by Derek Haines
‘Yes I did,’ Vince immediately admitted. ‘He was in a state. At first I could hardly make sense of what he was saying, but finally he calmed down enough to tell me that the police thought As New Spares was dealing in stolen property. I told him it couldn’t be true, and to cooperate with the police, and I’d try and find Steve to see what he knew. It took me until late the next morning to find out that Steven had been arrested. At about the same time I heard about Ted Murphy.’
‘You’ve closed down the parts business I hear,’ Williams said.
‘Yes, there was little choice. The damage to the goodwill of the business was enormous. The major shareholders decided it was the only course to take. The business was too young to handle such a bad image. It’s been costly, as I’d already invested heavily in an import export side to the business. In fact I had only hired a new manager for that department a few weeks before the tragedy with Ted. He’s still working for me, but the poor fellow is now really just an office clerk. I didn’t want to just sack him after such a short period. I’m hoping he might be smart enough to know what’s going on and find himself another position.’
‘And the other employees of As New Spares?’
‘They’re all still in my employ. Do you wish to speak to any of them?’
‘For the time being, no Mr Walsh. We may later if we need to.’
‘So what’s happened to my bright young manager?’ Vince asked now hoping his timing was right.
‘He’s on remand Mr Walsh,’ Williams answered, and followed with, ‘I thought you would’ve had enough of Mr Sharp.’
‘More than enough. That’s for sure. But I was hoping you might’ve been able to tell me if he has been charged with theft relating to his activities with As New Spares. It’s just that the board have closed this business on the knowledge that he was using As New Spares as a cover for his own operations. We’ve seen enough evidence ourselves in some of the few records we’ve been able to salvage from Steven’s office. But as a company we’d like to be able to clear our own good name as you’d appreciate. We haven’t heard that he’s been charged with anything other than the drug possession. Oh, and of course his escape,’ Vince added.
‘Yes, I can well understand you situation Mr Walsh. All I can say is that the investigation is proceeding. Sharp was only one person in this stolen car operation. As you would appreciate, we’d like to know who he was operating with,’ Williams said, giving nothing away.
‘Well, I trust that you could keep me informed at the appropriate time,’ Vince asked.
‘Yes, we will,’ Williams said.
‘Is there anything else I can help you with?’ Vince said, sensing that the meeting was coming to an end.
‘For the time being, no Mr Walsh. I thank you for your time,’ Williams said courteously.
‘Well, just let me know if there’s anything I can do,’ Vince said as the two detectives rose to their feet. He shook their hands and bid them good afternoon.
Once in their car and under way, Martin asked his superior, ‘What did you make of that sir?’
‘Tie up a few loose ends and close the file I think.’
‘And Sharp?’ Martin asked.
‘Maybe Walsh is crooked. Who knows? But there’s nothing to go on. All of Sharp’s information has led to zip. Maybe Sharp just wanted someone to go down with him. He left his previous employer in a huff.’
‘And his protective custody?’ Martin asked.
‘Oh, he’ll have that until his remand ends. Once he starts his sentence, it’s out of our hands.’
Vince felt relaxed after the police had left. He called off the search for Steve Sharp. Knowing he was still in remand was enough. He would turn up. If Steve had tried to incriminate him, it was clear to Vince that it hadn’t worked. There was no need to stir the waters now. Steven Sharp could wait. The meeting with the two detectives prompted him to think about David Holdsworth. He would have to let him go. There was no role in the company for him now. He asked his secretary to find him. Vince thought he might as well get this over and done with.
The two drivers from As New, he could use. Both had proven to be very reliable employees. He was planning to convert the two trucks owned by As New to carry cars, once the details of the company closure had been finalised. Carrying the cost of them as delivery drivers for a few weeks was better than having to hire new and untried drivers later. His intercom buzzed.
‘David Holdsworth hasn’t been into work since Friday Mr Walsh,’ his secretary said.
‘Try his home phone.’
‘Yes Mr Walsh.’
A few minutes later she advised him that she’d spoken to the landlord of David’s flat.
‘He told me that he was not living there any more. He’d left on Sunday or Monday and the landlord added that he’d trashed the place before leaving.’
‘Ok, thanks. Would you advise payroll that if we don’t hear from him by the end of the week to remove him from the payroll. Also, make a note for me for Friday to report the car he has as stolen.’
‘Yes Mr Walsh.’
Vince thought for a moment as to what could have happened to David Holdsworth but his attention was taken by an incoming phone call. The only time he would give another moment’s thought about David Holdsworth would be the following Friday when he asked his office manager to report to the police that David had stolen the company car he was driving. Vince moved on to business at hand and let David Holdsworth slip from his mind.
There had been no further communication from the police regarding Steven Sharp, so Vince moved forward confidently with his business. He felt he could now forget about Steven Sharp and the threat he had posed. The episode had sapped Vince of his enthusiasm for high risk, high return investments. He was a wealthy man. There was no need to push his luck now. On the same Friday, Detective Superintendent Frank Williams closed his enquiry into Vince Walsh. The Camden police would follow up the stolen car file, but for Williams, Steve Sharp would face his two charges of possession of cocaine and escaping legal custody.
