Читать книгу A Different Turf - Jon Cleary, Jon Cleary - Страница 7

When Malone and Kagal got back to Strawberry Hills, Kate Arletti was waiting in Malone’s office with a young uniformed policeman. ‘This is Darren Beane. He is the gay liaison officer at Surry Hills.’

He was a slim young man with close-cropped dark hair, regular features and an air of balance and restraint. He was what he was, he accepted it, and, without being aggressive about it, you could take it or leave it. He had a pleasant smile and a firm handshake. ‘Inspector. It’ll be a pleasure to work with you. Hello, John.’

‘You two know each other?’ Malone looked at Kagal.

‘We were at university together,’ said Kagal with a smile that said, What else were you thinking?

He went out to his desk in the big room and Malone sat down behind his own desk, motioning to Kate and Beane to take a seat. ‘How’d you get on with the lesbians, Kate?’

The question had a blunt rudeness to it that Malone hadn’t intended; but he noticed that Beane didn’t flinch. Kate said, ‘Not much response, sir. One of them, a reporter on the lesbian paper, was bashed on Saturday night, but they didn’t bother to report it to us. It’ll be in Friday’s issue of the paper.’

‘Did they say why they didn’t report it?’

‘They were a bit snarly. They think the boys are getting all the publicity.’

‘That’s because of the killings,’ said Beane. ‘So far the killers don’t seem to be riding herd on lesbians, only gay men.’

‘Maybe that will change now there’s a woman with them,’ said Malone. ‘With the killers, I mean. Do you go into the baths and pubs where the gay men congregate?’

‘Yes, sir. You want me to show you around?’

‘No, thanks.’ Malone smiled in an effort to take the edge off his reply. ‘No offence. It’s just not my scene. I’m going to have to rely on you younger people there. Have you picked up any gossip in the baths or the pubs? Are they discussing the murders?’

‘They weren’t at first, but they are now. There’s lots of guessing going on as to who the killers are, but that’s all it is – guesses. The one thing they’re all agreed on is that the killers must belong to the gay community.’

‘Do you think they are?’

Both young officers looked puzzled. Kate said, ‘Don’t you think they are?’

‘I have an open mind,’ said Malone, leaning back in his chair. ‘Which means I haven’t a clue. What if these people just like to kill and have chosen to do a public service, as they call it? They could be killing gangs that attack old ladies or girls travelling alone at night on the trains.’

‘I don’t think so, sir,’ said Beane. He had a certainty about him, a faith in his opinions. ‘These people are avenging gays.’

Even Kate looked at him, at the assurance in his voice.

‘You say that, Darren, as if you’re on their side.’

For the first time Beane looked uncertain; he beat a retreat

‘No, I’m not But doesn’t the evidence suggest that’s what they’re doing? I think all we can do is go on the evidence we have so far.’ Then he looked back at Malone and added, ‘Sir.’

‘Would you like to take a guess at who they might be?’ Malone’s voice and expression were bland.

Beane was just as expressionless. ‘No, sir. I’ve never been any good at guesswork.’

This bugger has his suspicions, but he’s not letting on.

‘It was suggested to me this morning by one of the bash victims that he wasn’t unhappy about the killers. The secret little army, he called it. Our secret little army was what he actually said. I don’t believe he has a clue who they are, but he felt no qualms about what they were doing. Killing people.’ He was still leaning back in his chair, but he was not at all relaxed. I’m pinning you down, son. ‘I hope you don’t feel like that?’

‘Not at all, sir. But if the killings stop the bashings, then something has been achieved, don’t you think?’

‘Darren,’ Malone said patiently, leaning forward, ‘if all the wife-beaters were killed off and the wife-beating stopped, do you think we – we police, I mean – do you think we should be satisfied with that? I don’t know what the attitude is over at Surry Hills, but here in Homicide we are paid to bring murderers to justice. That’s what these people are – murderers. If we catch them, they can argue their own case in court But I’m not playing advocate for them and neither is anyone who works for me. Understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Beane’s expression still hadn’t changed.

‘So long as you do understand it, Darren, we’ll be glad to have you working with us. Let me know if you hear anything, go around the baths and see what the gossip is.’

Beane stood up. ‘I’ll be in touch, sir. Will you be coming over to Surry Hills?’

‘Later, probably. Kate and I are going out to Homebush to talk to one of the other bash victims. Surry Hills has a stack of evidence on the four killings, but it still doesn’t add up to anything concrete. Maybe I’ll stumble on something you missed.’

‘Good luck, sir,’ said Beane and it sounded as if there was just a faint note of sarcasm to his voice.

He left and Malone looked at Kate Arletti. ‘I can see you think I was rough on him.’

‘You’re the boss, sir.’

‘You sound like my wife, Kate. Or my daughters when they think they know better than I do. Young Darren looks like a bright young cop, but he has a lot to learn about a cop’s conscience. We’re not supposed to have any, Kate. Not when it comes to catching murderers.’

‘He’s our best contact with the gay community—’

‘I know that. But he has to make up his mind what comes first – being gay or being a cop. Yes?’

‘Nothing, sir.’

‘Come on, Kate. I know that look – you have something you want to say.’

‘Well, let’s say the killer, or killers, let’s say they were killing thugs who were bashing up cops.

‘I’d still be after them,’ he said and hoped he sounded convincing.

Kate considered his answer; then she stood up. ‘Do you want me to keep covering the lesbian scene?’

‘Yes, for the time being.’ Eventually he would have to talk to the lesbians; he might even have to go into the gay baths. For the moment, though, he was still shedding prejudices: he was treading a different turf. Objectivity, something he needed in these cases, was never iron-clad. He looked at his notes. ‘In the meantime you can come with me out to Homebush. We’re going to talk to the second feller who was bashed, back in July, see if he remembers anything about the killing.’