Rimis sat back in his chair and ran his hands down his face. Maybe he’d been too hard on Brennan. He knew first hand what it was like to go against popular opinion. In the Winfred case wasn’t he the only one who’d believed Kevin Taggart was a serial killer? Everyone else had thought he was a gifted artist, including Brennan.
Brennan had been chosen for an undercover assignment into an art fraud racket in Eastern Sydney. But what had started off as a straightforward case quickly turned into a major murder and drug investigation. Rimis knew if it hadn’t been for his doggedness, Jill would have been Kevin Taggart’s next victim.
He could at least give Calloway’s death a day or two of his team’s time, for Brennan’s sake. They could look into it in conjunction with their other cases. Rimis stood up from behind his desk and walked down the corridor to the detectives’ room. He headed straight for Matt Chapman’s workstation.
‘Find anything on Calloway’s laptop, Matt?’
Detective Matt Chapman sat upright removed his dark-framed glasses and put down what remained of his sandwich. He’d been looking at the laptop before Rimis had interrupted him. ‘There’s nothing special about it, boss. You could buy one of these at any electrical store for a good price, especially if they were on sale. Still using Windows XP, a bit slow and out-dated, but does the job well enough.’ He wiped his mouth with a white napkin. ‘I found a range of browsing sites, a bit of soft porn amongst it all, nothing too erotic though, no anal sex, gang bangs or threesomes. His taste was for blondes with big tits, Caucasians mainly.’
Rimis cleared his throat and shifted his feet. ‘Get on with it Chapman.’
‘Sorry, boss.’ Matt Chapman’s face reddened. He replaced his glasses and sat forward in his chair. ‘If you ask me, Calloway had nothing to hide.’ He tilted the computer screen back so Rimis could see it better.
‘What about Facebook?’ Rimis leaned towards the computer screen.
‘Just the usual snaps of pretty girls, him at the beach with his surfboard,
drinking with mates, that sort of thing. A few photos of him at a racecourse, looked like Royal Randwick to me. He definitely liked to party. But there’s one name that keeps popping up. Fin, no last name, no photo tag. Don’t know whether they’re male or female. Could be a nickname.’
Rimis crossed his arms. ‘Fin’s his sister.’
Chapman nodded. ‘Thought you’d want to know, there are a few photos of Jill amongst them.’
Rimis raised his eyebrows. ‘Nothing compromising?’
‘No. All pretty innocent.’
‘Anything else?’
‘He visited a few chat rooms, message boards, tweeted.’
‘Were there any visits to suicide sites, mental health helplines, gambling sites, that sort of thing?’
‘He logged onto Beyond Blue and the Black Dog Institute forums a couple of times, but he didn’t interact. He also logged on to a site called The Friends of Callan Park, and an online gambling site. As far as I could see, he didn’t place any bets.’
‘When did he last use his laptop?’
Chapman passed him a print of the screen capture. ‘This was what he was looking at before he logged off at 7.36 pm the night he died.’
Rimis took the sheet of paper, looked at it for a moment. ‘Know what it is?’
‘A continental goods warehouse in Chatswood. I had a quick look at the building’s paperwork but it all looks legit.’
Rimis folded the sheet in two and put it in his pocket. ‘Have you had a chance to check his mobile phone and emails?’
‘We’ve made a list of recent calls he made and received. Rawlings is going through them now, matching names and addresses. He’s also checking the photos taken by the police photographer of the cars parked in Glover Street last night.’ Chapman rolled his shoulders back. ‘I’ve gone through most of his emails but there was nothing worth noting. I found some other photos, sandstone and derelict buildings, long verandahs, and grassy parklands. Also there are some photos of houses. They look like workman’s cottages to me, could be in Rozelle or Balmain. I’ll email copies to you, if you want.’
‘Good work, Matt.’
On his way back to his office, Rimis tugged at his tie and made a mental note to clear the web browsing history from his computer.