2 p.m.
Walker is scrolling through the contacts on his phone. He needs a lawyer for Blair but he doesn’t know anyone up this way, doesn’t know any lawyers in Queensland at all. He pauses at Ellen’s name in his address book. Ellen, his ex, a defence lawyer in Sydney. Very good at her job, the kind of person he’d like to have behind him in a situation like this. But he hasn’t spoken to her for almost eight months, not since they broke up before he went to Caloodie to visit Grandma for the last time. Not sure she’ll pick up his call, let alone help out. He hesitates until the whump-whump of the helicopter taking off with Blair on board, headed to Longreach, makes up his mind. He presses the Call button. The phone rings and rings. He’s about to hang up when she answers.
‘Lucas.’ Her tone is cool.
‘G’day, Ellen,’ he says. ‘How are you doing?’
‘If you’ve called to make small talk or make yourself feel better, let me save us both some time. I’m great, my life is good, I’m in love with a kind, generous man and I’m happy. If you want your things, they’re in storage. I can text you the address and send you the bill.’
‘No, no, that’s not why I’m calling. I mean, I’m stoked that you’re happy. And thanks for storing my stuff. But it’s … I’m in Queensland and my cousin, Blair, he’s been arrested for a triple murder.’
‘Triple murder?’
‘He didn’t do it. I’d stake my life on it.’
‘This is the cousin you grew up with?’
‘Yeah. And he needs lawyering up but I don’t know anyone.’
There’s a long silence. ‘We’ve got an office in Brisbane. I’ll give you the number.’
‘Ellen, please, I know it’s out of order to call you like this. I’ve been meaning to call you but, well, you know, work …’
‘Yes, I know.’ For the first time in the conversation, she sounds pissed off.
‘Ellen, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t desperate. You’re the best lawyer I know …’
‘I can’t believe you, Lucas. I don’t hear from you for almost a year, and now you call and ask me to drop everything and fly to Queensland to defend your cousin.’
‘No, I don’t expect you to do that. But maybe you know someone up this way? Someone really good? Blair is in deep shit and I need help, like right now. He’s in custody – he’ll get given a duty solicitor if I don’t sort this out and he needs better than that. Please. Blair’s like a brother to me. He didn’t do this, but the detective on the case fancies him for it and I’m worried.’
He runs out of steam. Waits. Hears her exhale. A pause. ‘I can’t do it but maybe there’s someone I know. Leave it with me, I’ll make a few calls.’
‘Thanks, Ellen,’ he says, but he’s speaking to thin air. She’s gone, cut him off, no less than he deserves.
While he waits for Ellen to get back to him, he goes inside to find Grace. She’s tearful, angry. ‘How could you let them take Blair away? He would never do anything like this!’
‘I can’t stop them,’ he says, walking over to her, but she turns away, goes into her room, closes the door. He gives it a minute then knocks.
‘Yeah …’ she says.
He goes in. She’s lying on her bed, eyes red. ‘I’m getting a lawyer for Blair. A good one. It’ll be OK.’
‘This place is so awful. We’re trapped here, everyone hates us, and now they’ve arrested Blair. How could they even think he would do something like this? Where have they taken him? We need to get out of here, find Blair, be there for him. He didn’t do anything …’
‘As soon as the road opens, we’ll go to Longreach and pick up Blair. Maybe even first thing tomorrow. I’m getting him a good lawyer, he’ll be out before we know it.’
He’s hoping it’s true but perhaps his doubt shows because for the first time in her life, she looks at him as though she doesn’t believe him.
It’s slightly over an hour before Ellen texts him the name and number of a colleague based in Brisbane, Aiko Yamamoto, with a short message: She’s very good, willing to take the case, can fly up to Longreach tomorrow if need be.
He calls Aiko. She impresses him with her questions, her focus, her no-nonsense energy. They agree on a course of action: she’ll speak with Stones, the arresting officer, and Blair by phone today, and she’ll arrange to be there for questioning tomorrow. He transfers her the fee. It puts a bit of a dent in his savings, but he doesn’t care, happy to have someone as good as Aiko on Blair’s side. He leaves a voice message for Ellen too, thanking her. He keeps it brief. He needs to go and see her when he gets back down south and apologise properly. The problem isn’t so much that he ended their relationship. They hadn’t been all that suited, the whole good-life, fine-dining, yachts-in-the-harbour, cocktails-on-the-rooftop thing just not his vibe. And although she’d been supportive of his work to begin with, he’s pretty sure she’d already been tiring of it, of the fact that his job makes him hard to pin down, he can’t always be around, misses parties and events often with little notice. No, the problem isn’t that he ended it, the problem is that afterwards he fell off the face of the earth, didn’t reply to any of her messages or calls. The timing was bad, his grief for Grandma and the toll of the last few cases making him less available than ever. But it was wrong of him and when he gets back down south he’ll go and see her. He owes her that. Not sure that she’ll be interested to hear it, and fair enough too, but he’ll have a go.
