Cyanide Games: A Peter Tanner Thriller

by Richard Beasley

  She nodded lightly.

  ‘He’s a friend too. Gaby knows who he is.’

  ‘I read he sought a bribe,’ she said. ‘Did he do it?’

  Tanner shrugged. ‘Joe’s too polite to tell the Chinese outright they’ve made a mistake. I’m trying to see if I can assist with that.’

  She looked at him blankly. ‘How can Gaby help you?’

  ‘Joe read her report. He talked to her about it. I don’t know how or why, but I think it has something to do with him being in prison.’

  ‘There’s nothing she can do about that.’

  ‘He’s got a young family. He could be stuck there for ten years.’

  She shook her head and looked at the table. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because I want you to tell Gabriella,’ he said sharply.

  ‘She can’t help him.’

  ‘She can tell me the truth.’

  ‘Can’t he?’

  ‘It might be more important to hear it from her.’

  ‘And how will that help?’

  ‘I don’t know, Kate.’

  ‘So what’s the point?’

  ‘I don’t know what I can do until I know the truth. I’ll work it out from there.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like much of a plan, Mr Tanner.’

  ‘Did you know Anne Warren?’ he said.

  She glared at him. ‘Gaby knew her better,’ she said softly.

  ‘Did Gaby tell you why Anne went to Tovosevu Island? Because I think Gaby knows. And I think that has something to do with Joe.’

  She started to say something, then stopped herself, biting at the inside of her cheek. ‘She can’t,’ she finally said.

  ‘Then ask her again,’ he said. ‘Please? Ask her to contact us. She can call me; she can call Lisa. She can trust us. Just ask her to tell us what happened.’

  She walked with him to the door.

  ‘You know how to get a message to me,’ he said.

  She nodded, and said goodbye.

  Two nights later, after dinner on Sunday evening, his phone buzzed with a text. She’s sorry, the message said. She can’t help.

  27

  The non-availability of Klaudia Dabrowka for Justin Matheson’s committal was listed for argument on a Friday afternoon, just over two weeks before the hearing itself.

  Because of the late afternoon start, there were no other lawyers in the courtroom when Tanner and Jane Ross walked in. Porter arrived a few minutes later with Matheson’s parents. A video link to Silverwater Remand Centre had been set up so Matheson could follow the proceedings.

  Richard Aitken entered the courtroom with only a young solicitor from the prosecutor’s office. He had an annoyed look on his face that was familiar to Tanner. Aitken was so uptight, Tanner was sure one day he was going to burst. Hopefully mid-trial in front of a jury. ‘This is going to be a spectacular waste of your client’s money, Peter,’ Aitken said as he took his seat.

  ‘When’s that ever stopped a lawyer?’ Tanner knew he was unlikely to succeed with any legal argument he was about to raise. That wasn’t the point; he’d learnt a long time ago to be thorough any time a witness was said to be too ill for court.

  ‘There’s a witness you want to cross-examine who’s not available, Mr Tanner?’ Magistrate Harry Stanley said as soon as he sat at the bench. Although the trial would be heard in front of a jury in the Supreme Court, until Matheson was actually committed to stand trial, the case remained in the Local Court criminal list, where the committal would take place. Stanley had been a magistrate for over twenty years, and it had taken its toll. He was corpulent and easily antagonised. Even in his most tranquil moods, his face retained a permanent cerise glow.

  ‘Not any witness, your Honour. One of only two crucial witnesses.’

  ‘I’m sure our DNA expert qualifies as crucial,’ Aitken said.

  ‘Would you like me to remind Mr Aitken to stand before he addresses you, your Honour?’

  ‘I think he knows,’ Stanley said. ‘You say Ms – it’s Miss Dabrowska, is that how I say it?’

  ‘Klaudia Dabrowska.’

  ‘She’s an eye witness, more or less?’

  ‘An alibi witness, your Honour, just not for the accused.’

  ‘I object to that characterisation, your Honour,’ Aitken said, standing this time, his hands gripping the sides of the lectern. It looked too big for him. He was a short man, five seven if he stood on his toes.

  Stanley nodded, but otherwise ignored him. ‘And she’s unable to fly. I’ve been emailed a medical report with the papers.’

