It was 6.30 am. Jill found a parking space in the station car park and was about to turn the engine off when she saw Rimis running towards her. She pressed the passenger window release button.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
Rimis got into the passenger seat and yanked at his seatbelt. ‘Drive.’
‘Where are we going?’ Jill put the car into reverse, sending droplets of dew dribbling down the windscreen.
‘Callan Park.’ Rimis folded his arms across his chest.
‘What’s happened?’ Jill drove out of the station car park, slamming Rimis back into the seat and headrest, siren and lights flashing. She flicked the indicator on and turned left at the traffic lights on Archer Street and headed towards Mowbray Road.
Rimis gave her a sideward glance. ‘There’s just been a call to triple zero. A kid’s found a body by the tower at Callan Park. It’s Patrick Hill.’
A film of mist hung over the same car park Jill had driven into the night Robbie had died. With the pre-dawn light barely visible she pulled up behind a patrol car with its flashers on. A uniformed officer got out of the car ahead and walked up to the driver’s side. It was Constable Patullo. Jill powered down the window.
‘A bit like Groundhog Day isn’t it?’ Patullo said.
Rimis leaned over and said. ‘What have we got?’
Patullo wiped a drip from the end of his nose. ‘A kid on his way to work decided to take a shortcut. I bet he wishes he didn’t now. He’s in shock. The ambulance isn’t far away.’
Rimis and Brennan unbuckled their seat belts, got out of the car and followed Patullo to the patrol car. Patullo opened the rear passenger door. The boy got out. He was wearing a plastic rain poncho, the type available at any discount store. There was an intense smell of rain, wet plastic and fear about him.
The music from his headphones was so loud Rimis grabbed them and pulled them from his ears. The boy was jabbering, not making much sense.
‘Slow down, son,’ Rimis said to him. ‘Just calm yourself, take a deep breath and then you can tell me your name and what this is all about.’
He couldn’t be more than sixteen, Jill thought.
‘My name’s Jordan Brandt.’
‘You made the emergency call, Jordan?’
‘Yeah. There’s a freakin’ dead body over there by the tower. He’s just sitting there, man. I thought he was asleep, but he didn’t look right. I called out to him, but he didn’t answer me. I went over to him to ask if he needed help. That’s when I saw the hole in his head.’
‘What time did you find him?’ Rimis asked.
Jordan took his phone from his pocket and checked the time. His hand was shaking. ‘About fifteen minutes ago.’
‘Did you phone anybody else? Take photos?’ Jill asked.
‘No I didn’t take photos. And I only called my mum.’
‘Give me your phone. I don’t want you making any more calls or texting your friends,’ Jill said. ‘Or posting anything on Facebook or Twitter.’
‘Did you touch him?’ Rimis asked.
‘What?’
‘Did you touch him?’
‘No, of course I didn’t. I knew there was nothing I could do.’ The boy’s nose was dripping. ‘I watch CSI. I know you’re not supposed to contaminate the crime scene.’
Jill noticed the look on Rimis’s face. He wanted to smile but didn’t.
‘What were you doing here, anyway?’ Jill asked.
‘It’s a short cut. I can save myself ten minutes if I cut through the park. I catch the bus on Balmain Road to the city. I’ve got a part-time job at the Four Seasons Hotel. I’m a kitchen hand there and I should be at work now. I’m going to get the sack, I just know it.’
‘You’ll have to wait here,’ Rimis said. ‘We’ll have more questions for you later. And we’ll need a statement from you.’
Jill watched Rimis as he took control of the scene. Back up and the ambulance had arrived and the uniforms were cordoning off the area with police tape.
‘You okay, Jordan?’ Jill asked him.
The boy returned his earplugs to his ears and pulled up his hoodie. ‘What do you think, lady? I just found a dead body, didn’t I?’