I sat slumped in a seat and watched Paula Carson’s life seeping under the toilet door.
As the plane was landing in Brisbane, the door finally gave way and Paula’s body slumped out of the toilet. She’d slit her throat with a razor blade that was now floating in the blood on the floor.
When the plane stopped, in a hangar far away from any other aircraft or people, we were met by an ambulance and Assistant Commissioner Don Simmons and Internal Affairs detectives. The ambulance was superfluous, I thought. A morgue van was needed.
But before the plane doors were opened, the Commissioner did an amazing thing. He summoned all on board and said, ‘You all saw what happened. Corrigan was in charge of the prisoner. He took her over from me against my specific order. And he conducted an inefficient search and might even have abetted her suicide. You are suspended forthwith, Senior Sergeant Corrigan. Hand your gun and warrant card to my detective.’
I suppose I was a bit pale. I know the others were, as they stared at Commissioner Bertram in surprise.
But I had other things on my mind as Paula’s body was placed in a body bag. A Coroner’s van had arrived and slowly moved her out of the airfield.
I went to Don.
‘Get statements from everyone, straight away Don, please? Don’t let them leave. He’s blaming me.’
And then I was put in handcuffs and driven off by a couple of Uniforms. I was taking Paula’s place.
****
What followed was a long nightmare. There was an Internal Affairs inquiry into the loss of a prisoner while in custody. Then there was an inquest into Paula’s death. Then there was an inquiry into Lily’s death, involving Paula’s confession, and there was the Commissioner’s allegation that I’d taken over custody of Paula in contravention of his specific instructions. How he’d conjured up that one, I don’t know.
I think he had a breakdown when he saw Paula’s blood leaking from under the door and now, his brain was out of control.
The Police Union obtained for me the services of a leading lawyer in Brisbane—a barrister but not too proud to participate in all the inquiries. My story was the same for all of them. The worst part was the grilling, or grillings, and the fact that I had to relive that bad time again and again. I used the booze a bit to get to sleep each night.
Mr. Peter Driscoll QC was a dapper little man, smartly tailored and barbered who always wore a red carnation in his button-hole. Being a copper I had no love for lawyers but I excluded him from that. He was a joy to watch as he worked in each court-room. Smoothly and quietly, he destroyed Bertram’s stories by producing every witness to every event. None of them tried to avoid the truth. It was interesting watching him lead Bertram into verbal alleyways from which there was no escape and the Commissioner virtually convicted himself.
Bertram was suspended from the force, charged with negligence, perjury through false accusations (against me) and failure to protect a prisoner in his charge and, indeed, was lucky to escape jail. As it was he was dismissed in disgrace. I got no joy from any of that. As a rider, they tickled me about an inefficient search but Mr. Driscoll drew eye-witness evidence about what I’d done, especially at the hospital and I was exonerated. Other Police he called said they wouldn’t have considered the prisoner’s hair a hiding place. They did now.
When they turned to Corrigan, I was praised for solving the murder, commended for my handling of the prisoner up until the time she was taken from me. O’Reilly was a significant witness for me here.
I was promoted to Inspector.
And I got no joy from any of that either.
Don was appointed Commissioner.
At the end of it all, Mr. Driscoll took me to dinner.
‘I have to tell you, Bart that I’m the honorary Austrian and Bassenburg consul in our city and I know about you and the Princess Tessadonna, and jillaroo schools, brown snakes and all that. Have you been in touch with her since that event?’
‘No, and I wouldn’t expect to be. We came across each other, liked each other and then she left for home. I’m a copper and she’s a princess. End of story. What have you heard of her?’
‘Nothing. She’s dropped out of sight. Totally. Nothing seen nor heard for 12 months or more. I thought you two might have been in touch because of the fight she put up here at the airport when they were about to fly her home. She’s a determined girl and she wouldn’t leave until she saw you to say goodbye and thanks for the snake rescue. But they seemed to want her away from you and, in the end, she left. She said to me, ‘Please say to him that I’ll remember him always. ‘And that’s why we’re here. I’m not sure what went on…’
‘…nothing!’
‘Well, it did as far as she was concerned and, from the look on your face when I first mentioned her name, it did as far as you’re concerned. Coppers aren’t the only ones who can read expressions, you know, young Corrigan.’
And now the perspicacious lawyer had opened things right up for me again. Oh, Tessa! What’s going to happen to us? It just can’t end in nothing!
****
I was given some leave to get over all the dramas, although I didn’t need it. I was told to expect a new assignment when I returned in four weeks.
I drove to Monto and headed straight for the hospital.
The Matron wasn’t hard to find. She stopped dead in the long corridor when she saw me approaching and, as I got close, opened a door to a room and walked in, with me following. It was the same room that she’d taken Paula to, to search her.
I said, ‘Nothing’s going to happen. You hid the razor blade in Paula’s hair for her, didn’t you? Why? I was going to look after her.’
She was a severe looking white-haired woman of spare build and now she was teary.
‘She was terrified, despite your caring for her. She was terrified of jail, of the courts, of the Police and the cells. Just everything. She was my best friend. She begged me and I had to help her.’
