The Final Cut Page 12

  ‘Nothing.’ Archie gloomily flicked at leaves. Melody watched him for a moment, then decided to accept his arm on her terms. ‘You can put your arm around my waist, but nothing else. I don’t even know if I like you.’

  Archie pushed himself beside her, lightly putting his arm around her waist. They sat like this, silently looking out at the park. ‘I like you,’ Archie said huskily. After a pause Melody took Archie’s hand and pushed it more firmly against her waist. ‘Can I kiss you?’ he asked. Melody turned her face towards him. Archie leant in and kissed her on the mouth. He politely asked her if that was okay, which Melody acknowledged with, ‘But don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell Con, promise.’ Their secret sealed their friendship.

  ***

  Melody turned her left forearm wrist up. She held it over the bathroom sink and placed the scalpel blade against her wrist, greeting the feeling of anticipation drumming in her stomach and at the back of her throat. She looked in the mirror with expressionless eyes and sighed deeply …

  Later, in the kitchen, she listened to Frankie Lymon singing ‘Why Do Fools Fall in Love?’ on the radio. Her legs and arms began to jump and sway to the music; joy engulfed her, tears flowed and a huge smile beamed. Great and beautiful things are going to happen to me, people will love me, I’ll be famous. She hugged the dreams of being with Con and becoming a movie star tightly into her body, lest it burst from her and not come true.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Wednesday, 24 November 1965

  5.15 a.m.

  The sun was up but there was still a welcome chill in the air, with no hint of the heat to come. Spencer’s smile seemed innocent as she walked from her Claremont apartment block. Cardilini wondered how she dealt with the dark images that haunted him through the night. Maybe she was so singular, so positive, they could find no purchase. After losing Betty he’d lost the will to fight them. He doubted he’d ever smile like Spencer again. She wore a blue-and-white floral scarf around her neck. Cardilini couldn’t remember her wearing anything coloured previously. Have I even really taken notice before?

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Spencer asked when she opened the door.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You look ill.’

  Cardilini dropped the smile. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Good. I was hoping you wouldn’t be in one of your grumpy moods, otherwise the drive to Kalgoorlie would be intolerable.’ She placed the slim leather satchel she used for her work by her feet and put a thermos on the bench seat between them.

  ‘I’m not grumpy.’

  ‘It’s hard to tell. I’ve brought coffee. I’ll take over driving at Merredin.’

  ‘I should be right for the trip.’

  ‘I think it best if I drive too.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because we’re partners, remember?’

  Stirling Highway was quiet. Riverside Drive was even quieter. A mist hovered above sections of the river, reminding Cardilini of the Denmark estuary. He and Paul used to row out and throw fishing lines in to catch fish for breakfast. His mind must have been clear then, like Spencer’s. They never caught anything and, on their return, they’d be grateful for the sausages and eggs that Betty always cooked. It only now struck Cardilini that neither Betty nor Paul ever complained about the futility of their early morning fishing. I must ask him about that, he thought, but then changed his mind. He hadn’t been able to look his son in the eye and talk about Betty. He imagined Paul must feel the same way.

  ‘Look, rowing eights,’ Spencer said with delight. Two long rowing sculls were sweeping in the opposite direction. ‘They must be from Wesley College, see the Wyvern on their scull. We used to always go to the Head of the River. We barracked for Hale, but Aquinas usually won.’

  Cardilini didn't answer, nor change his sombre expression. He sighed.

  ‘Sorry for showing some interest,’ Spencer said. ‘I went to St Hilda’s.’

  Cardilini nodded that he understood but couldn’t find anything pleasant to say. He was annoyed that she had gone to a private school. He was annoyed she had a university degree. He was annoyed that besides those things she was a very good, nice, likeable person.

  As they drove toward Greenmount, the rising sun sprayed the top of the trees: leaves glowed golden in the morning light. At the side of the road, trees and grass, stoic during the day, exposed their softness as gentle hues played across them.

