Thirty-three

Day 13

East Perth Police Department

7.50 a.m. Friday, 6th November 1965

The breakfast Cardilini swallowed wanted to return to his mouth. He’d arrived early at East Perth and sat smoking at his desk. He recalled some of the nervous characters he had grilled in the interview rooms. With ten minutes to go he went up to the third level where the internal investigation interview was to take place.

‘You okay, Detective Sergeant Cardilini?’ his union repre­sentative, Mrs Burns, asked as they sat in the corridor. She was a dowdily dressed, middle-aged woman with poorly-bleached hair clutching a large cloth bag to her lap like a security cushion. Her arrival surprised Cardilini, not just because of her appearance but because union reps weren’t a usual addition to the East Perth station. Any station for that matter. Most employees saw their allegiance to their colleagues and the department before the union. Even being seen with a union rep could be considered an act of betrayal.

‘Fine,’ Cardilini replied.

Two uniformed police walked past with curious glances to Cardilini and Mrs Burns.

‘You won’t be able to smoke inside,’ Mrs Burns informed Cardilini.

‘Since when?’

‘You need to appear a little concerned,’ she cautioned.

‘I’m concerned. Why do you think I’m smoking?’

‘I think you should put it out before we go in,’ she instructed warmly.

Cardilini shrugged.

‘Did you know Mossop is coming to the station?’ Mrs Burns asked.

‘No. Why?’

‘They might want to verify your comments.’

‘How can he verify my comments? He’s made the whole thing up.’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘So why are you here?’

‘We were asked to come. Maybe they’re taking it seriously this time,’ Mrs Burns said with a tinge of moral indignation.

‘Great.’

‘It’s part of a new look.’

‘Wonderful. So what’re you going to do?’

‘As I said, we aren’t usually invited.’ Mrs Burns smiled comfortingly. ‘Hopefully, you’ll be believed.’

‘Hopefully?’ Cardilini burst. He wasn’t comforted and lit a second cigarette from the first.

‘If I was a detective,’ Mrs Burns smiled again, ‘I would think you’re looking nervous.’

‘If you were a detective, you’d be right.’

***

‘You have the charges, Cardilini?’ asked Winfield, the internal investigating officer. Chapman, his offsider, took notes. Cardilini knew them both well. Detectives rotated through the internal investigation branch. Cardilini had done a stint too. The thinking was, only those who knew how things worked would know when a policeman overstepped the boundaries.

‘Charges?’ Cardilini corrected, ‘Complaint, surely?’

‘Complaint. Sorry.’

‘Thank you,’ Cardilini said.

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Burns echoed. The two investigating officers looked at her then at each other.

‘No need for you to do that,’ Chapman said. Mrs Burns nodded.

Winfield queried the presence of Mrs Burns with a glance to Cardilini. Cardilini shrugged.

‘Okay. So did you expose yourself?’ Winfield asked.

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘An older boy, Carmody, brought the boy, Mossop, to you and you told Constable Salt to go with Carmody, and leave you alone with Mossop.’

Cardilini shook his head frustrated. ‘Not to leave me alone with Mossop, but for Salt to further the investigation, you idiot.’

Winfield and Chapman exchanged annoyed glances.

‘Mossop is alone with you when you expose yourself,’ Chapman said.

‘I didn’t expose myself,’ Cardilini shouted.

‘That is in dispute,’ Winfield said.

What?’ Cardilini asked.

‘In dispute,’ Winfield said. ‘We don’t know the truth of the matter.’

‘Winfield, I’m telling you the truth. There isn’t a dispute,’ Cardilini insisted, ignoring Chapman.

Winfield turned uncomfortably towards Mrs Burns.

‘Winfield?’ Cardilini called.

‘Cardilini, hang on,’ Winfield replied.

‘Did you ask the boy exactly what he claims he saw?’ Cardilini asked.

Winfield drew back in disgust. ‘No.’

‘Not that, you moron. He said I showed him a picture, yes?’

‘Right, he said you showed him a picture of a boy with his pants down.’

‘Good. Did he say it was his picture? With his name on it?’

‘Was it?’ Winfield asked.

‘Ask him. He’s here, isn’t he?’

‘Cardilini, you’re not in charge of this. Get that straight,’ Chapman remonstrated with a look to Mrs Burns.

‘Yes. Fine. I understand that. I’m only trying to help. Right, Mrs Burns?’

Mrs Burns looked to Winfield and Chapman before she replied, ‘Yes.’

‘Chapman, check that with the boy,’ Winfield instructed.

‘Get him to explain how he knew the figure didn’t have his pants on,’ Cardilini said. Winfield nodded his confirmation and Chapman begrudgingly left.

Winfield and Cardilini exchanged a number of communicative glances; Winfield indicated Mrs Burns’ presence was a surprise to them, Cardilini indicated similar while Mrs Burns inspected the architraves. Chapman returned and nodded in the affirmative. Cardilini waited before asking, ‘What did he say?’

‘The figure had his pants around his ankles,’ Chapman replied.

‘Thank you.’ Cardilini reached into his inside coat pocket and put Mossop’s sketch in front of them, ‘That’s his sketch. There’s his name. The figure has trousers on.’

‘Hard to determine. Not much of an artist.’ Winfield pushed the sketch to Chapman.

‘There’s nothing around his ankles,’ Chapman said.

‘No.’ Cardilini reached for the sketch. ‘Evidence in an investigation,’ he said to Chapman and pushed the sketch for Mrs Burns to view.

‘He lied about that. Why? Surely that makes everything else he said suspect?’ Cardilini demanded.

