The Final Cut

by Robert Jeffreys

  Cardilini came inside and picked up the receiver. A voice started speaking immediately. It was his contact in Europe.

  ‘I was asked to pass on a warning,’ he said. ‘The powers behind Ricker are substantial and they won’t want to lose someone like Abraham.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘I can’t help you. But why don’t you come back to Europe?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We need people who can cut through the crap; we’re drowning in it over here. You’ll know what I mean when it hits Australia.’

  ‘Paul’s going to the academy,’ Cardilini replied, confused.

  ‘Ring before you come.’ The line went dead.

  Cardilini looked down at the receiver and, shaking his head, started down the corridor. Paul’s door was ajar. Cardilini stood for a moment, listening, then ran the back of his hand across his mouth several times. He walked quietly to the back door. Luminous stars filled the sky, sending dappled light onto the lawn. Cool air brushed his face and arms. Cardilini moved through the yard to the garden shed like a monolith. He found the torch, flicked the beam on and turned it to the top shelf. The light settled on a wooden box. He reached into the box, fumbling as he dropped the torch, bouncing the light around the interior of the shed. The click of a screw cap rent the air and then he was on his knees, swallowing great draughts of biting liquor.

  Melody’s face swam before him; her imploring eyes, her dark hair fanned out about her on the hospital pillow: the innocent girl in the woman’s body. He was communicating with her, not in words – the bottle had ensured no words were possible – but, like every night, it wasn’t until this new Melody smiled on him that he felt he could hide the bottle and stumble back to bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

  Monday, 20 December 1965

  10 a.m.

  It had only been days, but it felt like it had been years since he was in hospital. Though he wasn’t officially back at work, Cardilini found himself sitting in Robinson’s office, staring out the window at the clear blue sky, only half-listening.

  ‘The official story is that the federal boys sent Hatcher and May to keep their eyes on Abraham. In reality, the night you stumbled across the property and went busting in, they received an anonymous tip-off and got out there. Either way it doesn’t matter. The commissioner wants our records to show you were put in charge of the case as a detective inspector from the very start.’ Robinson looked up at Cardilini’s vacant eyes. ‘Cardilini?’

  Cardilini shifted his focus from the sky and down to Robinson.

  ‘You with me?’ Cardilini nodded but Robinson eyed him suspiciously. ‘You’re not going to complain, are you?’ Cardilini shook his head. ‘So, you brought Spencer on board the case as instructed,’ Robinson said quietly, ‘and she was abducted, then you saw Rosie’s file …’

  ‘That’s not when I had the address.’ Cardilini spoke like a man condemned.

  ‘Yes, but you weren’t to know. It’s a bloody nightmare. However, we’re here now and have to make official sense of it all. If it helps, Melody hadn’t committed a crime, so we couldn’t have held her, and we couldn’t have gone near Abraham. It’s just a bloody tragedy, but that was out of our hands. Out of your bloody hands. Christ, how many people are wandering the streets that we know should be locked up but we can’t touch them? We’ve got Abraham, a bloody serial killer … at a terrible cost, I know, but we got him.’

  Cardilini looked up. ‘Can I go now?’

  ‘Not yet. Abraham’s two mates swore they weren’t there on the night, swore they had nothing to do with it, but we’ve got them on abduction charges. Just think, did you see them there?’

  Cardilini shook his head.

  ‘Just you and Abraham?’

  ‘What’s Abraham saying?’

  ‘He’s saying he was on his own. But I think he’s lying.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t see the other two.’ Cardilini stood.

  ‘Also, those two identified a fellow, Kopecki, from Geraldton. It appears two of the young women came from Geraldton also. Have you heard of this Kopecki?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, he’s been nabbed, shame we can’t get a bit more credit for it,’ Robinson said.

  Cardilini started for the door.