I said, ‘She’d probably have got off, you know. Been given a bond and walked out of the court. That’s the opinion of everyone who’s examined her case since. You both acted too hastily. She should have trusted me.’
‘I know. All the time we were in this room, or nearly all the time, I spent calming her. I gave her a sedative but I didn’t search her. There was no point.’ A sedative? That explained her sudden calming on the plane.
I said, ‘She was a nice woman and the harm that was done, was done to her, not the murder victim. There’s often collateral damage.’
Matron said, ‘She had feelings for you and she felt that you had feelings for her too. But she felt it was all hopeless and you would know that hopelessness is the greatest cause of self-harm. I’m so sorry that it all happened, Mr. Corrigan, and in such a horrible way. But she’s unaware of it all now. Perhaps you and she, in a different time!’
Unsettling words, and I thought of them as I drove out of the town. I thought of Tessa, of course. When I was some miles out of town the Monto Police car passed me, going the other way. I raised my hand in the country way and O’Reilly did a huge double-take. I watched the rear view mirror but he didn’t pursue.
12.
I didn’t last for my full four weeks. I went out to Wandoan to the old family farm, now the home of my older brother, Dennis, and Josie and their boy and girl and I had a great time riding and chasing cattle.
But my mind was on work---murderers who wouldn’t leave obvious clues around the place. So I said goodbye to my relatives. It had been nice but Josie had been mine at one stage, until I went away to University and then Police training, but always with her floating in my future.
Then I’d received a summons to return home to be best man for Dennis and his bride---Josie. We never talked about it, although Josie occasionally gave me long looks. So two weeks of those looks was enough, thank you.
I returned to the murder offices but was summoned to the Commissioner’s office before long.
Don rose to greet me and sat with
me on the other side of his desk.
Some verbal sparring and then, ‘I want you near me, Bart. I can’t be away from your astonishing good looks, your vibrant personality, your wit and your sharp brain. You, Inspector, are going to become the Commissioner’s Liaison Officer. You can have my old office and you will move among the people who hate Police and you will find out why…not just the obvious reasons. And then you’ll move among Police and find out why they hate everyone, except their families and other Police. And then you’ll report to me direct with proposals. Start with the Muslim people. You’ll work out how. Go with all the gods, my son, and come in at five for a drink. Be gone, now!’
I was an investigator, not a public relations bloke, but Commissioner Simmons had spoken and I knew that it was unwise to disobey him. What am I saying? I had no choice!
It was early morn yet so I decided to call on the nearest mosque.
Don didn’t tell me he was ahead of me and at the first mosque, I was taken straight to the Imam who said Don had told him to expect me. We had a great chat and excellent coffee and pastries. He acknowledged the problem, on both sides, and said he’d call a meeting of all the Imams in Brisbane and we’d have a heart to heart. I left with bolstered confidence. This job mightn’t be too bad after all.
There was little more that I could do, but wait for the promised meeting. It was only 11 am. What to do?
I returned to my office, turned on my computer and Googled Bassenburg du Mont and spent an interesting hour studying where Tessa had come from. I Googled her but nothing came up. The country had an interesting history. It seemed that it was just a small, unprotected country centuries ago, vulnerable to anyone with a sword. Then one fateful day, Richard the Lion Heart was returning from a Crusade, badly wounded. He couldn’t make it past the tiny country and the people sheltered him and nursed him until he returned to his former notable strength.
Before departing for England he sent couriers out to all neighbouring countries to announce that Bassenburg du Mont and its citizens were henceforth under his protection. He left his sword as a symbol of his protection. He caused the people to elect a leader, and the head of the von Prambergs was so elected. The family had ruled ever since, wisely and well, giving us Her Royal Highness the Princess Tessadonna von Pramberg du Mont, jillaroo.
That stirred me and I set my investigative brain to looking at ways of contacting Tessa, but with no success. No phone contact permitted. It had been about 12 months. It seemed that I’d have to go to her country and knock on the door of the magnificent palace in which she lived. I’d have gone on my recent holiday if I’d thought of it, but what would I have said?
‘Is Tessa home, please?’
****
My meeting with the Muslims led to other meetings and I was gradually being accepted and, dare I say it, trusted, by the Imams and other high officials. I sat in on prayers, discreetly out of sight, and I learned to identify those who would cause trouble if they could. Their attitudes were clearly antagonistic.
Then I met with Police groups, a much more difficult task. Police didn’t trust anyone, understandable, considering the nature of their work. The Police Union wanted to be involved, and while I was grateful for their recent help, I didn’t want them involved. They were too jumpy about Police rights. I wanted to work with Police on an almost informal basis. Just an occasional chat to a group.
I needed their time to bring them together with the Muslims but there was always a reason why they couldn’t spare the time and I had to agree with them. I wasn’t going to run to Don crying. This was my problem and mine to solve.
And that was my life in the Police Force at this time. My nights were mostly my own and my week-ends certainly were. It was all a doddle, except for the union, but it was not for me. I needed brainwork and pitting myself against criminals.
Or else I needed a woman. There were some pretty policewomen around and I dated a few and love was in the air, but Tessa hung there out on the horizon.
