Forty-eight

Day 20

Kilkenny Road

2.45 p.m. Friday, 13th November 1965

Cardilini had managed to garden all day. However, his mind travelled again and again over any possible hard evidence that could be presented in court. No identifiable gun, no identifiable shooter. The bullet. He knew he had to find it and that it had to match a St Nicholas’ rifle. He needed the names of the boys Edmund was abusing, one of them must have picked up the bullet.

Standing, frustrated, sipping a cup of tea, he looked down one side of the house. The timber picket fence between his and the neighbour’s block was about a yard from his wall. On the other side of his house, the car could be driven to the rear past wild orange and lemon trees. He’d glanced in their direction a few times that day but didn’t feel any motivation to do anything about their lengthy, searching branches. Winter was the time for that, he reminded himself.

Along the front of the house, a low brick wall barely contained a variety of dishevelled shrubs. He placed his cup on the wall, then saw another cup sitting there. A tremor went through him. He tried frantically to remember when he had placed it there. He looked inside it. There was a layer of dried and crumbled leaves in its base. He felt sick, his legs folded and he collapsed on the wall. Betty could have left it there. His chest ached, his throat convulsed, he put his hands out to support himself. He stared at the cup, convulsions running through his body as tears dropped onto the brickwork.

He couldn’t remember crying sober, even at the funeral service. But now he found himself apologising through the convulsions and tears. Apologising for being so weak, apologising for being so selfish. His hand went towards the cup, then stopped beside it. He whispered his love to his wife, he made promises he let the sorrow take its course, he didn’t want to control it, and he didn’t want to run from it. He wanted to be honest with himself, Betty and Paul. He felt any future happiness depended on it. The dreams Betty and he had had for Paul depended on it.

Twenty minutes later, spent of grief but still propping his torso on his outstretched hands, a ringing broke into his awareness. He let it ring out. He sat up and wiped his eyes and cheeks on his sleeve. The ringing started again. He left both cups side by side and walked into the house.

‘Cardilini, it’s Leggett,’ the voice answered.

‘What can I do for you?’ Cardilini asked, spent, uncaring.

‘I thought you might like to come by this evening.’

‘No, thanks,’ Cardilini replied flatly.

‘A mutual friend is coming down briefly after the boarders’ dinner. Shall we say eight fifteen?’

‘No.’

‘You know who I mean?’

‘Carmody?’

‘Yes. Wouldn’t you like to talk to him?’

‘No.’

‘He would like to talk to you.’

‘He knows where I live and my phone number, no doubt,’ Cardilini said.

‘It’s not that easy for him to get away from the school.’

‘Each time I speak to that boy, I end up in deeper trouble.’

‘I know,’ Leggett said.

‘What do you know?’

‘I know what he’s doing. I want to make it stop.’

Cardilini paused. Could he believe the man?

‘You know that the shot that killed Edmund came from your side of the river?’ Cardilini asked.

‘I can’t answer that.’

‘Then I can’t come to meet Carmody.’

‘Would you be amenable to Jean driving Carmody and me to your house tonight?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘If I gave you my word no damage to your career would come from the meeting?’ Leggett asked.

‘Give me your word that no charges will ever be brought against me by the school,’ Cardilini bargained.

There was a pause. Cardilini expected to be angry at himself but he wasn’t. He remained calm, looked at his watch. Paul should be back soon.

‘You’re asking us to surrender a great deal,’ Leggett finally said.

‘You came up with the idea of bringing charges against me, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you can stop any charges. Either way, I’ll prove that you and your bloody board protected Edmund and now you have Carmody protecting his killer.’

Cardilini wondered if he was getting his copper’s head, back or if he just didn’t care anymore. No, he knew deep down that he cared. He became nervous. ‘I’m going out for an hour. You ring me with your answer,’ Cardilini said and hung up. He didn’t want to hear Leggett’s voice any longer. He showered and changed back into his day clothes.