  Cardilini wound his window down: the air was still cool, drifting through the moving shadows created by the trees whipping past. He wanted to smoke and wondered why he wasn’t. He reached for his packet and drew a cigarette out with his lips. He could feel Spencer’s disapproval.

  ‘You said I could.’

  ‘I know I did.’

  Cardilini pushed the cigarette lighter in. Spencer wound her window down. He shook his head. Why is this so complicated? She watched him as the bright spark lit his face and his cigarette.

  ‘How long do you think this will take?’ she asked.

  They stopped at Merredin and ordered from the roadhouse while the car was getting filled up. They sat on a rough wooden picnic bench beneath some trees. It was starting to warm up. The thermos of coffee was still hot and the meat pie and sauce from the roadhouse was a tasty morning tea for Cardilini. Spencer had a lamington.

  ‘My mum used to make these,’ she said and laughed. ‘I really miss them.’

  ‘So did Betty.’ Cardilini looked out to the dusty paddock past the roadhouse and squinted into the sun.

  ***

  Spencer spent most of the rest of the trip making notes and asking Cardilini what he thought of different aspects of the Coopers’ enterprise. Cardilini was convinced someone higher up the chain was running them – someone who could have the house packed up in a hurry and have the Coopers moved out. But where? Melody’s screaming meant they’d need to live somewhere she wouldn’t disturb the neighbours. Or maybe they’d be set up in another unofficial red-light district. It was only Archie Cooper being out of control, drunk, and Melody’s persistent and genuine screams, that caused the neighbour, Mrs Gould, to go against protocol and call the police. Perhaps she’d intended to call one of the two officers who usually attended the Coopers’ house. So why were Ryan and Appleby there?

  ‘I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been keeping an eye on Sally Abraham’s husband Daniel,’ Spencer said.

  ‘What? When?’

  ‘Before and after work.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To find out about his activities.’

  ‘Ryan is doing that for us.’

  ‘Has he found anything?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So what’s the harm?’

  ‘The harm is that he’s a vicious bastard, if your friend is to be believed, and if you’re caught you’ll convince him his wife has gone to the police, and who knows what he’d do then. Besides, doesn’t he know you?’

  ‘Hardly, we only met the one time – at their wedding.’

  ‘So, he’s an idiot who won’t remember his wife’s best friend, the policewoman?’ Spencer sat up straight, looking ahead. ‘Look, partners don’t go off by themselves. Chances are he only abuses his wife but you don’t take risks. And we talk about what we’re doing before we do it.’

  ‘You can’t say that. Did you tell me everything about the Coopers?’

  ‘Okay. No, I didn’t.’ Cardilini felt a stab of conscience at his lecturing and looked at the road.

  ***

  The day had heated up. After a while Spencer asked, ‘Don’t you believe Sally?’

  ‘Desperate people will do anything. Maybe she wants to lay the foundation of her own story.’

  ‘If she wasn’t my friend, would you still say that?’

  ‘I think so.’

  As the highway became the broad main street of Coolgardie, Cardilini
slowed. Several caravan parks stretched back from the road; then stone and brick buildings, built during Coolgardie’s heyday, congregated at the major intersection. An Aboriginal family sat in the shade of the broad balcony of a two-storey stone building.

  ‘A hive of activity,’ Spencer said as she looked for any other signs of life.

  Cardilini remembered a snippet of history from school. ‘The main street needed to be wide enough for bullock trains to turn around.’

  ‘Waste of space, now.’

  As they left Coolgardie behind Cardilini pushed his foot down on the accelerator. Bordering the road were the thin, tenuous branches and trunks of eucalypt trees. Cardilini always thought them too fragile to exist in this desert climate. Shallow foliage spread wide on delicate branches protected trembling shadows beneath. If I were by myself I might stop and walk among them for a spell, he mused. No, you wouldn’t, came equally quickly.

  ‘So what do we do about Abraham?’

