‘Was Drew missing?’ Baxter asked the police trio.
‘Mrs Drew phoned us yesterday morning and said that Jack hadn’t come home,’ a young two-striper answered. He was addressing himself to Lewis, whom he seemed to know and be on good terms with. ‘Considering Jack’s history, we weren’t too worried.’
‘You didn’t worry he was lost at sea?’ Lewis asked, his eyebrows raised.
‘No, because he wasn’t fishing. Well, he had been, earlier in the day, but he was at the Family Hotel in the evening. Before he left for the pub, he told his wife that he needed to meet someone there. That was the last she saw of him.’
Another police car pulled up at the wharf, followed by an ambulance. Two more officers walked along the jetty to join the trio around the body.
One was Senior Sergeant Cross, and Baxter was disturbed to realise that he seemed to be the highest-ranking officer of the group.
•
Baxter and Lewis gave verbal accounts of their discovery of Drew’s body and its exact location. The investigation heated up when Julie, in her capacity as medical examiner, carried out the post-mortem. Her findings brought more coppers to Moondilla—some came from Bega, while two plainclothes detectives drove down from Sydney.
Julie’s post-mortem revealed that the back of Drew’s skull had been crushed in several places. By drawing a long bow, it was possible to conclude that this damage had been caused by his head coming into contact with rocks at the Islands—but Julie didn’t think this was a feasible explanation. It might have been tenable if there’d been only one or two major depressions in Drew’s skull, but there were at least a dozen. It seemed someone had made certain that Jack Drew was dead before dumping his corpse out at sea.
Both Baxter and Lewis were asked to present themselves for further questioning at the police station. The coppers didn’t waste much time talking to Lewis. He answered a few questions, signed a statement and left.
Baxter was treated very differently. He was led into an interview room, the kind used for suspects being interrogated about a crime. It was featureless except for a one-way window, and the drab grey walls weren’t conducive to raising one’s spirits.
There were three police officers in the room. Two sat facing Baxter, and a third—Senior Sergeant Cross—sat against one wall. It seemed Cross seldom smiled; he reminded Baxter of a crow waiting to pick up scraps. He certainly did nothing to lighten the mood. The two plainclothes detectives wore suits and ties, and presented a much better image. They introduced themselves and told Baxter they’d come from Sydney.
One asked questions while the other took notes. The substance of the interrogation went as follows:
‘Mr Baxter, can you account for your movements last Friday evening?’
‘If I have to, but I don’t see the relevance. Your question is ill-directed.’
‘Let us be the best judges of the question’s relevance. We have information that you were seen in the vicinity of the Family Hotel at about the time Jack Drew left it. That was between six-thirty and seven p.m.’
Baxter laughed loudly. ‘Is that the best you can come up with? Your informant needs his eyes checked, and you should check your facts more carefully. Are you implying it was me who killed Jack Drew?’
‘How well do you know Elizabeth Drew?’
‘I can’t say that I know her very well, as I’ve met her only twice,’ Baxter said. ‘The first time, she and Drew were having an argument in the Family Hotel—he backhanded her and knocked her down. I picked her up and then I told Drew he was a mongrel to hit a woman. He threw a punch at me and I decked him. Then I drove Mrs Drew home.’
‘Subsequently you had another fight with Drew, didn’t you?’
‘I wouldn’t describe it as a fight. Drew came out to my place, mouthing off about what he was going to do to me. He was sober this time and he told me he was going to give me a hiding.’
‘So you broke his ribs and put him in hospital?’
‘That’s right. He attacked me and I defended myself. I gave him first aid, called an ambulance and then rang his wife. The second time I met Liz, she came out to pick up her car, accompanied by Julie—by Dr Rankin.’
The detectives glanced at each other. ‘And you haven’t seen Liz Drew since then, or spoken to her on the phone?’
‘I’ve spoken to her, yes—she called to thank me for fixing her husband. If you’re implying that I had a reason to kill Drew because of a liaison with his wife, you’re way off the mark. I had nothing against the man personally. He was simply an ex-pug who thought he was king of the heap and could get away with just about anything. I don’t have any regard for men who knock women about, and Drew paid the price for that.’
‘You haven’t said why you were in town Friday evening.’
‘That’s because I wasn’t in town. At the specific time you refer to, I was having dinner with the Lewis family at my house out by the river. Even Jesus Christ couldn’t be in two places at the same time,’ Baxter added, with biting sarcasm.