I came home one day to a thick letter that the postie had fitted into my letter-box by mutilating it. I sorted it out and it was from Linda Leslie of The Gums. It enclosed another letter.
Linda: Hello young Barton. You won’t recognise the writing on the letter that I’ve enclosed but I did. You’ll be pleased. When do we see you again? Jim sends regards. Love Linda.
The letter: From the desk of Princess Tessadonna von Pramberg du Mont. This was crossed out and scrawled across it… From Tessa Pramberg, jillaroo.
‘My dearest, dearest Bart,
I suppose this is a bit of a surprise but, yes, all the time I was with you I was a Princess of Bassenburg du Mont, a little country next to Austria. I’d always admired Australia and I wanted to be a jillaroo and I nearly made it. Bloody snake!
It has taken me so much courage to write this letter. You could wonder why it took so long. I have to explain. All the time I was with you—with gentle, wonderful, tender and understanding Bart Corrigan, I was beginning to like you more and more. Those nights together, looking at the moon, our moon, built up my feelings and then, when the snake bit me and you nursed me on your shoulder, stroking my hair and my face and caring for me, I fell in love with you. You kissed me on the forehead, remember, and I’m sure you were going to kiss me on the lips when the bloody truck arrived. And then I was whipped off home without being able to say goodbye and thank you.
When I got home I thought about how to go about winning you. I knew I was no beauty, dumpy and awful teeth, so, for the past 12 months I’ve been working on Tessadonna… shaping up, and spending agonising hours in an orthodontist chair having my teeth straightened.
Now I think I feel confident enough to say that I love you and I want to be in touch with you. I’ve been spying on you in a way and I know that you’re not married but I can’t know about girlfriends or fiancées. I can only hope. I don’t even know where you are or what you’re doing.
Please write back, dear Bart. I’m putting pressure on you, aren’t I? But I must know. I’ve thought of nothing but you since we were parted.
So now I’ll wait. Please don’t delay? From your loving friend
Tessa.’
****
I was elated, no doubt about it.
I sat down and wrote:
‘My dear little Tessa
Of course I remember you. You’ve been in my thoughts too. When I was with you I was a Policeman, assigned to find you when you fled the Academy in Brisbane and then to watch over you at The Gums. I’m also a bushman so I could handle the training part ok. I’m now a Detective Inspector.
Yes, I knew you were a princess.
Tessa, I grew to treasure you as we moved along together and I watched for you to come out to be with me on those moon nights. I’m pretty sure I began to love you that time of the snake, or before that, and things have grown during our parting but I’d given up hope.
The Princess and the Copper. Do we have a future? Shall we try to have one? I’m afraid palaces aren’t my bag but I haven’t tried one yet. I’ll be honest and say that royal families aren’t either but I haven’t met yours yet.
Oh, yes I have. Your brother and I had a bit of a clash when he was instructing me about finding you. But I’m a forgiving bloke.
Yes, Tess. Let’s have a go and see what the future brings. Please forgive if I don’t go all poetic as you have. Aussie blokes aren’t like that. Perhaps you’ll teach me.
With all my love
Bart.’
****
‘My dearest Barton
You have made me the happiest girl in the world. I haven’t slept properly for many nights, thinking of you.
This will be short because I have plans for you and me. I sound like the Gestapo don’t I?
Soon you’ll receive a computer, a pretty powerful one, all set up with Skype and a camera and a microphone. It’s a gift from me, the first of many, but just a small way of saying thank you for saving my life. Not much, is it, but there’ll be more, m
y darling. There, I’ve said it. My darling!
If you’re a policeman you’ll know about computers and Skype, I’m thinking, so switch on when you’re ready and find my address. It’s programmed in. My own computer, which is beside my bed, will give a little alarm and we can see each other and talk, and I can’t wait. Don’t worry about the time difference, it’s not all that great and I’ll be ready at any time.
I love you, darling, and soon we’ll be nearly together. I have plans for that too, but I want to be able to see you and tell you.
I love you, Bart.
Tessa’
13.
Astoundingly beautiful! Unbelievably beautiful! Breathtakingly beautiful! Beautiful honey blonde hair in a loose pony-tail arrangement down her back. She had a perfect, gentle face, lovely green eyes, but I knew about them. Her face was perfect in every way. Her neck was slender, her lips perfect and her eyebrows perfectly arched. She smiled at me and her teeth were white and even, perfect.
She was looking at me anxiously and I found a voice.
‘Tess, you are beautiful. I loved the Tessa of before but you are captivating. I can’t find the words, darling. I’m not sure I’m worthy of you.’
‘Oh, you are, Bart! You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted and you’ll always be that man. You haven’t changed a bit but it wouldn’t matter. I loved the Bart of The Gums and I love the Bart of the computer. Do you think, now, we can be together? Forget the princess. Forget the policeman. Please let us be joined as soon as we can?’
‘Oh, yes, Tessa! We can be together. We must be together. Tell me your plans, Tessadonna.’
‘In May next year I am to be crowned head of the Principality in place of David who’s giving up the throne. Will you be able to come over, please, to watch me being crowned? I so want you to. Come, please?’
The Princess and the Cop Page 7