  ‘We object to that report being admitted into evidence, your Honour.’

  The magistrate raised his white eyebrows. ‘On what grounds?’

  ‘Lack of expertise.’

  Stanley examined the report of Dr Simon Anthony. He looked at Tanner. ‘Perhaps I’ll deal with that argument when Mr Aitken tries to tender it. In the meantime, though, what is it you’re asking me to do today? I can’t order a witness in a foreign jurisdiction to attend court here.’

  Tanner nodded. ‘We want an order that if Miss Dabrowska isn’t made available for cross-examination at the committal, her statement shouldn’t be received into evidence. Secondly, if Mr Matheson is committed, we seek an order that the Crown not be entitled to call her. We won’t be able to get a fair trial if we can’t test her evidence at committal.’

  Stanley glared at Tanner, then gave a faint smile. ‘Is that all you want, Mr Tanner?’ he said, sarcasm clear in his voice. ‘You don’t want to me to just dismiss the charges now?’

  Tanner paused, and pretended to look at his notes. ‘Are you considering that, your Honour?’

  ‘I’m not,’ Stanley said. ‘Let’s start with the second order you propose. Whether or not you can get a fair hearing without cross-examining her at committal is a question for the trial judge, isn’t it?’

  ‘We can ask you to make that order, your Honour. The Crown could seek to get it revoked if it wanted, but –’

  ‘That’s nonsense,’ Stanley said, interrupting. ‘Let me hear from Mr Crown about why Miss Dabrowska can’t make it.’

  Tanner sat down, and Aitken walked the magistrate through the pathology of mastoiditis, and how acutely Klaudia Dabrowska was suffering from it. When he’d outlined the facts about diagnosis, treatment and prognosis, he came to the report of Dr Simon Anthony.

  ‘Mr Tanner,’ Stanley said, when Aitken handed the original of the report to the court officer, ‘I’ve read an emailed copy of this. I take it you have no objection to that. I didn’t know there was going to be any issue with its admissibility.’

  ‘I don’t have any objection if your Honour doesn’t rely on it.’

  ‘What’s the objection again?’

  ‘Dr Anthony isn’t qualified to give the opinions he purports to, your Honour.’

  ‘Because he’s a general practitioner?’

  ‘Because he’s not qualified to prescribe a course of treatment for a severe case of this disease, nor opine on a prognosis. Only an ENT specialist can do that.’

  ‘Do we have his CV?’

  ‘I’ll hand that up now, your Honour,’ Aitken said. ‘Mr Tanner only notified us of his objection yesterday. Dr Anthony had to do this for us last night, our time. He’s not used to having his qualifications challenged.’

  ‘I’m not challenging his qualifications,’ Tanner said. ‘I’m highlighting them. MBBS – he’s not an ear specialist.’

  Stanley took off his glasses and started to chew on one end. He looked up at Tanner from the papers he was reading. ‘He’s been a GP in London for thirty years, Mr Tanner. Presumably he’s seen a few cases of ear infection.’

  Tanner shrugged. ‘Presumably he has, your Honour. And when he comes across a serious case, presumably, if he values his insurance policy, he refers that patient to an ENT specialist, who’s qualified to treat them.’

  ‘Your Honour, may I assist?’ Aitken said.

  ‘I assume my friend do
esn’t have a degree from the Royal College of Otolaryngology,’ Tanner said.

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Aitken snapped.

  ‘Maybe he wants to hand up a report from Miss Dabrowska’s acupuncturist. That’d be about as much use as Dr Anthony on mastoiditis.’

  ‘Mr Tanner,’ Stanley said, ‘that’s disrespectful to a very experienced doctor.’

  ‘I apologise, your Honour,’ Tanner said. ‘I meant my comment only to be disrespectful to the prosecutor.’

  ‘Really, Mr Tanner?’

  ‘This is a murder charge, your Honour. We’re entitled to have this important witness here to test her, and if she can’t travel to Australia, we’re entitled to a proper explanation.’