  ‘Okay. You going to the hospital?’ Robinson called. Cardilini turned, staring blankly. ‘You look awful. Have a shave and change that bloody shirt. How can she get better if you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards? And tell her we want her back. Tell her not to give up on us. Oh yeah, Merry Christmas. Pass it on to Spencer, too. Take a long break; don’t came back ’til New Year. That’s an order.’

  Cardilini left the office in a daze.

  ***

  ‘Cardilini.’ Archer caught up with him before he descended the stairs to the foyer.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Merry Christmas.’ He stuck his hand out and Cardilini shook it perfunctorily. Archer pulled Cardilini close. ‘We’ve got a problem,’ he whispered.

  Cardilini really couldn’t have cared less. ‘Yes?’

  ‘The prosecutor’s become aware of a few details about Clancy’s treatment. And about the necklace.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So? He’s dropping any prosecution against her.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘We’ll have to let her go.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘You knew?’

  Cardilini shrugged.

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘Do you really think she did it?’ Cardilini asked.

  It was Archer’s turn to shrug.

  Cardilini was tired of it all. ‘Did we ever have any real evidence?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Could we come up with evidence she didn’t do it?’ Cardilini asked, distracted.

  ‘Her alibi?’

  ‘Look, we could have pulled a dozen girls in and none of the alibis would have been any stronger,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘What’re you saying?’

  ‘Just let her go.’

  Archer spoke quietly and threateningly, ‘If you want someone to build a case against Louise Hardy, I’m not your man. And neither is Spry. Just so you know.’

  Cardilini nodded and started down the stairs. Archer grabbed his arm and lowered his voice. ‘You know you asked me to think about Hardy’s involvement?’

  Cardilini stood staring at the stairs he longed to be walking down. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’d say he went out of his way to conceal the facts of those cases.’ Cardilini turned, his brow furrowed, before he again looked to the stairs. ‘Robinson will go apeshit if we don’t have a suspect for Hardy’s murder.’

  ‘Robinson will soon figure out Hardy’s connection to the young women’s deaths; he’s already asked me who the responsible officer was. You know who it was? It opens up a whole range of possible suspects for Hardy’s murderer.’

  ‘What about Louise?’

  ‘Hasn’t she suffered enough?’

  Archer took some time before he slowly started to smile. He clapped Cardilini on the back. ‘Wish Spencer a Merry Christmas. And tell her if she doesn’t get her backside back here real quick, we’re coming down to bust her out.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

  Monday, 20 December 1965

  11 a.m.

  ‘You took your time,’ Paul said from the driver’s seat.

  ‘Sorry. I should go home first and tidy up.’

  ‘That’s what I said. I told you to shave.’

  Cardilini turned to him, puzzled. ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes. Are you drinking again, Dad?’

  Cardilini shook his head distractedly. ‘You’d better bloody well not be.’

  Cardilini nodded and Paul started the car. ‘Did you want to pick something up?
’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Flowers, chocolate, a get-well card; a Christmas present, even. It is Christmas in five days. What do you think?’

  ‘Hang on a bit, mate.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad, but you’re getting a bit slow.’

  Cardilini looked questioningly at Paul. Paul looked away and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

  ‘Whatever you think, son.’

  ‘I think you should tell Spencer about Mum’s room, and that we’ve set it up for her.’

  ‘That’s not a good idea,’ Cardilini replied.

  ‘Okay. Tell me where she’s going to go?’

  Cardilini sighed heavily and looked out the window.

  ‘Last chance or I’m going to tell her,’ Paul warned.

  ‘Whatever you think’s best.’

  ‘About bloody time. She will have been panicking about where to go. I wouldn’t want to be going back to that flat if I was her.’ He started the engine. ‘And I’ll offer to pack up her gear.’

  ‘She mightn’t like that.’

  Paul shook his head, smiling. ‘Get yourself stabbed near to death for her, but can’t offer to pack up her flat? That makes a lot of sense.’

