Man at the Window

by Robert Jeffreys

  ‘Who’s that?’ Cardilini asked before acknowledging Carmody and the other boy.

  ‘That’s Harper,’ Carmody said and gave a nod to Mohr, realising that it hadn’t been Harper who Cardilini had spoken to.

  ‘Why’s he here?’ Cardilini asked.

  ‘He has something you want, I think,’ Leggett said and received a nod from Carmody and Mohr.

  Cardilini screwed up his face with questioning impatience.

  Carmody turned to Cardilini and said tightly, ‘Captain Edmund had summoned him for some buggery. He must have gone in after Edmund was shot. He trod on the bullet and picked it up.’

  ‘Are you saying, that boy … he looks like a ten-year-old.’ Cardilini said incredulous.

  Paul, white faced, looked at his father.

  Leggett said, ‘This is Mohr. Mohr, this is Detective Cardilini and his son, Paul.’

  Cardilini and Carmody eyed each other. Paul and Mohr shook hands.

  Before Cardilini saw Harper, he felt on sure footing. He was going to hear them out and work towards them dropping the false accusations against him. He wanted Paul to hear that, but now he felt he’d walked into a closing trap.

  ‘Paul isn’t aware of all the details and there is no need for him to know … so Paul …’ Cardilini nodded for Paul to go.

  ‘I think he should hear what we’re about to discuss,’ Leggett said.

  ‘I’d like to, Dad. I know what you said that man did, but …’ he nodded to the door, ‘… I don’t understand.’

  ‘None of us do, Paul. That’s why he was able to do what he did for so long. And all of us here are guilty of aiding him,’ Leggett said.

  ‘Dad?’

  Leggett interrupted with, ‘A child’s word against an adult’s word without any supporting evidence, there isn’t a lot that could be done. Isn’t that right, Cardilini?’

  Cardilini nodded.

  ‘I know the shot came from the school,’ Leggett said as he crossed and closed the door to the passage.

  Cardilini mockingly asked, ‘Do you know who’s responsible?’

  ‘I said you’d hear what you wanted to hear. Didn’t you believe me?’

  Cardilini slowly shook his head.

  Carmody and Mohr looked at each other, concerned.

  Leggett walked back to the chair, sat and ran his gaze from one to the other before repeating, ‘I know the shot came from the school. I know, because I made that shot.’ The four sat staring at him in stunned surprise.

  ‘It’s a confession. I wanted you all here to witness it.’

  The air seemed to be sucked from the room. Cardilini and the three young men looked dumbfounded at Leggett.

  Leggett started, ‘On two previous occasions as the presiding judge, I have declared the death penalty … and I would come home and pray for the executioner, a man, to my shame, I could never look in the eye …’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ Cardilini interrupted.

  ‘Which part?’

  ‘That you pulled the trigger to kill Edmund.’

  ‘Well, as we both know, what you believe is irrelevant when all the evidence points to me. I had motive. I know how it was done. I know where the weapon I used is and how I obtained it. And how I disposed of it. And now, it’s possible to prove that the actual bullet I placed in the chamber is the one young Harper has arrived with. You will find, Detective Cardilini, when it comes to providing bullet proof evidence, I know exactly what I’m doing.’

  ‘But your age – you’re frail, no one would believe you could climb the wall, let alone make that shot.’

  ‘What wall? There’s a gate you know.’

  ‘What did you do with the murder weapon?’

  Leggett smiled. ‘The rifle? I returned it to the armoury.’

  ‘Which rifle did you use?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell. But then there’s no need for me to tell, you’ll have a bullet to find the matching rifle.’

  ‘How did you get into the armoury?’

  ‘Idle tongues unintentionally told me where the keys were kept,’ Leggett glanced at Carmody and Mohr.

  ‘But you still couldn’t make the shot,’ Cardilini insisted.

  ‘I think when put to the test I’ll be accurate enough, but some practice wouldn’t go astray.’

  Cardilini sat back in his chair. Carmody and Mohr had sat speechless throughout.

  ‘But, sir …’ Carmody started.

  Leggett held up his hand. ‘Don’t say anything, please, Carmody.’

  ‘I still don’t believe you,’ Cardilini said.

  Leggett looked steadily at Cardilini. ‘Knowing what that man was doing any given night of the week. I had to act.’

  ‘But you didn’t know. You and the board didn’t believe it to be true,’ Cardilini stated.