  ‘May I assist now, your Honour?’ Aitken said.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Dr Anthony is a very experienced GP. Based on his own qualifications, training and experience, he can perfectly admissibly express the opinions he has. That’s our primary position. However, another way of considering Dr Anthony’s report is to read it as though he’s also passing on the views of Miss Dabrowska’s specialist. It mightn’t be expressly stated in the report, but clearly that’s what’s happening.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I read it that way, Mr Tanner?’

  ‘Because it’s not what the report says. Dr Anthony doesn’t say he’s spoken to someone more qualified regarding this condition.’

  ‘The next matter I want to raise, your Honour,’ Aitken continued, ‘is the issue of what happens if Miss Dabrowska is at least well enough to be able to give evidence. We’ll organise for that to happen via video link from the UK.’

  ‘That’s a different issue, your Honour,’ Tanner said. ‘It has its own problems.’

  ‘Mr Tanner,’ Stanley said, ‘I’m going to admit the report into evidence. It’s admissible as expert evidence. It’s more a question of what weight I give it. I don’t see why I shouldn’t take it at face value as the opinion of a very experienced doctor. I’ll admit the report, and mark it as exhibit “P1”.’

  ‘If the court pleases.’

  ‘So, if the report’s in, that makes it hard for you to argue about Miss Dabrowska being well enough to fly. So that leaves us with the video link issue.’

  ‘Your Honour, video link would be really unsatisfactory,’ Tanner said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘On my instructions, Miss Dabrowska was with – if I can use that term euphemistically – my client in a room in the Richter estate when Elena Mancini suffered the injury that killed her. She told the police she was with Mr Richter. I want to test her on that.’

  ‘You’ll be able to. Just via video link.’

  ‘The difficulties presented to a court in assessing credit when a witness is giving evidence by video link are well documented, and –’

  ‘Mr Tanner,’ Stanley interrupted, ‘if this was about a jury trial, I’d be with you. It’s not. It’s a committal, and there’ll be limits on cross-examination anyway. I can’t order this witness to attend, and she’s not able to fly at the moment, so video link will have to suffice. I’m with you that it’d be better if she was in a courtroom here rather than in a room in London, but that’s what it’s going to have to be.’

  ‘And what if she’s not well enough even for video link, your Honour?’

  ‘I’m not ruling on a hypothetical. Let’s see what happens.’

  ‘We’ll be seeking to have her statement admitted even if she’s not able to give evidence, your Honour,’ Aitken said. ‘Any issue about that is for the presiding magistrate at the committal.’

  ‘I agree,’ Stanley said. ‘The defence has other options in any event, which I’m certain a counsel of Mr Tanner’s experience is well aware of. If Miss Dabrowska can’t give evidence at committal and the defendant is ordered to stand trial, Mr Tanner can seek to have a voir dire hearing with her at a later date, or even during the trial if he thinks that’s the best course. All of that is for the trial judge to decide, not me today.’ Stanley picked up his pen and started making notes in his court book. ‘Here’s what I propose to do,’ he said after a few moments. ‘I’ve admitted into evidence a report of Dr Simon Anthony dated 20 February. I’ve considered its contents, and it’s clear that the witness Klaudia Dabrowska is currently unable to fly from London to give evidence at the committal listed to commence in just over two weeks’ time. What I’d ask the prosecution to do, though, is provide an updated report from Dr Anthony, say, a week out from the committal, letting the defence know if she can at least give video-link evidence. Is there any difficulty with that, Mr Crown?’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect so, your Honour.’

  ‘Can the report be from Miss Dabrowska’s ENT specialist, your Honour?’

  ‘No, Mr Tanner,’ Stanley snapped. ‘I’m not even ordering a report from Dr Anthony. I can’t. He’s outside our jurisdiction, and you know it. I’m making a request to help you.’

  ‘If the court pleases.’

  ‘There’s one other option, Mr Tanner,’ Stanley said.

  Tanner rose and nodded.

  ‘It might be that Miss Dabrowska can’t give evidence by video link when the committal is listed for hearing, but what if the medical advice is that she’s likely to have recovered a short time after? I’d be sympathetic to pushing the committal back a month or so, if you were to make that application.’

  Tanner shook his head. ‘My client’s in custody, your Honour. If he’s committed for trial, he’ll be lucky to get a date before the end of the year. I’m sure he doesn’t want to stay in remand any longer.’