  ***

  Dr Bligh stood beside Cardilini, who was absently holding a box of chocolates. Paul had a bunch of flowers and looked embarrassed. The shadows were long where they stood but the light was warm where Spencer sat on a garden bench talking to Sally Abraham.

  ‘No one from her family has come. Not that she told me she had family,’ Dr Bligh said.

  Cardilini nodded. Spencer had never spoken of her family to him either.

  ‘She has to get out of here; a few more days should do it. She’ll need a bit of follow-up support, though.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve been telling Dad, so we’ve set up a room for her,’ Paul said.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘At our place.’

  Dr Bligh looked to Cardilini.

  Cardilini said, ‘Paul’s idea.’

  ‘It could be really good,’ Dr Bligh said, ‘or really bad.’

  ‘That’s not very helpful, Doc,’ Paul said. Cardilini smiled.

  ‘You can only tell her, see what she says,’ Bligh added.

  ‘Paul will tell her,’ Cardilini quickly inserted.

  Bligh looked to Cardilini, ‘She’d need to hear it from you.’

  Paul looked to his father, then turned to Bligh, ‘Thanks, Doc.’

  Sally and Spencer stood, embraced and said their goodbyes. Sally Abraham held Cardilini’s gaze as she walked towards them. When she reached them, she took Cardilini’s free hand in both her own. ‘Thank you.’

  Cardilini nodded grimly.

  ‘Lorraine, would you like to hear what Cardilini has planned for you?’ Dr Bligh asked.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Spencer replied.

  ‘Spencer,’ Cardilini said.

  Their eyes connected momentarily as she accepted the un­wrapped box. ‘Cardilini.’

  ‘Paul came up with the idea of you coming and staying with us until you’re back on your feet,’ Cardilini said in a burst. Spencer looked at Paul, who smiled encouragingly as he thrust the flowers at her, leaving her little choice but to grasp them with her other hand. Cardilini continued, ‘And I think it’s a great idea. He even wants to shift all your stuff from your flat.’

  ‘He’s too silly to come up with it by himself but we’re fair dinkum,’ Paul said. ‘It would be great if you’d come. Dad and I will do all the cooking and cleaning. It’ll be like a hotel for you.’

  ‘That’s really nice. Thank you, Paul. Thank you … Cardilini. But I need to go back to my flat.’

  ‘It’s not a problem, we’ve set the room up and all,’ Paul said.

  ‘Thanks, but if I’m going to get back, I’ve got to start there.’

  ‘Robinson said not to give up on us, and Merry Christmas,’ Cardilini said. ‘And Archer said Merry Christmas too and everyone said they’re going to come down and bust you out if you’re not back soon.’

  Spencer accepted that with a nod. ‘Tell them to stay put for now.’

  Cardilini turned to Dr Bligh and Paul. ‘Can I have a chat to Spencer?’

  They sat on the bench a little apart, the flowers and chocolates between them. ‘Will you come back to East Perth?’

  ‘And get sent to Midland?’

  Cardilini shook his head. ‘No one’s going to send you to Midland; there’d be a bloody riot. And the offer of the room is genuine. Awkward, but genuine.’

  ‘Awkward, I agree,’ Spencer said.

  The first time Cardilini had seen her awake at Graylands, her eyes were darting and frightened. He was only allowed to stay for a minute. Gradually, the visits became longer. They’d shared a horror that wiped all pretence and personality aside. When he told her he’d known Melody was at the property the night she died, Spencer asked him to leave, later refusing to see him. It was Paul, innocent of the information and unknown to his father, who kept visiting.

  ‘The federal police keep calling,’ Spencer said now.

  ‘What do they want?’

  ‘They’re sure other people were involved.’

  ‘What did you tell them?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘I told them Abraham’s men took me from my unit. They followed me from work.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Cardilini said. He looked towards the garden and the sixteen-foot-high cyclone fence surrounding the hospital. He knew she’d been following Abraham. His fault again for not letting her in on the investigation.

