Forty-one

Day 19

East Perth Police Department

11.50 a.m. Thursday, 12th November 1965

Port Augusta to Perth was 1500 miles. Adelaide to Perth was 1800 miles. Between Ceduna and Eucla was 320 miles of dirt. Cardilini considered the possibility of driving it. Then he checked the time the train left Adelaide and arrived in Perth. It would have arrived in Perth the morning of the 26th, nearly 36 hours after leaving Adelaide. By car, either from Adelaide or Port Augusta, averaging 60 miles per hour, it was possible to arrive to Perth and make it to St Nicholas College with a few hours to spare.

Cardilini knew that Sheppard’s Chevrolet Impala would have the big block 409 cubic inch motor. A car that no vehicle in the traffic branch could chase down. Sheppard and Doney could have attended the Elders sale, greeted old friends, then late at night been on the road to Port Augusta or Adelaide, arriving hours before the train. Williamson could have easily joined them and then they’d have taken turns driving non-stop to Perth.

***

‘Why aren’t you out playing golf?’ Detective Spry asked Cardilini as he walked into the East Perth detective offices.

‘I don’t play golf.’

‘You’re suspended. You’ve got to have something to do.’

‘Nup.’ Cardilini proceeded to his desk.

‘When you were meant to be working you were always at the pub. Now you’ve got an excuse to be at the pub, you come in? You need your head read, Cardilini.’

Cardilini had compiled a list of service stations from Eucla to Perth. Balladonia, Norseman, Kalgoorlie, Yellowdine, Southern Cross, Merredin and Northam were towns they would have passed through. The Impala would have needed at least four petrol stops and Doney, Sheppard and Williamson would have needed to eat.

On his first call to the Border Village station near Eucla, an attendant remembered a Chevrolet Impala. Two-tone, plum and cream. It came in on the evening of the 24th. Cardilini sat dumbfounded; this could be his first actual evidence.

They were running late, Cardilini thought. With 1200 miles to Perth still to go, taking roughly 24 hours. But they must have made it. The attendant’s description of the driver: ‘An old guy. I think.’ He didn’t note the number plate. ‘Why would I?’

If they stopped in Norseman no one remembered them. At Kalgoorlie an attendant remembered the car, he didn’t know what time it was or who was in it, ‘But it was late.’

‘Hi, I’m Detective Cardilini from East Perth station. I’m making enquiries about a two-tone Chevrolet Impala that might have got petrol mid-afternoon on the 25th.’

‘Midday.’

‘You remember it?’

‘Yes. Don’t see many. A cockie. Bloody farmers always complaining about how tough it is while they drive around in a Chevy Impala. I’d like things to be that tough.’

‘Do you remember who was in it?’

‘Three blokes. Two older and another, maybe a son of one of the farmers.’

I’ve got them, Cardilini thought. ‘How do you know they were farmers?’

‘Country plates. ‘

‘Did you remember the numbers?’

‘I’m not Sherlock bloody Holmes.’

Cardilini considered. They needed to average 70 miles per hour to arrive at Merredin at midday, so plenty of time to get to Perth. Now he needed a witness to say they saw the Impala parked near the school. He wanted to tell Williamson, Doney and Sheppard he knew how they managed to shoot Edmund.

‘Cardilini, Robinson wants to see you,’ Bishop called from the door to the detective’s section.

‘How did he know I was here?’

‘He must be psychic. Get going.’

***

‘Come in,’ Robinson said when Cardilini reached his door. Cardilini sat. ‘There’s been a shift in the complaint against you.’

‘Really?’ Cardilini said and thought, finally. The claw that had hold of the back of his neck released.

‘The Deputy Commissioner has had a call from Dr Braun.’

‘Okay.’

‘Yes. It seems a sixth form boy spoke to Mossop.’

‘Good to hear.’

‘I don’t know about that. He returned to Braun with the story that Mossop had convinced him that he wasn’t lying.’

‘What?’ Cardilini was forwards and squeezing the life out of the armrests of his chair. ‘That can’t be possible.’

‘I’m afraid it is.’

‘I warned the arrogant …’

‘Warned who?’

‘Carmody.’

‘When you were with Braun? And Braun saw you do it?’ A look of disbelief spread across Robinson’s face.