  Cardilini knew Ryan would tell him about Abraham if there was anything to tell. ‘I’ve got Ryan checking it.’ He knew he was just putting her off. ‘Not long now. Do you want to get a cup of tea before we go to the station?’

  Spencer was not taken in by his excuse. ‘No. Let’s go straight there.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Wednesday, 24 November 1965

  12.30 p.m.

  Kalgoorlie boasted a few more people on the streets than Coolgardie but it was still quiet. Cardilini pulled up in the angle parking outside the police station.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want a cup of tea first?’ he asked Spencer. She gave a brief shake of her head, got out and headed towards the stairs.

  ‘Cardilini and Spencer from East Perth for Sergeant Idress,’ Cardilini said to the constable at reception.

  ‘Yes, sir, I’ll fetch him.’ The constable disappeared behind a partition.

  When he was out of sight Spencer asked, ‘Can they get any younger? I don’t think he even shaves yet.’

  Sergeant Idress was a thickset man in charge of the situation. A huge beer gut threatened his shirt buttons and his trouser belt with his every move. His features, no doubt once delicate, were surrounded by such an explosion of flesh they appeared pinched. His aggressive tone was no surprise. ‘We were going to send the files to you.’

  ‘I know. We wanted to speak to the officers involved.’

  ‘Why would you want to do that?’

  ‘Just to get a bit of background,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘Well, they aren’t handy, mightn’t be all day.’

  ‘So who does the deputy commissioner have to speak to, to make them handy?’ Cardilini asked bluntly.

  Idress laughed and slapped the report on the reception desk. ‘Aren’t we a tough guy? Showing off for your girlfriend.’ He stepped back from the reception desk as Cardilini glowered at him.

  ‘Detective Constable Spencer,’ Spencer said and held out her hand.

  Idress looked at it, then at the young constable, who smiled. ‘Okay, detectives,’ he said, shaking Spencer’s hand.

  Cardilini snatched the file. ‘We’ll take the report and an interview room. I reckon ten minutes should be enough to find those officers. I’d like a pot of tea, too.’

  ‘Constable,’ Idress barked at the young constable.

  ‘This way, detectives,’ the constable said and started down a corridor.

  ***

  Half an hour later, Cardilini was on his fourth cup of tea. ‘Twice in six months Archie Cooper is dragged in here and each time he’s released,’ he said, pushing the file towards Spencer.

  ‘And there are different officers each time. We have the dates and the address, something to follow up on.’

  Cardilini nodded. ‘And each time the scars from her previous self-harming episodes are mentioned, so they must have been visible. But there are no photos.’

  ‘So Kalgoorlie isn’t where it started?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘Maybe not. Apparently, when the edges of the cut still touch, the wound can heal in a day or two. The deeper the wound the more likely it is to scar and the longer for the scar to fade.’

  ‘Sergeant Idress was unnecessarily aggressive,’ Spencer said.

  ‘It’s not unusual for aggressive little mongrels to get the front desk. A good bark will discourage any number of complaints.’

  There was a knock at the door and a tall, angular man entered. ‘Senior Constable Shub,’ he announced.

  ‘Take a seat, Shub. Cardilini and Spencer.’

  Shub sat with a nod and Spencer pushed the file over to him. ‘Yep. I remember the little weasel,’ he said, without looking down.

  ‘Take us through the whole event, if you don’t mind,’ Cardilini said. ‘From where you were when the call came in.’

  ‘It wasn’t a call; some kid comes running up to me when I was in Hay Street. On police business, mind.’

  ‘Hay Street is where the brothels are located,’ Cardilini told Spencer.

  ‘I’m aware, sir,’ Spencer said.

  Shub gave Cardilini a nod and a smile. ‘The kid reckoned someone was being throttled,’ he went on. ‘It happens. So I high-tail it down to one of the rooms, only to be met by the madam, who told me to shove off. I was about to tell the kid off when I heard a scream. It wasn’t your usual working girl making noise for her client; it had the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. So I start yelling and thumping on the door and when it opened I nearly got flattened in the rush of blokes leaving. Anyway, I find the girl. She was quickly bundled up by Cooper and a couple of the other girls and off to hospital.’

