Bear Pit. Jon Cleary

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СКАЧАТЬ follow you,’ he said, moving towards his van.

      ‘No, lock it, John. We’ll get you back here.’

      ‘That’s a promise?’ For a moment something like a smile hovered around his small mouth.

      ‘No, John. Depends what you have to tell us.’

      Gail drove the unmarked police car and Malone sat in the back with August. They had been travelling for ten minutes before August broke his silence. ‘Now we’re away from Lynne, tell me why you’ve picked me up.’

      ‘We’re questioning a list of clients from the Sewing Bee. Your name was on the list.’

      He laughed. ‘The fat and the thin, a list of all those needing alterations? Come on–’ Then he sobered, looked quizzically at Malone. ‘This hasn’t got something to do with what happened to the Premier last night?’

      ‘What makes you think it has?’

      He shook his head. ‘You don’t catch me like that. Yeah, I was at that place, the alterations centre, what’s it called? The Sewing Bee. I remember standing at the window, having a look at the place across George Street, Olympic Tower. What I’ve read, what was on radio this morning, Hans Vanderberg was standing at the front of the hotel when he was shot, right? He was shot from the Sewing Bee, that what you’re saying? So what am I supposed to know?’

      He wasn’t belligerent, just curious. Malone had met other hitmen and they had all had a characteristic coldness, sometimes blatant, other times subdued. It was a job, with most of them part-time: you killed the target, collected your pay, went home.. One or two of them had been show-offs, mug lairs, but they did not last long; sooner or later someone hit them. August, if he was the hitman in the Vanderberg case, was out of character.

      There was silence in the car again till they reached the Harbour Bridge, where they were held up by a long bank-up of traffic. August looked out at the mass of cars and trucks, immobile as rocks.

      ‘Can you imagine what it’s gunna be like during the Olympics?’

      ‘I’m leaving town,’ said Malone. ‘I’m going to Tibooburra.’

      ‘What about you, miss?’ August could not be friendlier, more unworried.

      ‘I have seats for all the main events at the stadium.’ Gail glanced at Malone in the rear-vision mirror. ‘My father bought them. He said we’re to be one hundred per cent, dinky-di Aussies for two weeks.’

      ‘I’m one of the fifty thousand volunteer helpers,’ said August.

      ‘Doing what?’ Shooting whoever is on the official dais on opening day? Malone, against reason, was becoming irritated by August’s apparent lack of concern.

      ‘Helping the disabled. Getting them seated, things like that. I like volunteer work. I do Meals on Wheels in my van once a week.’

      Are we bringing in the wrong bloke? But you had to start somewhere and this man was the only one with a record. Malone made no comment and they drove the rest of the way to Strawberry Hills in silence. As they rode up in the lift to Homicide’s offices August said, ‘You’re making a mistake, you know.’

      ‘We sometimes do, John. But once we’ve eliminated them, we usually come up with the right answer.’

      ‘Are there any reporters here?’

      ‘We don’t encourage them.’

      ‘Do me a favour? After I’ve convinced you I know nothing about all this, don’t let them know you’ve had me in here. I want to protect Lynne and her day-care centre.’

      Gail took August into one of the interview rooms and Malone went into his office to see what was on his desk. Clements followed him.’ Why’d you bring him back here instead of taking him to Police Centre and the incident room?’

      ‘Because that’s where the media are hanging out. I don’t want them asking questions or guessing till we’ve got something definite.’

      ‘He admitted anything?’

      ‘Nothing. Anything further come in?’

      ‘We double-checked the Sewing Bee list, everyone on it has been interviewed. He’s the only one with form, if you exclude Charlie Hassett.’

      ‘He’s on the list?’

      “Three uniforms being let out at the seams. He’s already been on to me. If I let it slip to the media, he’s demoting me to probationary constable … There’s more come in from Victoria on August. One of those acquittals he got was for attempted murder – his first wife’s boyfriend. What’s he like?’

      ‘He’s a carpenter and handyman, that’s his trade. In his spare time he does Meals on Wheels.’

      ‘Holding a gun at their heads to make ’em eat it?’ Then he smiled sourly. ‘Why am I so cynical about reformed crims?’

      ‘Has anyone been down to Trades Congress headquarters?’

      ‘With the crowd we’ve got working on this, you can bet someone’s been down there. But nothing’s come through on the computer yet.’

      ‘Ring Greg Random, tell him to tell everyone to lay off. That is for you and me soon’s I finish with our friend inside.’

      He went out to the interview room. August sat comfortably on one side of the table and Gail sat opposite him. The room was sparsely furnished: table, four chairs and the video recorder. August gestured at it, casually:

      ‘You gunna turn that on?’

      ‘Not unless you want us to.’ Malone sat down. ‘We’ll do that if we decide to charge you.’

      ‘What with?’

      ‘Murder of the Premier.’

      August looked around him, as if looking for an audience for this comedy. Then he sat forward, suddenly serious. A strand of the thinning hair had fallen forward and he pushed it back.

      ‘Inspector Malone, I’m not a murderer –’

      ‘You tried to murder your first wife’s boyfriend.’

      August waved a curt hand. ‘The jury didn’t think so. We had a stoush, a fight over a gun, his gun, not mine, and it went off.’

      Malone couldn’t contradict this; he hadn’t read the transcript of the trial. Perhaps he should have done a little more homework. ‘What did you feel when he got the bullet and you didn’t?’

      ‘Glad. What would you feel? The guy was sleeping with my wife … Let’s get down to why you think I murdered Mr Vanderberg. Because I’ve got form? I’ve had none for the last nine years, I’m clean –’ He folded his hands together, looked down at them. ‘I came up here, changed my name, made a new start. I met Lynne, we hit it off and I moved in with her … You’ve got nothing on me, Inspector, except my past.’

      ‘Where were you last night around eleven o’clock?’ СКАЧАТЬ