‘Yeah. No.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told Carmody I knew his role in disposing of evidence to Edmund’s murder.’

Robinson shouted, ‘What?’

‘I said he removed the rifle, boots and bullet.’

‘What rifle and boots?’

‘The ones that, I think now, were placed at the tree opposite Edmund’s window.’

‘Are you mad?’ Robinson looked genuinely concerned.

‘No.’

‘Okay. And you know this because …?’ Robinson asked.

‘I was told.’

‘Who told you?’

‘I can’t disclose that.’

‘Don’t talk rubbish, I’m your commanding officer, you tell me right now.’

Cardilini straightened his back. ‘Mr Masters.’

‘Masters, whose son hung himself?’

Robinson turned away from Cardilini and stood facing the window.

‘What will happen now?’ Cardilini asked.

‘Shut up. Let me think.’

‘Maybe if I go back to the school.’

Robinson turned. ‘Great plan. And who will you threaten this time? Did you threaten that boy in the toilet?’

‘No.’

‘But you threatened Carmody in front of witnesses?’

‘I warned him.’

‘Oh, wonderful. That makes a world of difference. What did the others think you were doing?’

Cardilini shook his head.

‘Were you alone with him?’ Robinson asked in disbelief.

‘Yep. I suppose.’

‘Oh boy. What happened, Cardilini?’ Robinson looked in­credulous. ‘You were such a smart cop.’

Cardilini wondered also. ‘What should I do now?’

Robinson walked to his chair and sat. Cardilini watched his movements.

‘What?’ Cardilini asked as Robinson fingered a typed sheet of paper on his blotter. ‘Nothing has really changed, has it?’ Cardilini asked when Robinson failed to answer.

Robinson sat back and squarely addressed Cardilini. ‘St Nicholas decided it was time to examine the claims about Edmund. Some Melbourne coppers are going to interview the principal of his previous school.’

‘As if he’ll say anything. He’ll be covering his own arse. And his job.’

‘You don’t know that.’

Cardilini looked away and wiped his brow.

‘That’s happening right now. But …’ Robinson was pushing the sheet of paper away with one finger and drawing it towards him with the other. ‘… this is not the deputy commissioner’s idea, nor mine … but, the feeling is we can’t ask Braun to pursue one line of accusations while we’re ignoring another.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means both sets of accusations will be dealt with without bias.’

‘What sets?’

‘As in the ones against Edmund and the ones against you,’ Robinson finished and sighed.

Cardilini looked back confounded. ‘What? I’m now ranked with Edmund?’

‘The board didn’t know about this until last night. Half my bloody night was spent on the phone. The deputy commissioner and I have appeared to sweep the complaint against you under the carpet, so we’re told.’

‘Who can tell you two that?’

‘A number of people, a high justice for a start. The right powerful voice in the commissioner’s ear and it all gets very sticky, very quickly.’

‘“Sticky”. Oh, I can cope with “sticky”. And all this last night?’ Cardilini asked.

‘Yes. Something lit a bonfire under them yesterday. It wasn’t your visit. We got through that amicably.’

‘Great.’ Cardilini said but kicked himself for thinking he could bully Carmody. ‘So what does this mean for me?’

‘Fortunately, you were already suspended. And you’re not speaking to anyone without running it past me. Right?’

‘Um …’ Cardilini started sheepishly.

‘Cardilini?’ Robinson threatened.

‘What if I could tell you how the shooting was done?’ Cardilini asked.

‘You have evidence? Evidence that will stand up in court?’

‘I don’t have a name. Just how it could be done by people capable and willing,’ Cardilini said.

‘You mean let’s smear a bunch of possibly innocent people to take the heat off you. That would look just dandy. Don’t you think?’

‘Robinson, you can’t hang me out to dry. Not now. What about Paul?’

‘Oh Jesus.’ Robinson sat up facing Cardilini. ‘I don’t know. There are people who could put this on the front page of the newspaper, the department has to be seen as —’

‘Bullshit. Come on. We’ve been fudging for years to cover our stuff-ups.’

‘Shut up, Cardilini. Don’t think you can threaten me.’

‘I’m not threatening you. I’m just saying how it is.’

