25

There was a package on the driver’s seat of my car the next morning. It was in one of those green, flat-bottomed, recycled-plastic shopping bags that may have been an Adelaide invention, the logo of one of the major supermarket chains on the side. Inside the bag was an object wrapped in clean butcher’s paper and secured with duct tape. I pulled the tape away and removed the butcher’s paper. Under that were several sheets of newspaper, and inside those was a hammer that was tapered at both ends: a geologist’s hammer. It was caked in what looked like dried blood, almost black. I was careful not to touch it, but I noticed that the newspaper was dated the day of Hiskey’s murder.

I made three calls. The first was to Tasso to let him know what I’d found. The second was to Bert. I asked him to get in touch with Chris and Paul and tell them what to say. Third, I called Tarrant.

It didn’t take long for him to turn up with his sidekick Senior Constable McGarry. Neither was in the mood for smiling. Tarrant in particular looked parched and bitter.

‘Where is it, West?’

I gestured towards my car. ‘On the passenger side.’ I had left the driver’s-side door open, and he looked in from there, not touching the car.

‘So it was there when you came out this morning?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Just appeared?’

‘Almost miraculously.’

‘Was the car locked?’

‘It was locked last night. I don’t know if it still was this morning. I just clicked the remote. I wasn’t paying much attention.’

‘And you don’t know who put it there.’

‘No.’

‘Fuck me, West. Somehow everything happens around you but you never see anything, hear anything or know anything. You must be deaf, dumb and blind. And brain-dead.’

A marked police car arrived with a couple of marked middle-aged policemen in it. They donned white overalls and hairnets and took photos, first of the car, including the door lock, and then of the hammer and its wrappings. Tarrant put on a pair of disposable rubber gloves and picked up the hammer by the middle of its shaft. He looked at it closely and gave it to the forensic boys, who put it and the wrappings in clear paper bags and started inspecting the car.

‘We can go now,’ said Tarrant.

‘Goodbye.’

He laughed, not pleasantly. ‘You’re coming with us.’

We drove to the police station on Wakefield Street, neither Tarrant nor McGarry saying anything. We parked under the building and took the lift to the ground floor. They made me wait a while and then ushered me into a surprisingly pleasant interview room with comfortable chairs and cream-coloured walls.

‘What time did you get home last night?’ Tarrant said when we were all settled.

‘About two.’

‘Where had you been?’

‘Visiting friends.’

‘Who?’

‘Just friends.’

‘I want their names.’

‘Chris and Paul.’

‘Their last names?’

‘I don’t know their last names.’

‘Good friends, are they?’

‘Becoming so.’

‘We will need to contact them.’

I looked at my phone and gave Tarrant their number.

‘Did you notice anything unusual when you got back to your place?’

‘No, nothing.’

‘Did you hear or see anything or anyone during the night?’

‘No.’

‘What about this morning? Notice anything?’

‘The first time I noticed anything out of the ordinary was when I saw the shopping bag on the seat of my car.’

‘Do you have any idea who put it there?’

‘None.’

‘Any idea why someone might have put it there?’

‘I suppose they wanted me to give it to you.’

‘Why you? Why not one of the other one point three million people in this city?’

‘No idea. As you say, things just seem to happen to me.’

‘Maybe it’s because out of everyone in this whole damn city you’re the person least likely to notice anything out of the ordinary.’

‘That could be it.’

‘Jesus, West. If this wasn’t all going on a tape that one day a jury might have to listen to, I would swear my fucken head off at you, I’m that fucken annoyed.’

‘I don’t see why you’re annoyed. Maybe this is the hammer that killed Hiskey.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, it’s a hammer. It’s got blood on it, or something that looks like blood. I’m just putting two and two together.’

‘You should be a detective.’

‘Maybe I should be. And maybe you should be thanking me rather than having a crack.’

‘The reason I’m annoyed, West, is that I don’t believe a fucken word you say.’

I was there for three hours, and never once did Tarrant bother to hide his annoyance. Eventually he stopped asking about the hammer.

‘There was a disturbance at a Mexican restaurant the other night,’ he said. He looked at his notes. ‘Tuesday night. It took a while for me to hear about it because I’m a homicide detective and no one connected it to this case. It may not be connected. Apparently a woman was dragged out of the restaurant by her hair, and two men were injured. One of them had a pencil stuck in his leg and another was knocked unconscious by a blow to the head. Know anything about it? We have eyewitnesses who identified you.’

‘Yes, then.’

He looked up sharply from his notes. He was surprised. No doubt he had been expecting another prevarication.

‘Who was the woman?’

‘She doesn’t want to press charges.’

‘Who dragged her out?’

‘She doesn’t want to press charges.’

‘Who stuck a pencil in the guy’s leg?’

‘Does he want to press charges?’

Tarrant looked at me for a long time. Then he stood up and motioned to McGarry with his head. They both left the room. A few minutes later McGarry came back.

‘He’s not happy with you,’ she said.

‘I can understand that, I guess.’

She sat looking at me.

‘Can I tell you something off the record?’ I said. ‘By which I mean, can you turn off the video?’

‘Wait a moment.’ She left the room and was gone for about five minutes. When she came back she said, ‘The video’s off, we’re not recording. But Tarrant is listening.’

‘Fine. All I wanted to say is that the woman is okay, she’s safe. She was badly beaten but she is being cared for and she is recovering, and it’s true that she doesn’t want to press charges. She’s been in a bad place but I have hopes she will recover, mentally I mean, and physically she’ll be fine. With all due respect, what she doesn’t need is to be interviewed by the police. Have you ever been in an abusive relationship?’

McGarry looked surprised at the question and took a moment to respond. Then she shook her head. I wasn’t entirely sure it was the truth.

‘It might be hard for you to understand, then,’ I said. ‘I can’t quite comprehend it, either, why she would stay for seven years with a guy who beat her up every second weekend. But now she’s out of it. And I truly believe that this episode had nothing to do with Hiskey’s death.’

‘You should let us be the judge of that.’

‘Maybe, but my first concern is for the woman. She’s been through hell for seven years. Can you understand that?’

‘Yes, I can understand.’

‘No one is pressing charges. Am I being charged with anything?’

‘No, not at the moment.’

‘So I can go.’

‘Yes. I’ll see you out.’ She walked me through the automatic doors at the front entrance of the building. Before I left she said, ‘I think I can see why Tarrant likes you.’

‘Likes me?’

‘Yes, in an irritated sort of way.’

‘The feeling’s mutual, then.’ We grinned at each other and I left.

Back in the office, Tasso had written comments on the exploration licence application, so I made a few adjustments and by the end of the day the application was ready to be submitted.