money if you could…'

'Do what? I'm on the bones of my arse, Hardy.'

'Your phone rings.'

'Christ knows why. I haven't paid the bill in months. Can't be long before I get cut off. Come on, what d'you want? I'll give it to you if I can.'

He reached for the bottle but I moved it away. It was just a feeling but the way he'd said end of story didn't play with me-didn't sound right for him.

'There was something more about Heysen, wasn't there? I know he was a prick who no one liked, that he treated you all like shit. I hear what you say about the sister's evidence that you couldn't produce. But I've got a feeling there was something more. Something to hide.'

That almost seemed to sober him. He rubbed at his bloodshot, defeated eyes and his shoulders slumped. He behaved as if he was looking down a long tunnel with no turning and no light at the end of it. 'Jesus Christ,' he mumbled. 'I thought just me and Cassidy…'

I poured myself a drink. 'Yes?'

'It's time to talk money.'

'I could go a couple of hundred.'

He shook his head and regretted doing it. 'Way too low.'

I considered. He wasn't an actor. 'Three.'

'Six.'

'Five tops.'

'Okay. Let's see it.'

'We'll have to go to an ATM. Time you were on your way anyhow.'

'Let's go. You can drop me at the ATM.'

'How'd you get here?'

'Fucking bus.'

'We'll walk. I've had a bit too much on an empty stomach to drive.'

He sneered at me, the confidence returning again.

The heavy rain had stopped. I put on a jacket and we walked to the Commonwealth Bank ATM in Glebe Point Road. Wain shambled along. He'd never been a solid performer as a detective, either police or private, but now he was a ruin. I drew out the money and we stood on the steps of the bank with the evening traffic passing and the people out to eat Thai, Italian, Indian, Lebanese, whatever, strolling by. The rain started again, lighter.

I held the folded notes in my hand. 'What was the whisper, Rex?'

There was no one close, but he looked around furtively. He appeared to be about to speak but he kept quiet. He cleared his throat and the sound was like a groan crossed with a whimper. I could smell his foul breath and the rain brought out the mustiness of his clothes. He looked hungrily at the money, then shook his head.

'Can't do it,' he muttered.

'We had a deal.'

'Fuck the deal. I can't do it.'

'I might go up a bit if the information's good.'

He laughed. 'There isn't enough money in this fucking bank.'

He meant it. He took a step away and turned up his collar. I handed him a fifty. He took it and stumbled down the steps into the drizzle.

7

I phoned the Parkers and got Hilde.

'Hello, Cliff. Haven't seen you for a bit. Been busy?'

'Yeah. How are you, love?'

'I've got my bloody time of life which isn't much fun.'

'Bit young for that, aren't you?'

'You're losing track of time. I'll be okay. I'm trying some herbal stuff that's said to be good. When're we going to see you?'

'Soon, I hope. Is Frank around? I need a bit of help with something.'

'I'll get him. Make it soon.'

No outright lies there, but close.

'Hello, Cliff. Results already?'

'Hardly,' I said. I decided to work my way towards the subject-an old habit. 'A couple of things I'm interested in. Padrone's medical records. Nothing about them in your notes.'

'I should've mentioned that-they went missing. Heysen was happy to produce them but they couldn't be found.'

I skimmed through the pages of Frank's notes. 'What about this receptionist-Roma Brown? Didn't she know what happened to them?'

'Cassidy interviewed her, not me. He was a sloppy cop. Fat slob. God knows how he got the rank he did.'

'Corrupt?'

'Back then, who knows? Anyway, he said she didn't have a clue. You think the records are important?'

'Dunno. How about Rex Wain?'

'What about him?'

'Was he any good?'

'Better than Cassidy.'

'Not as good as you?'

'Modesty forbids. He was all right. Thick as… I was going to say thick as thieves with Damien Cassidy, but I never heard they were on the take. Why the interest?'

I told him about my interview with Wain, how down on his luck he was and how he and Cassidy seemed to know something about the Heysen case that no one else did. Something he wouldn't tell me for any money. Frank was quiet, taking this in.

'Frank?'

'It wouldn't be the first time senior police kept secrets from juniors. Not always dodgy either. There can be valid reasons. But this sounds strange. You believed him?'

'He wanted the money like a dog wants a bone. He needed it.'

Frank said he hadn't a clue what the hidden information might be. He hadn't been full-time on the Heysen case but he'd attended most of the briefings and thought he was in the picture. I said it was an angle I'd have to do some work on. He sounded depressed when he responded-under-standably, thinking back to the state of the police force in those days-so I didn't tell him his information on the other detectives was out of date.

'How's Hilde?' I said.

'Okay. I'll put her back on. She wants to talk to you.'

That was a worry-had she twigged that something was being hidden from her?

'Cliff, I just wanted to know if you were still with Lily,' she said.

'Ah, the word with doesn't quite cut it. She's still staying here while her place gets fixed up. She's away at the moment, in Adelaide. But… it's going well.'

'Good. Bring her over for a meal.'

I said I would and rang off.

It was interesting that Padrone's medical records were missing. Interesting, but what it pointed to I had no idea. I rang Catherine Heysen.