‘I would have to disagree with you. If the deputy commissioner or commissioner hears that, you’ll be out of the force so fast your head will spin. Got it? This is me, not your super, me, telling you, don’t even think of going there.’

‘I’m not. Of course not. I’m not completely stupid. But what about Paul?’

‘Can we just get over this first?’

‘Robinson, give the kid a break!’ Cardilini shouted.

‘I know. Don’t worry. I know what it means. But believe me, now is not the time to rock the boat.’

‘Oh, Jesus. It’s over, isn’t it?’

‘No. No, I’m not saying that. There are people who don’t appreciate us raking over what Edmund got up to.’

‘Do you believe Edmund was abusing those boys?’ Cardilini asked and waited.

Robinson expelled a breath heavily and answered, ‘I think I do now.’

‘What changed your mind?’

‘Senior Constable Saunders, from Williams, but you know that. He and I were at Kellerberrin together. He rang me. Want to know what he told me?’

‘Yes.’

‘The Sheppard boy gave up footy and going out with his mates shortly before propping a rifle under his chin.’

‘Oh.’

‘Then I got a call from Constable Young at Fremantle. You know him. You could strike a match on him. He thinks the Doney boy drove himself into a tree.’

‘What’re you going to do about Saunders and Young?’

‘Nothing. Their reports were precise. They aren’t paid to speculate. They rang me by the by. They trust me.’

‘You told the board?’

‘A lot of resistance. There’s a group pursuing the coroner right now, and we both know he’ll not specify suicide in his findings. Some bull ant nests you shouldn’t poke at.’

‘Salt told you that?’ Cardilini asked.

Robinson nodded. ‘Yes. But maybe we’re all to blame for this mess. Don’t think you’re the only one in the firing line. As you pointed out, the deputy commissioner and I weren’t as thorough as we could have been in the initial investigation. You produce a murderer right now and it will be our blood on the floor.’

‘Surely, the minister could help. Christ, he owes us a favour,’ Cardilini stated.

‘And if we said anything about what we did to save his backside it would support the theory of police cover-ups. No thanks. Look, I just want you to know things could quickly move out of our control.’

‘Meaning?’

Robinson paused before saying, ‘There’s a push within the school board to bring a prosecution against you.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Would you come out squeaky clean? Factually, evidence-based, squeaky clean? Or are there things that could be brought up, such as lone meetings in toilets or elsewhere that could sink you?’ Robinson asked.

‘Oh, no.’ Cardilini hung his head.

‘Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me. Jesus, Cardilini.’

‘I could have been played from the beginning,’ Cardilini said.

‘Maybe, or maybe you went in as a disaster waiting to happen.’

‘What?’

Robinson replied. ‘You heard. Anyway, that’s what the shrink said. Can’t say I disagree.’

‘Shrink? Bloody Pudsworth? He’s a bloody idiot,’ Cardilini shot back.

‘Yeah, and I know you’ve told him on a number of occasions.’

‘Only because he is,’ Cardilini insisted.

‘Well, the worm has turned, Cardilini. I wouldn’t keep repeating that if I were you.’

‘But he is.’

‘Cardilini!’ Robinson warned.

‘Bloody hell.’

Robinson continued. ‘You’re going to go through the ropes on this one, as in by the book, so there’s a good chance you’ll have to front up to him sometime. Go home. If you’re capable of not upsetting things further, do so. If you can’t, don’t look to the department to save your backside. And remember, even if Edmund was doing what’s suggested, it still doesn’t mean he was murdered.’

‘No. Okay. What if all further investigation to do with Edmund were to stop? And the whole thing was forgotten? What would happen then?’

‘Is that what you’re proposing?’ Robinson asked.

‘Just asking?’

‘It would make a lot of people happy and get them off our backs.’

‘What about my back?’

Robinson considered for a moment then said, ‘I should think so.’

As he walked from Robinson’s office he repeated to himself, Save your arse, Cardilini, for the length of the corridor.

He stopped at Bishop’s door and asked, ‘This is your fault, Bishop. Why did you give me the St Nicholas case?’

‘Your mate Salt will be asking that too. He’s just been bounced to the Wickham police station. He went from a rooster to a feather duster real quick.’

‘Salt?’

Bishop nodded. ‘Yep. And you wonder why no one wants to work with you.’