Winfield and Chapman conferred.

Winfield unwillingly looked towards Cardilini. ‘Another boy saw you doing up your fly.’

‘Oh. Great. Who?’

‘We don’t have a name,’ Winfield said, avoiding Cardilini’s gaze.

‘You’re kidding me?’ Cardilini burst.

‘We were told just before we came in.’

‘Who told you?’

‘The deputy commissioner.’

Cardilini sat stunned as he stared at Chapman and Winfield. They stared back mutely.

‘What?’ Mrs Burns asked.

‘Anonymous comments aren’t normally considered evidence in complaint cases,’ Cardilini said. ‘Are they?’ he confirmed with Winfield.

‘No,’ Winfield replied.

‘Oh. It could still be good then?’ Mrs Burns smiled at Cardilini.

‘No,’ he retorted, then asked, ‘Where do we go from here, Winfield?’

‘We’ll have to get back to you.’

Winfield and Chapman left the room exchanging confused glances with Cardilini.

‘So, is that it?’ Mrs Burns asked.

‘Yep. That’s it for now.’

‘Oh, well. Nice meeting you, Cardilini.’

‘Likewise.’

Cardilini watched Mrs Burns walk away with a casual air of achievement and wished he could feel the same way.

***

He was standing at the urinal considering why the interview had been hijacked with the arrival of Mrs Burns and the presence of Mossop at the station, when Mossop walked in and stood at an adjoining urinal.

‘Good afternoon, sir.’

‘Mossop?’ Cardilini blinked several times to reassure himself that it was, in fact, Mossop.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘How are you enjoying your trip to the police station?’ Cardilini asked looking towards the door.

‘Not my first time. We pinched some bamboo from the Memorial Park in Narrogin for our high jump. The gardener hauled us in. That was the first time.’.

‘Okay. So why did you make up your story?’ Cardilini asked, trying to assume an air of ‘all this is quite natural’.

‘I can’t explain it exactly. But it’s the right thing to do.’

‘Oh, is it? How do you work that out?’ Cardilini demanded.

‘You were setting out to damage the school.’

‘Oh yeah. Who’s the other witness?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Carmody put you up to this?’ Cardilini said finishing up.

‘What happens is up to you,’ Mossop articulated carefully.

‘I see. You can tell Carmody,’ Cardilini said sharply, ‘it’s another loose ball.’

‘It’s another loose ball?’ Mossop repeated.

‘Yes, it won’t work. That’s it. Did you come in here on purpose?’

‘Yes, sir, to say, “What happens is up to you.”’ Mossop exaggerated his shake and adjustment.

Cardilini nearly laughed, before asking, ‘And if I satisfied Carmody, would you say you made it all up?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Wouldn’t the school see that as very bad of you?’

‘It’s complicated, sir,’ Mossop said and left, leaving Cardilini shaking his head in disbelief. He anticipated a squad outside the door poised to arrest him, but when he left there was no one in sight.

He walked to the detective’s office. Half his colleagues were at their desks. No one called a greeting.

‘What don’t I know?’ Cardilini called out.

‘Deputy Commissioner was down here. Wanted to know if anyone had knowledge of you abusing suspects. No one said anything,’ Spry said with a glance to the office entrance.

‘Thanks.’

‘Stop looking for skeletons,’ Spry said.

Cardilini nodded his understanding. Skeletons at St Nicholas were the last things the old boys would want. And Deputy Commissioner Warren wasn’t going to let it happen on his watch, was he?

The accidental shooting report had been completed. So why is that fat copper still sniffing around? Cardilini figured that question had been asked a few times. A good question, too. Cardilini wished he knew the answer.

‘Not wanted here. Going home,’ Cardilini said into Bishop’s office.

‘Sounds good to me,’ Bishop replied without looking up.

***

‘Detective Cardilini.’

Cardilini turned. Salt walked down the corridor towards him.

‘Salt.’

‘Sir, would I be able to talk to you?’

‘About you being a past St Nicholas boy?’ Cardilini asked.

‘I wanted to tell you.’

Cardilini shook his head. He didn’t want to talk to Salt. He saw him as part of the whole machine that was corralling him.

‘I heard the deputy commissioner has come up with another eyewitness,’ Salt said.

‘Now how do you think that came about?’

‘It’s not the school. I know that for a fact. I thought you should know.’

‘Who then?’

‘Carmody.’

Cardilini nodded. ‘But why for heaven’s sake?’

‘I think some boys would follow Carmody into the trenches,’ Salt replied. Cardilini sighed in disbelief. Salt continued. ‘I remember, even in second form Carmody was a leader. He would stand up to all the third form boys who would traditionally bash second formers. He just wasn’t intimidated by them. Even when he was flattened in a fight, he was defiant and he never dobbed.’

‘Sounds like a thug,’ Cardilini said but didn’t believe it.

‘He was good enough for the first eleven when he was in fourth form.’

‘So he can play cricket. Big deal.’

‘He stood by Lockheed even though he knew it would cost him head boy,’ Salt said.

Cardilini nodded and pushed open the front door to the station. Salt followed.

‘So why am I getting a lecture on Carmody?’

‘Sir, I think you need to take him seriously.’

‘You take him seriously; I think he’s an arrogant prick.’

Salt stayed step for step with Cardilini as he walked towards his car.

‘What is it, Salt?’

‘Do you still think Edmund was intentionally killed, sir?’

Cardilini had been waiting for the question, he smiled at the tremors in Salt’s voice and wondered how far his answer would be reported that night.

‘Not anymore. See you, Salt.’