  ‘Did you phone in the incident?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘No. We’re expected to handle that sort of thing by ourselves.’

  ‘Why?’ Spencer asked.

  Shub looked to Cardilini, who looked away. ‘That’s the way it’s been since Hay Street was Brookman Street. Since it was a one-copper town.’

  ‘So,’ Cardilini said, picking up the slack, ‘you’re at the hospital. Did you see her cuts?’

  ‘Not really, they were on her legs.’

  ‘Upper thighs?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘So I heard.’

  ‘Was her clothing torn?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘I didn’t see her clothing; she was in a hospital gown when I spoke to her.’

  ‘How did she seem?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘Annoyed. Which I wasn’t expecting.’

  ‘Did she say she was cutting herself?’

  ‘Yeah, she did. She didn’t want to scar, which is a funny thing to say when you done it to yourself.’

  ‘Was she cutting herself for paying clients?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘That’s what she said,’ Shub replied.

  ‘What was Archie Cooper doing?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘Collecting the money.’

  ‘But you doubt that?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Shub answered slowly.

  ‘And that’s not in your report?’ Spencer said.

  ‘We don’t go in for speculation in reports. It’s too easy for someone to come from the big smoke and say we’re fabricating evidence.’

  ‘Did you see any sign that she might have been restrained – any marks on her wrists, ankles or knees?’ Cardilini asked.

  Shub sighed. ‘That’s not the worst I’ve seen by a long shot. When a sick bastard turns up, we protect the girls. Maybe you need to work here for a spell before you come in all high and mighty.’

  Cardilini pushed his chair back in a relaxed manner. ‘That’s not our intention. Cooper is going to be charged with cutting his wife, with or without Melody Cooper supporting the charge. We’re gathering evidence for the chief prosecutor.’

  Shub looked from Cardilini to Spencer in disbelief. ‘How the hell are you going to do that?’

/>   ‘We’ll tell you when it happens,’ Cardilini said and smiled.

  ‘Cooper’s a rat, sure, but he was in tears when I left them at the hospital.’

  Spencer nodded. ‘Oh. That makes it all better, I’m sure.’

  ‘Rather him doing it to her than some other bastard, I can tell you that,’ Shub said. ‘Anyway, Cooper ended up in hospital a few days later; he got a real whipping, wouldn’t say who did it to him, though.’

  ‘Did he upset someone who didn’t like the idea of Melody going to hospital?’ Spencer asked.

  ‘Yeah, could be, but Cooper wouldn’t say anything, afraid of another beating, probably.’

  ‘Melody still shouldn’t have been treated like that,’ Spencer persisted.

  ‘She didn’t prostitute herself, and they made good money. They lived high on the hog. Pub all day, big spenders at the races, and she was a generous woman. There are a number of hard luck stories in town who could vouch for that. It really didn’t seem such a big deal. But no doubt city detectives know best.’

  ‘Were the clients all locals?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘We don’t stick our noses in too far when it comes to clients. Bit of a golden rule.’

  ‘With something so unusual, and with big payers, you must have been curious, though.’

  ‘Girls get tied up, a bit of push and shove – it happens all the time, no one’s pressing charges,’ Shub answered.

  ‘To such a pretty girl?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘Yeah, she was pretty, but what can you do?’ Shub shook his head sadly.

  Cardilini and Shub chatted and laughed about a few officers they knew who had once worked at Kalgoorlie, and then ended with a handshake. Shub left with a nod to Spencer, who had stayed quiet for some time. The next officer tapped on the door minutes after Shub’s departure.

  Constable Clark, a city boy, had been at the hospital when Melody was brought in the second time. He didn’t make a connection to the Hay Street brothels, as the Coopers lived in a more upmarket part of Kalgoorlie. However, he got to know who they were soon enough.