Scrublands(36)

‘Sergeant Walker, the story I came to write was how Riversend is coping a year after the shooting. That’s evolved a bit. I’m also interested in what the locals think of Byron Swift. I’ve been surprised to find that some people remember him rather fondly. Does that surprise you?’

‘When you’ve been a policeman as long as I have, nothing surprises you.’

‘What about yourself? Did you know Swift?’

‘No, not well. I would meet him on occasion. I know old Reverend Samuels was very pleased to have him here.’

‘Who is Reverend Samuels?’

‘He was the local Anglican minister here for fifty years or so. But he was getting too old to run the parish by himself, so they sent Swift to do the legwork for him. Seemed to work well, from what I can tell. But I’m not the one to ask. Not a churchgoer, you’ll understand.’

‘Is Reverend Samuels still in town?’

‘No, they retired him pretty soon after Swift died. He couldn’t cope with the workload by himself and I guess they didn’t have any more young priests to send to help. There’s a new man here now, Vietnamese fellow, Thieu. You can look him up, but he’s only been here about four months. There was another bloke filling in for a few months in between.’

‘I see. You say you didn’t know Swift very well, but did you have any impression of him at all?’

‘Back then I thought he was a very conservative, well-mannered, well-presented young man. Now I know different.’ Double belly pat.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Okay, now we get to the guts of it. Remember, off the record, not attributable.’

Martin nods, watching the policeman drum his gut, considering his words.

‘Byron Swift was a murderer. You know that. He was also a paedophile. You know that too. But what you won’t know is that he was also a man without a past. And he was protected by powerful and influential people.’ The hands are still, the eyes are locked on Martin’s.

Martin holds the gaze for a moment before transcribing the comments into his notebook. His hands are a little shaky, but it’s nothing to do with his hangover. Shit, he thinks, he’s going to tell me everything.

‘Okay,’ he says aloud, ‘let’s take those one at a time. Murderer. He shot five people dead at St James. Is there any evidence that he killed before?’

‘Evidence? That’s a precise word. Maybe not evidence, but a strong suggestion.’

‘Can you take me through it?’

‘Sure. After the shooting, the investigation started looking at his past. At first glance it was straightforward. He was sent up here about three years ago, not long after he was ordained. He’d come from Cambodia, where he’d been working for a Christian charity. Before that, he was training in Perth, including a theology degree at Murdoch University that he didn’t finish. Before that, another half-finished uni degree; before that, state school in Western Australia. An orphan, a ward of the state.’

‘And?’

‘And it’s bullshit. There really was a Byron Swift born near Perth. He was an orphan and a ward of the state; he did go to school in Perth, living with various foster families. He went to uni for a while, before dropping out and travelling overseas. He worked for the charity in Cambodia all right, where he died of a drug overdose aged twenty-four. Except there is no record of that. None. The record of the death has been expunged from official records. Expunged. Officially, Byron Swift died last year from bullet wounds in Riversend.’

‘How do you know then?’

‘Sorry, can’t say. Take my word for it.’

‘Okay. Go on.’

‘What else can I tell you?’

‘If the man Robbie Haus-Jones shot dead wasn’t Byron Swift, who was he?’

‘I can’t say for sure, but if I had to guess, I’d say a former soldier. He had a tattoo that indicated he’d been in Afghanistan. Special forces. SAS. A couple of us on the investigation were thinking of exhuming the body, getting DNA.’

‘Where’s he buried?’

‘Here. Just down the road, in the town cemetery.’

‘Do you think it’ll happen? The exhumation?’

‘I doubt that very much.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because we’ve been warned off. That part of the investigation has been ruled out of bounds.’

‘By whom?’

‘No idea. Way up the food chain. Understand, I’m just local liaison; the investigation is being run out of Sydney. And there’s not a lot of appetite for digging into this, if you’ll pardon the pun.’

‘A cover-up?’

Walker considers his response, but not for long. ‘I think so. Although there would also be pragmatists who simply don’t see the point of investigating any further. We know who the perpetrator was and what happened to him. Case closed. A coroner’s inquest to tie up loose ends, but no criminal case.’ ‘That’s strange. Someone else said almost exactly the same thing to me this morning.’

‘Wise person. Wouldn’t have been young Robbie, by any chance?’

‘No, it wasn’t. But let me ask you this: if all the police are interested in is solving crimes and catching crims, why are you still interested in what happened?’