St Kilda Blues (Charlie Berlin #3)(79)
‘Which I’m guessing you’ve seen. That right?’
Sunderland’s smile was all the answer Berlin needed. Had Bob Roberts spoken to the wrong person by mistake while trying to keep things under wraps, he wondered?
‘That’s right, I’ve seen it all and pretty damn grim it is. Tomorrow morning a special edition of the Truth will be published revealing that we have had amongst us a monster who prayed upon young girls, a monster who took his own life in the end in remorse. There are no bodies to be recovered, sadly, but by his own written admissions police have identified the killer. No thanks of course to the ineptitude of certain senior members of the police force and government, who until now seemed almost blissfully unaware of the existence of this monstrous predator or worse still have perpetrated a cover-up. The afternoon papers and the TV and radio news people will be all over it after that, like flies on shit.’
‘That’s a pretty accurate analogy, for you and your paper. And I’m guessing this allegation of police ineptitude will be an ongoing theme? Proving the need for a new broom right up to the very top of the police force and embarrassing the government.’
‘There are a lot of people who think it’s time for a change. People with influence, people who see me as useful in achieving what they want.’
‘It’s must be nice that someone sees you as useful for something Warren. And these people, the people with influence, they want a change of government?’
Sunderland laughed out loud. ‘God no! They’ve got exactly the government they want; they just think it’s time for a change of leadership. Mr Bolte’s had a good run but he’s pushing sixty and times are changing, any bugger can see that. Ronald Ryan got hung like Bolte wanted but the popularity boost didn’t eventuate, and even if it had it was only ever going to be temporary; the average voter has a pretty short memory.’
Ryan was a hard-core crim who’d been executed in Pentridge at the start of the year for the murder of a prison guard during an escape attempt. A lot of people, Berlin included, had felt that some of the evidence presented at Ryan’s trial was questionable at best and his hanging had started an intense community debate on the morality of capital punishment.
‘The people I know think Bolte wants to ride it out to the next election and if he does and his popularity keeps declining who knows what could happen. New blood, younger blood is what’s wanted, so they’re looking for ... ‘
‘Some way to force the premier out?’
‘An orderly transition is always best, they tell me, but not always possible. People sometimes believe they are due certain rewards, perhaps for their patience, their diligence, or sometimes simply for things they know or think they know. Timing is crucial in transitions and also in the events that lead up to them. Inquiries and crimes solved or perhaps unsolved can alter perceptions.’
Berlin could imagine the smoke-filled room in some exclusive gentlemen’s club up on Spring Street where they had fêted Sunderland and splashed the single malt whisky about while hiding their contempt for the man.
‘So where do I stand in all this?’
‘If you keep shtum, keep your trap shut and walk away from this case today, I’m told there will be no repercussions for you, personally or career wise. In fact, in time there might even be a promotion. Following tomorrow’s revelations and what comes after I have no doubt the police will be undergoing a bit of a shakeup. Over the next few months heads will certainly roll, which means positions in the higher ranks will open up. This of course is an unfortunate reality but one you coppers have to live with.’
‘You have to be bloody mad, Warren. There’s still a killer out there somewhere. ‘
‘Sez you, and right now there’s a shitload of evidence that says exactly the opposite. But suppose you’re right. If someone is still out there then they’re going to realise they’ve had a bloody close call and pull their head in for a while. And once we publish those pictures, well the less gruesome ones anyway, do you reckon any of the mums and dads are going to let their precious little daughters out any time after the sun goes down? Probably kill the local dance scene stone dead but that’s no loss. Get people back in the pubs where they belong.’
‘You really are mad, Warren, you and the people you’re working for. We’re talking about people’s lives here, young girl’s lives.’
‘No we’re not, Charlie, we’re talking politics and that trumps everything.’
It was the sneering tone in Sunderland’s voice that did it. The punch was awkward, given the relative position of the two men, the cramped space and the fact that Berlin was a right-hander. His left fist caught Sunderland just under the jaw and while clumsy the blow still had some power. The cigar tumbled down to the expensive carpet on the floor under the steering wheel while Sunderland’s head snapped back and smacked hard up against the driver’s side window.
As much as Berlin despised the man he had to admire Sunderland’s recovery. He sat back up slowly and rubbed his jaw, before reaching down between his legs for the still lit cigar. Berlin’s nose caught the smell of charred wool from the carpet.
The reporter worked his jaw left and right a couple of times. ‘Not bad, I heard you used to box, back before the war. I’ve had worse though, it comes with the job.’
Berlin flexed the fingers of his left hand but nothing felt broken. ‘This is all bullshit, Sunderland, and you know it. I can go straight into Russell Street right now and talk to the higher ups. Some one is going to listen.’