By Friday, Tony believed David had just had enough and decided to start his life anew. Somewhere else. From what he knew of David, I didn’t surprise him. He hoped he’d headed west to his children. Tony had his own life to rebuild and it looked certain it would be back in Fremantle. He didn’t have the time or inclination to chase after David. Apart from Tony, very few people even noticed David Holdsworth had disappeared.
Motivation
Goals are very achievable targets in life when one has the motivation, patience and will to make them happen. In the month since the Pilletto family had reunited they decided to make Fremantle their goal. Tony and Tina made arrangements for their house to be listed for sale again. The children, especially the younger two, were excited at the thought of the move. The eldest two, although not as excited, with their circle of friends established in and around Camden, understood the motivation of their parents. This was all about family. Fremantle was the Pilletto home. Grandparents, uncles, aunties and cousins. There was a security there that would help the family heal and mend. It would take time to sell the house and arrange the move, months possibly, but all the family members were united in their plan. Tony was still working for Vince Walsh, and would stay until he moved west. He had no doubt that he could find work in Perth. There was always work, anywhere, for a hard working truck driver. All Tony wanted, was to forget the months that had been so painful. The six months that tore him apart. In the month since he and Tina had made the commitment to each other to rebuild their marriage, the memories of that period started the slow fading process.
It had been a month since Tony had seen David. With no long standing bond, only the six months of shared pain and bitter feelings and memories to unite them, Tony’s thoughts of David became less frequent. He had no responsibility to him. In a way, he was glad that David had gone. Along with Steve he represented a period of time Tony wanted to forget. In Tony’s mind now, his only thoughts were going to be about h
is family’s future. Fremantle and family were now his daily motivation. His bitterness had ended.
Steve had been transferred to Goulburn to start his sentence of two years for possession of a trafficable amount of cocaine. He was yet to face court regarding his escape, but had prepared himself for at least another year being added to his sentence. He’d feared that he would be vulnerable to Vince Walsh in Goulburn, but nothing had been said by any other inmates to indicate that Vince was after him. D.S. Martin had told him that the information Steve had given had lead nowhere, and that the investigation had been closed. Steve then resigned himself to the completion of his prison sentence. Hopefully without any pay back from Vince. He also hoped that in a few years, when he was released, he could move away from Sydney, and start afresh. At this early stage of his sentence, he thought Brisbane might be a good place for a fresh beginning. Prison seemed to be where Steven made up his time he missed at school. For something to do, Steven enrolled to undertake a correspondence course to add to his qualifications. He enrolled in a degree course in economics. Calculating he would be around thirty-five when his sentences would be complete, he believed he had plenty of life left to start again.
There is no more desolate place than the loneliness of a bitter man’s mind. A barren desert where not a single flower blooms, not a single stream of beauty runs, not a single tree of wisdom grows. David Holdsworth was lost in the wasteland of his bitter memories. The past now twisted with acidic thoughts of the people David believed had violated and defiled his love and friendship throughout his life. In a cheap motel room in Wollongong, where he’d been staying for the past week, he continued his recently started project of listing the names of the people who’d destroyed his life. Since his departure from Camden he stayed in weekly periods in the cheapest motels he could find. First in Campbelltown, then Liverpool, Appin and now Wollongong.
He’d purchased a red, hard bound A4 journal from a newsagent a few days before, and was meticulously entering the names of the people in his life. One to a page. Below their names was a list of what he titled ‘offences’, and listed the activities or acts they had perpetrated to lead to his current demise. For three days, he locked himself away in his room to complete his accusations and indictments. The first three pages of the book where entirely devoted to his ex wife. The next two pages to his first wife. After followed friends, lost lovers, acquaintances and family. This day, the fourth in a row devoted to his task, he started listing the names of people, many he had not met, but who he believed had contributed to his misery in life. The list became extensive as he recalled schoolteachers, the deputy headmaster who’d banished him from school, employers, police, mayors, politicians, solicitors, doctors and magistrates. Each with their own personal list of offences committed against David Holdsworth. The last two entries in his red journal were reserved for two men. The Federal Attorney General and the Chief Justice of the Family Court. The offences he listed for these two entries stretched for more pages each than those of his ex wives.
The next day, day five of his journal, he began his work immediately after breakfast. Starting at page one, he read the offences of his ex wife. He re-read them. And again. Then, he took a red pen so as to highlight his next entry against the black ink of the name, and the blue of the offences. He then printed as neatly as he could a heading below the offences. ‘Punishment’. Then he proceeded to turn the pages of the book, and print the heading of ‘Punishment’ at the foot of every entry. Counting the entries as he went, he totalled forty-seven accused persons. He then returned to the beginning to pass sentence an all the accused.