Walker’s been putting off calling Blair’s mum, his aunt Michelle, but now that he has Aiko on the case he bites the bullet, dials her number, tells her what’s happened. ‘It’s complete bullshit, Blair had nothing to do with it and there’s not a chance in hell they can pin this on him,’ he finishes. ‘I have a lawyer on the case. She’s really good, she’ll sort it. He’ll be back home before you know it.’
‘Murders? Blair? I don’t understand …’
He tells her the story again. ‘But you don’t have to worry, Blair didn’t do anything.’
There’s a longish silence. He hears a chair scrape, Michelle sitting down. ‘OK,’ she says. ‘You’re there, you know how this all works, you’ve got Blair a lawyer. I know you’ll do whatever it takes to sort this out.’
‘I will,’ he says. ‘Can you tell Tracy? Tell her to try not to worry too much. I’m on it. He might not be able to take her calls right now, but he’s OK and he’ll call as soon as he can.’
‘Yeah, I’ll talk to Tracy.’ There’s another pause. ‘Promise me he’s OK? Promise me this is something you can sort out? They’re not going to set him up for something terrible like this?’
‘I promise,’ says Walker. ‘I’m not leaving here without him.’
Afterwards he slumps on the sofa in the cabin. He hopes like hell he can keep his promise to Michelle, to Blair, to Grace. He knows Blair is innocent, but Stones must have something that’s convinced him the arrest is warranted. He wonders about the text messages on Blair’s phone, wonders what other evidence Stones has. No matter, he knows that Blair would never hurt someone, let alone kill three people in this horrific way. He needs to find a way to prove to Stones that Blair is not involved. The best way to do that is to find the real culprit, but he’s all out of ideas.
His email pings. A message from Phil.
Info you wanted: Brett Charles and Dean Wilson, not on the system; Stewart Charles served 10 years for manslaughter in NSW. Lethally stabbed an associate in a bar fight in December 2011. Released February 2022. Has previous for car theft as a juvie and a couple of drug offences, possession, in 2008 and 2010. Warren Harris – nice tricky one this.
Despite himself Walker smiles as he reads this. Others might be frustrated if a query is time-consuming or difficult, but Phil enjoys a challenge.
Couldn’t find anything under the name so I did a reverse search on the pic you sent through and didn’t find much either. But then I played around with it and de-aged it, took 5 and then 10 years off him, and it came up with a potential match under the name Billy Thomson. Thomson was a member of the Vandals from 2000 to 2016. He moved up the ranks to Club enforcer under Vandals founder Pedro Silva (currently in the bin for murder). When Silva went to jail in 2015 there was quite a bit of internecine strife while the new leadership under Stefan Markovich emerged. Billy Thomson was apparently on the wrong side, a stalwart of the old guard and opposed to Markovich. He was reported missing by his girlfriend, a Narelle Hudson, in February 2017. He left home one Saturday evening, said he was going to meet some friends and never came back. She said he’d been getting death threats and had been anxious in the weeks before he went missing. None of his friends owned up to meeting him that night and no body was ever found so he’s been missing, presumed dead, ever since. But I think he might be your man Harris. A copy of the photo that Narelle Hudson supplied at the time of his disappearance is attached, he’s the one on the right.
Walker opens the attachment. It’s a photo of two bikies in their club t-shirts and leathers and a busty blonde in a silver bikini top, denim shorts and high heels. There’s an older guy on the left – short, balding with a goatee – who Walker is pretty sure is Pedro Silva. The bloke on the right is tall and well built, with short dark hair, a buzz cut, and a short, well-groomed beard following the trace of his jaw. Walker looks closely at him, compares the shot to the picture on his phone of Warren Harris. They’re both big blokes with thick necks, wide shoulders and the same thick dark eyebrows, brown eyes. The Vandals tattoo is in the same place on Thomson’s forearm too. But it’s Thomson’s distinctive way of standing that convinces Walker. It’s the same broad, open and bullish stance, head slightly forward, shoulders too, that Walker had noticed on Harris the first night he’d arrived.
Great work, Phil, he writes back. Looks like we found Billy Thomson.
If Billy Thomson is hiding away from Markovich and the Vandals up here, does that make it more or less likely that he’d murder Mark Bailey and Karen Mullins, wonders Walker. On the one hand, he might be reluctant to draw attention to himself; on the other, the chance to steal an opal and make a fortune, combined with his history of violence, could mean that temptation has overridden caution.