It was early evening, the tide was out. Jill walked down the stairs to the stretch of sand and the first thing she saw were the plastic red roses tied to a steel post. Taped to the wrapping was a photo of Paloma Browne.
It felt good to be away from the Station. She sat down, removed her shoes and dug her feet into the sand. Out on the river, she heard the ruffle and snap of a sail. She looked up and saw a small boat turning its prow into the wind. It sailed past. The wind dropped and there was silence again. She concentrated on her breathing, closed her eyes and tried to conjure up a pleasant memory. She would have liked to have had her father here with her now, to tell him about the Blake murders, about Kevin Taggart, Freddie Winfred, about Morrissey and of what he had been prepared to do, to cover his back. Her father would have been proud to know her art qualifications had given her the confidence to take on the undercover assignment.
‘You’ve chosen a strange place to meet,’ Rimis said.
Jill jumped. She hadn’t heard him approach. She pushed her shoes aside with her bare feet.
He sat down beside her and looked out at the river. ‘You can’t imagine anything terrible happening here, can you? It’s so peaceful.’ Rimis said.
He stretched his legs out in front of him and looked over to where Paloma’s body had washed up. A stray dog approached. It lifted his head and barked. Rimis patted it, then pushed it away.
‘What worries me is that if Vladu did kill Paloma Browne, he’ll probably get away with it,’ Jill said.
‘Interpol is involved now. If I know anything about small-time criminals like Nicolae Vladu, he’ll probably latch onto someone else. He might even get involved with the Romanian Mafia. If he does, he could end up being a liability to them. His days are numbered, no matter which way you look at it.’
Jill pulled her hair out from her ponytail and shook her head. She dug her feet deeper into the sand.
‘Find anything out from the solicitor?’ He loosened his tie, drew his knees up to his chest.
‘Max West wasn’t going to tell me, he’d promised my father. I had to practically drag it out of him. Morrissey lied to me. Dad wasn’t on the take. The money for my schooling came from some family heirlooms. The jewellery was to have been handed down from mother to daughter, from one generation to the next. Dad sold them to pay off the loan he had for my school fees and to pay for my university fees. I never knew he was ashamed that he couldn’t provide for me in the way he wanted to, but Dad was always practical. I’m sure he thought my mother wouldn’t have minded.’ She picked up a handful of sand and watched it run through her fingers. ‘It’s my biggest regret, you know.’
‘What? That you didn’t get to see the family jewels?’ Rimis asked.
‘No, that I can’t remember my mother. You’d think I could remember something, wouldn’t you?’
‘With memories, it’s usually the worst ones that stick around; the pleasant ones drift away,’ Rimis said.
Jill looked at him and wondered if he was referring to Kevin Taggart or to himself. ‘The solicitor couldn’t explain the fifty-thousand dollars. It was a cash deposit, banked at the Commonwealth Bank in George Street in the city.’
‘I can help you there,’ Rimis said. ‘Morrissey confessed to everything. He banked the money into Mickey’s account. It was a form of insurance, in case Mickey was ever tempted to report him. I don’t know whether Mickey knew anything about the theft, but Col thought he did. The only problem was, once the money was in his account, Morrissey couldn’t get his hands on it again. He could never have predicted Mickey would be shot two days after he’d banked the money.
‘Funny about people, isn't it? You think you know them, but you don't really. I would never have thought Morrissey capable of half the things he's admitted to.’
‘So why did he even bother to tell me about what he was up to?’
‘You were a threat to him. You were getting too close to Chisca and he was worried he might let you in on a few secrets.’
They sat together in silence for the next five minutes.
‘You and I, we’re alike, you know,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’re both loners.’
‘So, you heard my wife left me?’
‘Not that. Not even because I know you live on your own. I think it’s in your nature. I think that’s why the job suits us both.’
It was Rimis who broke the silence. ‘There’s a pub down the road. Want to get something to eat?’
The next morning, Jill walked into the station. Waiting to hear the results of the Bull Ring interview was killing her, but at least life was getting back to normal. Though she wasn’t sure what normal was anymore. Her black eye was fading and her ribs weren’t hurting as much thanks to the painkillers she was taking.
When she overtook Luke Rawlings on the stairs, he looked at her and winked. Jenny Choi rushed past her with files under her arm in the corridor and grinned at her on her way out to a call. It seemed everyone, including the duty sergeant, was in a good mood this morning. When she passed Rimis’s office, the door was open and he called out to her.
‘Brennan, I’ve got a letter here for you. But maybe it’s not for you.’
She looked at him, puzzled. Rimis got to his feet and walked out from his office. He waved the envelope in front of her.
‘It’s addressed to Plain Clothes Constable Brennan.’
‘What did you say?’ Her eyes widened and her face broke into a large smile.
‘And, you’ve been fast tracked. You start the detective’s education programme next month.’
Jill hugged him, kissed him on the cheek. Rimis blushed.
‘I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it,’ she said. She walked away, almost running, but she wasn’t sure where she was going. Halfway down the corridor, she remembered the letter and ran back to him and grabbed it from his hand.
‘You’ll make a great detective one day, Brennan. You’ve got the nose for it, you know what I mean?’
Jill smiled. She knew exactly what Nick Rimis meant.
END