After sitting in total silence, just staring at the first entry, his ex wife, and the list of accusations for more than thirty minutes, he took out a green pen and started to pronounce his sentence. ‘To Live in Fear And Uncertainty’. David looked at the entry and smiled happily. After considering what he had written, he moved on to the next entry. On his first wife he passed the following sentence. ‘Total Ostracism’. Proceeding through his journal, taking time to consider every entry, he passed sentence on each in turn. By midday he had only completed twenty sentences. Many sentences simply read, ‘A Written Caution’. A few were more detailed and marked as, ‘To be supplied with educational material’. Two of the entries received the sentence of ‘Symbolic Retribution’. In the afternoon and evening he passed his nonsensical written sentences on all but two. The last two. The Attorney General and the Chief Justice.
Opening his suitcase, he reached inside the zippered flap inside the lid of the case. He pulled from it his scrapbook of newspaper clippings. Starting his collection just a week after his wife had left him, with one small clipping of a story about a man who had killed himself and his three children, David had become fanatical in collecting any newspaper story about aggrieved men who had suffered the effects of the Family Court. Any stories mentioning the Family Court, or magistrates involved in Family Law, suicides, domestic violence related to Family Court disputes, any related issues he kept. Neatly arranged in a silver photo album, he had every article dated with notes attached of any further developments he had heard on the radio or seen on television. During the time Tony and Steve had been in the flat with him, he had kept his scrapbook hidden from them in the back of his wardrobe, as he thought they would think he was obsessed. He would add to his collection only when he was alone. He looked at his hand written title on the front cover of his scrapbook. ‘Dead Men’.
As he was doing now, he had often read the clippings in their entirety to fuel his anger at a system that he believed had become so unjust and had destroyed him. Gaining a perverted delight in enthusing himself with the anger and frustration felt by other men, and in some instances, women, in his situation, he had hoped he would be able to do something to ease their suffering. His one attempt, in writing his letter to the newspaper, had bought forth a tide of letters and emails of similarly aggrieved men and a few women. At that time he’d had enthusiasm for doing something, but did not know what to do. All he had achieved was to burden himself with the feelings of others. Now he had the enthusiasm, and the motivation to make his mark. With not a friend in the world, no one to even wonder where he was, a loner, a non person, he knew now was the time for him to make his symbolic mark. After reading the last clipping in his scrapbook, he opened his red journal to the last two entries. Selecting his green pen again, he wrote his considered judgement of sentence for the two accused.
At the bottom of the page for the Attorney General he wrote, ‘Death by Execution’. At the bottom of the following page for the chief Justice of the Family Court he wrote again, ‘Death by Execution’.
He closed his red journal, and now satisfied with his days work, went to bed and slept peacefully. The next morning was time to move on. With no reason in mind he decided that his next stop would be Canberra. From there he would embark on his mission. To carry out the sentences he had passed today. David woke the next morning with a zest for life and a reason to live. A goal. He was motivated again for the first time in almost a year. After breakfast he checked out of the motel. Before starting the drive to Canberra, he stopped at the newsagent near the motel from where he had bought his red journal. He purchased a variety of envelopes, padded post bags, six different coloured writing pads, scissors, glue and a selection of writing pens and highlighters. From there, he walked to the post office and bought a box of fifty postage stamps. Now he was ready to drive to Canberra.
Filled with a sense of purpose, David’s mood during the three hour drive was jovial. He sang along with songs on the radio. Smiled, just because it was a sunny day. Whistled songs he had played on his violin. Stopping for petrol in Braidwood, he met a group of tourists on a driving tour of the south west of New South Wales. Joining them for a cup of coffee, he happily told them about places they should see on their tour. Not one of them would have believed what was in the mind of the man they had just met.
Arriving in Canberra a little after one in the afternoon, David found
the cheapest motel he could find, booked in, and then had a lunch of all you can eat pizza at the restaurant next to the motel. Once replete, he walked a short distance to a nearby service station and bought a newspaper. On his short walk back to his motel he readied himself to embark on his mission. To complete the implementation of the forty-seven sentences he had passed. His starting point would be to commence the research phase. He needed the addresses and phone numbers of each convicted individual. Back in his room, he wrote out a list of the names in his journal onto a piece of paper, and then drove to find a post office. There he started finding the names in the library of telephone books. When he left at a little before five o’clock, he had found a little more than half of the addresses and phone numbers he needed. Tomorrow he would find the electoral office, and search the electoral rolls.
‘Are you staying long in Canberra Mr Johnson?’ the waitress in the motel restaurant asked David as she took his dinner order.
‘About a week,’ he answered. His eyes struggling to stay fixed on her face, as the knotted shirt she wore exposed her trim torso above a short black skirt. Her cleavage, a pleasing sight, was difficult for David to not glance at.
‘Are you on business?’ she continued.
‘Research,’ David answered, and realised how honest the answer was. He wondered how old she was. It was difficult to tell, as she was wearing her blonde hair in plaits, but her brown eyes, enlarged a little by her glasses gave a hint that she may be around thirty.
‘And what sort of research are you doing? I’m a researcher during the day. I do this job part time for a bit of extra cash. Maybe I can help.’
‘Oh, thanks, but I’m not so sure you could help.’
‘Why not?’
‘I work by myself. I’m a private investigator.’ He enjoyed the look he received from the waitress.
‘Wow! That must be exciting. All I research is boring political polling. You know, telephone surveys.’