The note-taking detective got up and left the room. He returned in a few minutes and whispered in the ear of the detective conducting the interrogation.
‘It seems your story checks out,’ the interviewer said.
Baxter noticed a scowl appear on Cross’s face, before his expression became carefully blank. Cross was a decent actor, but not quite good enough.
‘Of course it checks out,’ Baxter said. ‘You fellows are way off the mark and wasting your time talking to me. It was a pretty hairy job getting Drew’s body off the rocks and with that bloody great shark close by. I had to gaff him in a good-sized swell and then hold him next to the boat the whole way in.’
At that description, the detectives both looked a bit green about the gills.
‘If you’re finished,’ Baxter said, ‘I’ll go now.’
‘We’re nearly done,’ the interviewer said. ‘Just a few more minutes.’
Baxter looked at each of the three officers, his eyes lingering on Cross. ‘I haven’t been here long,’ he said, ‘but it’s common knowledge that a certain well-known person in this town was out to get Jack Drew. This person has the hots for Mrs Drew. I’ll bet that he and the fellow who gave you the false and misleading information about my movements are one and the same. Or that the informant is a close associate of his. Either way, he’s the one you should be grilling.’
‘Why would this man pick on you?’
‘Because I make a good fall guy to take suspicion off the bloke or blokes who killed Drew,’ Baxter said. ‘Then there’s the fact that I publicly humiliated him.’
‘How did you do that?’
Baxter allowed himself a small smirk. ‘He tried to deck me, so I gave him a kick in the behind. Ask anyone in town—it’s common knowledge.’
The note-taking detective handed him a sheet of paper on which were drawn the six islets of the Islands. Then the interviewer said, ‘Mr Lewis told us that this cross marks the spot where you sighted Drew’s body and from which you recovered it. Is that your reading of the correct location?’
‘Absolutely,’ Baxter agreed, smiling. ‘There’s only one small discrepancy.’
‘Yes, what’s that?’
‘Neither Steve nor I actually discovered Drew’s body. It was my dog Chief who noticed him—Chief’s got a fantastic sense of smell. Us blokes were too busy reeling in and cutting my line because there was a tiger shark on it. Chief barked and pointed his nose towards the next islet, and I looked and saw the body. That’s if you’re interested in getting the story absolutely correct. If my dog hadn’t barked, we might have left Drew where he was. It’s a tricky place to be with a decent swell running.’
‘Thank you,’ the interviewer said, keeping his tone professional although his lips were tugging up at the corners. ‘You did a great job getting Drew’s body back here. I doubt we’ll need to talk to you again.’
‘I hope not, because you’d be wasting more of your time.’ This seemed to Baxter like a good opportunity to find out more. ‘Nobody’s told me,’ he said, ‘but I’m interested to know how Drew died. What killed him?’
‘The back of his head was crushed. He’d been hit many times with something heavy, like a piece of pipe or a club of some description.’
Baxter immediately thought of Verna Graham’s husband, Bob. He was found with a fractured skull. It supposedly happened when he fell overboard.
‘He was, eh?’ Baxter asked. ‘Hit from behind? Maybe by someone who wouldn’t face him front-on. I sure hope you nail the creep. Drew wasn’t a great man by any stretch, but he didn’t deserve to end up the way he did. And the talk was that he’d improved since the last walloping I gave him. Liz certainly thought so.’
Just before Baxter left the room, one of the plainclothes detectives winked at him. This made him wonder if the entire interrogation had been a ‘snow’ job—after all, the whole thing had been utterly absurd.
While Campanelli had probably tried to fit him for Jack Drew’s murder, it had been a very amateurish attempt. What concerned Baxter was what might happen next.
Once outside the police station he made a beeline for Moondilla Motors.
‘How did you finish up with the fuzz?’ Lewis asked, wiping engine grease from his hands. ‘I heard from Jane that they called her to confirm your alibi.’
Baxter told him the whole story, including his suspicions. Then their talk wandered back to fishing and plans to revisit the Islands. When Baxter thanked Lewis for taking him out on the boat and showing him the ropes, and asked if he could return the favour, Lewis mentioned that Jason might want some martial arts lessons. That sounded fine to Baxter—he reckoned he could help the boy get into shape.
‘Well, I’d best head off,’ Baxter said, looking at his watch. ‘Julie’s going to run me home. I left Chief with her and he’ll be worried about me.’