  ‘I told them about Abraham at the barn,’ Spencer said. ‘But I didn’t say anything about the ones who took Ricker and his bodyguards.’

  Cardilini turned his eyes back to her and sighed.

  ‘You didn’t trust me,’ Spencer stated flatly, shaking her head.

  Cardilini pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and shifted it from hand to hand. ‘I didn’t want you involved if it went wrong. You said you didn’t want to be going against Robinson’s orders. And Robinson had told me to stay away from Abraham.’

  Spencer looked suspiciously at Cardilini.

  ‘The federal police instructed him and he instructed me. Ask him if you don’t believe me.’

  ‘When are you going to tell me who Marian and the others were?’

  ‘Who do you think they were?’

  ‘Marian told me exactly who they were and what they were doing.’

  ‘Okay, so you know.’

  ‘She didn’t seem to have any trouble trusting me,’ Spencer said, staring accusingly at Cardilini.

  Cardilini shook his head and slipped a cigarette from the packet and put it in his mouth. He fiddled with his matches without striking one. ‘Would you have gone along with the plan to see Ricker and his thugs taken offshore if you’d known about it from the beginning?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know, I wasn’t given a chance.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t take the risk,’ Cardilini said and lit his cigarette.

  Spencer moved along the bench so the smoke didn’t blow in her direction. They sat in silence.

  ‘Abraham was charged,’ Spencer said.

  ‘I heard. Funny, he didn’t mention Ricker.’

  ‘Do you know that for sure?’

  Cardilini turned to her. ‘No.’

  ‘I think you’re wrong. I think the federal police know about Ricker, Michael, Marian and the others, but they just wanted to make sure I don’t know about them.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Seems they don’t trust me, either.’

  ‘Maybe they’re trying to look at the bigger picture.’

  Spencer’s eyes flared, her voice became harsh and rasping, ‘Oh, the bigger picture? The one where Melody is … butchered?’

&nb
sp; ‘Yeah, the one where I could have saved her and didn’t,’ Cardilini barked back.

  They glared at each other.

  Spencer turned her head away. ‘Yeah, it would be fun staying with you.’

  ‘No one said it would be fun but the offer is there regardless.’

  They sat in silence for some time before Cardilini asked, ‘When do you leave here?’

  ‘Thursday.’

  ‘Christmas eve. Do you want a lift?’

  ‘That’d be nice.’

  Cardilini gazed at the cyclone fence. ‘Maybe come to dinner, I’ll do a roast.’

  A swirling breeze blew the smoke from Cardilini’s cigarette towards Spencer; she fanned the air and moved further along the bench.

  ‘Jennifer Clancy was released,’ Cardilini said.

  ‘I know. What about Louise Hardy?’

  Cardilini drew deeply on his cigarette. ‘What would you like to see happen? The rest of us have already made up our minds.’

  Spencer’s eyes turned hostile. She wanted to hate Cardilini, wanted to blame him; wanted to blame every copper she knew, blame them for the wall they put around her, blame them for her being tied up, helpless … But the blame had been overwhelming her, defeating her every moment. She closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I don’t know anymore.’

  Cardilini felt the tears start. ‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘You don’t know how sorry I am.’

  Spencer looked up at him. ‘Yes, I do.’

  Robert Jeffreys worked as an actor, teacher, builder, real estate agent, personal security agent and playwright of the professionally produced stage plays Cox Four, Covert, The Simple Truth and The Messenger. ABC Radio National featured his radio plays Covert (which received an AWGIE award) and Bodily Harm. He also published a poetry collection, Frame of Mind. Robert’s first novel, Man at the Window (Book 1 in the Detective Cardilini series), was published in 2018. Robert sadly passed away in 2019, while working on the final draft of Book 2 in the series, The Final Cut. The manuscript was completed by his wife, Rosalba Jeffreys.

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