  Leggett looked sheepishly at Carmody and Mohr. ‘That’s true. Carmody convinced me otherwise.’

  Mohr shot a puzzled look at Carmody, who gave a brief shrug.

  ‘Right. Without further ado, let’s get that brave little man in here.’ Leggett walked to the door then turned. ‘He’s got the bullet that will take me to trial. My lawyers will call on him and the other abused to tell their sordid stories in court to reduce my sentence. I obviously haven’t many years left so they’ll go as hard as they can. Difficult to say how the public display will harm them or their families.’

  Carmody stood aghast. ‘You can’t. We promised, no one would know.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to,’ Leggett replied, opening the door.

  ‘Dad,’ Paul said in alarm.

  ‘You’re bluffing,’ Cardilini stated.

  ‘No,’ Leggett replied and looked each of them squarely in the eye. ‘At the moment the boys Carmody has spoken to feel some relief, feel they have another chance, feel that a type of justice has been done. Is that right Carmody?’

  A confused Carmody turned to Cardilini. ‘We’ve spoken to six boys including Harper and Lockheed. Yes, that’s still the case.’

  Leggett smiled at Cardilini. ‘Here’s your chance; you’ve got a confession, everything’s in your hands now, Cardilini.’ Leggett paused, then added. ‘Carmody and Mohr will deal with the Mossop matter as we agreed.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Carmody and Mohr replied.

  ‘Tell Detective Cardilini,’ Leggett instructed.

  Carmody turned to Cardilini, ‘Mossop will withdraw his allegation.’ He turned to Paul, ‘Sorry, we just wanted to protect the other boys. We were never going to let your father lose his job.’

  Leggett motioned to Paul and asked, ‘Can we have a chat?’ Paul stood and looked to his father, who nodded. ‘I’ll send Harper in.’ He left and Paul followed.

  ‘The old bastard. You know he’s lying,’ Cardilini said and stood to pace the room.

  ‘Would he really go ahead with it?’ Mohr asked.

  ‘Do you believe Leggett did it?’ Cardilini asked, turning on the boys.

  Carmody and Mohr looked at each other. ‘No,’ Carmody said.

  ‘I don’t either.’

  Mohr asked. ‘But is he correct? Would the boys have to testify about Edmund?’

  ‘Yep. That could happen,’ Cardilini replied.

  ‘I know he wouldn’t do it,’ Carmody said. Cardilini and Mohr looked doubtfully at him.

  ‘Tell me about Harper,’ Cardilini instructed.

  Carmody and Mohr sat and stared back gloomily.

  ‘Carmody?’ Cardilini prompted sitting.

  Carmody took a deep breath then started to speak slowly, outlining in detail what Mrs Lockheed had already explained to Cardilini. He described how Edmund would put the boys’ penises in his mouth while they stood holding their rifle, then threaten to reveal to their parents what they allowed him to do. The boys at this stage, he said, were completely under Ed
mund’s power, fearful of the pain it would cause their families. Cardilini listened to the sound of Carmody’s steady words, sinking further back in his chair as if trying to distance himself from them. At several points Mohr swore and vigorously wiped tears from his eyes. Camody told him about the boy having the bullet and of the fight he’d had with a third form boy. When he finished and looked imploringly at Cardilini.

  ‘What are you going to do, sir?’ Mohr asked earnestly, just as the boy stood in the doorway.

  Fifty-three

  Day 20

  Legget’s

  8.15 p.m. Friday, 13th November 1965

  After he’d walked past the room Carmody and Mohr had entered, the boy followed Mrs Leggett into the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table.

  She had curly hair and tiny lines that all grouped up when she smiled and the boy couldn’t help smiling back. She placed a glass in front of him, it held a cloudy liquid.

  ‘Leggett makes it. Do you make ginger beer?’ she asked. He didn’t, but he had wanted to, other second formers did and they always talked about it and swapped it between themselves. He breathed a smile, he might be able to do that now.

  ‘I’m going to,’ the boy said and Mrs Leggett smiled again.

  ‘Leggett did when he was at school, when he was your age.’ The boy wondered if she meant the spindly man. ‘Drink up.’

  The boy put the glass to his lips, the bubbles on the surface tickled his top lip. He sipped, and it was cold and sharp and sweet.

  ‘How does it compare?’ Mrs Leggett asked him.

