Black Wattle Creek (Charlie Berlin #2)(57)

‘I’m not leaving until I know exactly what is going on around here. People have been lying to me for the past week, Jessop, starting with an undertaker last Friday and then you on Saturday and to tell you the truth I’m getting bloody sick of it.’

Jessop put the telephone down. He appeared to be unperturbed. ‘You are a policeman, are you not? I would have thought being lied to was a large part of the job.’

‘It is, but I get lied to by people who are actually good at it and you aren’t one of them, believe you me.’ Berlin could see uncertainty suddenly appear in Jessop’s eyes. How long was it since someone had called him on anything? he wondered. The bastard was starting to get rattled, which was a good thing from Berlin’s point of view. ‘And the people I mostly deal with, Dr Jessop, understand that at some point they stop lying, unless they want things to start getting nasty.’

Jessop put his hand on the telephone. ‘In a place like this, Detective Sergeant Berlin, of necessity we deal with physical violence on a daily basis. You don’t frighten me, I’m afraid.’

‘Yes I do, Dr Jessop, I frighten you quite a bit. And while you might order violence or observe it from a safe distance, I doubt you’re ever on the receiving end. That generally puts things in a whole different light.’

Berlin had spoken softly but he could see the doctor was getting the message.

‘Perhaps you have a point there.’ The doctor leaned back from the phone and picked up the dosimeter again. ‘Where did you find this, if I might ask?’

‘At the feet of the bloke who hanged himself, or that was what it was supposed to look like. One of your attendants, as it happens. His name was Len, Len Manning. Nice bloke, wife and kid.’

Jessop rolled the disk between his fingers. ‘That is most unfortunate, OS Berlin, and sadly I’m not on a first-name basis with the staff. I’m under a lot of pressure at the moment, you understand.’

‘Running an asylum with a steadily decreasing number of inmates wouldn’t seem to me to be a job fraught with difficulties. It appears you can make the time to visit the grieving widows of ex-soldiers to deliver flowers and condolences, and tell what I can only guess is some fairytale about ongoing service to the nation. And exactly what kind of business are you running that requires your people to wear radiation dosimeters?’

Jessop put the dosimeter back down on the blotter. ‘To be frank, our business here right now doesn’t require it but sometimes people like to keep souvenirs.’

Berlin dropped the plastic wallet he’d taken from Callahan on the desk. ‘Do all your Ninetymen have dosimeters as well as these cheap tin badges, Dr Jessop?’

Jessop picked up the wallet and opened it. He dropped it on the blotter next to the dosimeter after a moment and let out a slow sigh. ‘Ah, now it seems we have a problem, DS Berlin.’

‘How’s that?’

Jessop took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his finger tips. ‘As I said, it appears you have inadvertently stumbled upon something you don’t understand, and despite the warnings you don’t appear to know when to leave well enough alone.’

‘Perhaps I’m a slow learner.’

‘Perhaps. Or perhaps it is a sign of someone with a rapidly developing paranoid personality disorder.’ Jessop opened the desk drawer and took out the folder he had been reading when Berlin first arrived. He opened it and turned several pages. ‘Goodness me, it appears from your air force medical records that you returned from active service with very severe emotional problems. Problems complicated by excessive consumption of alcohol and illicit drugs. Perhaps these have been compounded lately by the stresses of police work and family life, leading to a more serious pathology.’

How the hell did Jessop get his hands on that file? Berlin wondered. ‘You’re not the first person to try to tell me I’m crazy, and I’m almost certain you won’t be the last.’

Jessop closed the folder. ‘Quite possibly not. But I’m almost certainly the first person able to immediately certify you as a danger to yourself and your family and the community at large. Without recourse to any kind of a hearing or appeals process.’ He smiled. ‘I could do it right now as a matter of fact. We could have you in restraints and in one of our vacant padded rooms within five minutes.’

‘If you’re trying to frighten me I should tell you I was once interrogated by the Gestapo and you’re not a patch on them, trust me.’

Jessop closed the folder. ‘Sadly I’ve already come to the conclusion that it would be difficult to frighten you. Difficult but not impossible.’

‘So you’re still going to try?’

‘It appears that you have put me in a position where I have no other option. Perhaps you might like to take off your coat and make yourself comfortable, DS Berlin. I do believe I will order that coffee now.’ He picked up the handset of the telephone. ‘And let me tell you, you are going to need it. And possibly something a little stronger after I finish.’





THIRTY-SIX


The pot of coffee came on a tray with cups and saucers, milk and sugar and a plate of assorted sweet biscuits. Berlin hoped the bloke who brought the tray in had washed his hands recently. Last time he’d seen him was a few hours ago, coming out of Callahan’s funeral parlour with Blue. He’d been carrying something wrapped up in canvas, holding the bundle out at arm’s length and not looking at all happy.