  Stanley shrugged. ‘I’m trying to do you a favour, Mr Tanner. You don’t have to take it up.’

  ‘I appreciate that, your Honour. I’ll discuss it with my client.’

  Magistrate Stanley nodded, and stood to leave the court. The barristers bowed their heads, and the court officer adjourned the hearing.

  ‘Justin won’t want it adjourned,’ Bill Matheson said as soon as Aitken left the courtroom. ‘We need this to be over.’

  Tanner put up his hand. ‘We don’t have to decide that today, Bill.’

  ‘We don’t want it delayed to next year. Justin’s life is on hold.’

  ‘I know you all want this over,’ Tanner said, ‘but the wheels of justice turn more slowly than we’d like sometimes. If I think it’s crucial to cross-examine Klaudia at committal, and we need to take up the judge’s offer of a delay, then that’s what we’re going to do.’

  William Matheson looked at Tanner for a moment, then shook his head, but said nothing more.

  ‘Why is this girl lying, Peter?’ Judith Matheson said. She looked worn down. Her son’s trial was going to age her ten years.

  ‘That’s one of the things I want to ask her, Judith.’

  28

  Tom Cable was already in the café opposite the court complex when Tanner walked in. He was seated at a table for two and sipping on a small bottle of Coke, which he held up as a greeting. Tanner ordered a long black, then sat down opposite Cable.

  ‘You’re looking fit as usual,’ Tanner said.

  Cable nodded. He was mid-fifties, but had the lean physique of a professional athlete. ‘I’m doing three months with no alcohol, no coffee and no red meat.’

  ‘That’s my entire diet.’

  ‘Been in court? Anything interesting?’

  ‘My client’s charged with killing an Italian tourist. A young woman.’

  Cable pursed his lips and whistled softly. ‘Did he do it?’

  ‘He says he didn’t.’

  ‘Sure. But did he?’

  Tanner shrugged, and Cable shook his head.

  ‘How’s Dan?’

  ‘Just started high school.’

  Cable nodded. ‘They go from twelve to grown-ups in a flash. I went in when Rob was twelve. Three years later, I come out and he’s a man.’

  Cable had been a thief. In the early days he’d used his agility. He scaled walls and balconies and climbed roofs the average cat burglar d
idn’t dare too. As he matured, he developed skills in disarming security systems. As the age of security cameras expanded, he scaled back his B&E practice, and started to plan for the future – which was when he got caught.

  He was arrested in a police sting, offloading goods he’d stolen from a job on the Lower North Shore. A ‘fence’ he worked with fingered him for a string of other robberies for a lower sentence. Cable got five at the top and three and a half at the bottom.

  ‘How’s Rob?’

  Not long after getting out of prison, Cable set up a business. Given his expertise, he chose home security installation. He didn’t advertise his record, his brother held the licence, and he and Cable’s wife were the directors of the company. They branched into investigation work, and process serving. Rob was Tom’s son, now mid-twenties, and the reason the two men knew each other.

  Six years before Rob Cable had gone out drinking with his team-mates from his rugby club. Just before three am, he got into an argument with one. A punch was thrown; a jaw cracked in half. Cable pleaded self-defence, claiming his team-mate was the aggressor. Most of his team-mates sided with him, but two said Rob had thrown the first punch. The trial was before a judge without a jury. Rob was convicted, and got fifteen months non-parole. It hadn’t helped him that the boy he’d fought was the son of the local mayor.

  An appeal was lodged and Tanner ended up with the brief. The appellate court agreed that the preponderance of evidence was that Rob had thrown not the first, but the third punch. The trial judge had paid scant regard to this, and to Cable’s evidence that he feared for his safety. The conviction was quashed. Tom Cable told Tanner he owed him a massive debt. From time to time since then, Tanner had used Cable for some investigation jobs in his cases.

  ‘Another baby on the way,’ Cable said.

  ‘That’s great.’

  Cable nodded and took another sip on his Coke. ‘There’s something I can do for you?’

  ‘There is.’

  ‘Related to this trial?’

  A waitress put Tanner’s long black in front of him, and he waited until she left. ‘I need you to break into a house.’