  He wasn’t sure, he’d never tasted any of the other boys’ brews, he’d been a ‘creep’. Even if they didn’t know, he knew, and a ‘creep’ couldn’t do things that other boys did. A frown travelled across his face. He couldn’t be a creep anymore because . . .

  ‘Does it taste funny?’ Mrs Leggett said and poured herself a small glass to taste. The boy shook his head, smiling.

  ‘You looked worried,’ she said.

  The boy nodded and took another sip; it was less sharp and sweeter this time, and he took another sip and looked around the kitchen. The sideboard was huge, big plates were stacked on it like at his mother’s. He could see out into the backyard through the window over the sink, there were gold light globes on a long cord hanging like bunches of grapes. He shifted to the side to see more out the window.

  ‘Do you want to have a look outside?’ The boy nodded. ‘Bring your glass.’

  The boy slid from the chair holding his glass out in front of him like a precious jewel. Mrs Leggett walked before him to the passageway and held the flyscreen door open. He walked through onto the verandah. The lights started on one end of the verandah, went out into the yard to a post, made a line across the back of the lawn to another post and then back to the other side of the verandah. There had to be twenty or more; he would count them if he got a chance. They were lights like the sideshows use but he’d never seen them in a backyard before. He wondered if they had shows out here.

  After the Royal Show had come to his country town, he and his brother put one of his father’s tow ropes between two pear trees in their backyard. They tried to walk it like they saw in the show, but close to the lawn. One time they had put chairs up and their mother and father watched them. Only trouble was, neither he nor his brother were able to stay on, even though they had nearly walked to the middle another time. Not ready to leave home yet, his father had said. He hadn’t left home and didn’t want to. That was years ago. There were thirty-one lights and some big trees where you could put a tightrope.

  ‘Have a look at this,’ Mrs Leggett said, and the boy followed her to another shelter that had a Tilley lamp glowing. Moths were circling around the lamp, some were lying still at the its base, others were flipping and flapping. They had got too close, they would still be there in the morning, dead. A shiver went through him.

  ‘Are you cold?’ the woman asked.

  The boy shook his head and he went into the shelter and looked up at the branches all packed and tied. He wondered if the spindly man did it, he knew his father could make this if he told him. He would tell him about the lights, too. He imagined what their backyard would be like with gold lights hanging like grapes.

  ‘Take a seat,’ the lady said to him and he pushed himself onto a chair. ‘Would you like some more ginger beer?’ He nodded, yes. She smiled at him and walked back to the house.

  He felt very homesick. He hadn’t wanted to go home last holiday, he was frightened his mother and father would see in his eyes what had happened to him. Terrible images jumped at him, he shook his head.

  One time, at the pool, he’d punched a town boy who had said the boy’s parents ‘do it’. The town boy punched him back and then there were six of them fighting. They were wet and slippery from the pool and slipping on the lawn. Wally, the pool man, was yelling at them and the girls were laughing. They stopped fighting, and a town boy said he had cigarettes. So they all went behind the toilet block where buffalo grass grew up against the cyclone fence and made a hiding place. The town boy had three cigarettes, he’d pinched them from his mum. The boy coughed and coughed. They all laughed except the boy. Then a town boy coughed and coughed and the boy laughed at him. They all began pushing each other against the dunny wall, saying the boys they pushed smelt like dunny paper until some older girls yelled at them to get away from there and stop behaving like babies. They left and the town boy said it was because the girls were wetting their pants and couldn’t go if we could hear them. For some reason this was very funny and they rolled about on the lawn, laughing.

  The lady poured some more ginger beer into his glass. She was smiling. She asked where he came from, he said Wongan Hills and saw the road leading to the farm house, it made him happy. She asked if he had brothers and sisters? He nodded. If he liked school? He lied that he did. She asked what he was going to do when he grew up. He said he would work on the farm. She said he might like to do something different. He’d never thought of that.

  He watched the spindly man and the young man stand on the verandah. At one point the spindly man had his hand on the young man’s shoulder while he spoke, like the boy’s father did when he wanted to tell the boy something the boy didn’t want to hear.

  ‘Jean,’ The spindly man called. The spindly man and the young one were now turned, looking at the boy, smiling.

  ‘You go in and see Carmody and Mohr if you like,’ Mrs Leggett said to him. ‘Here, I’ll hold your glass.’

  The boy reluctantly surrendered his glass and started towards the verandah. He didn’t think Carmody had brought him here to see the lights. Maybe his brother would like to see them. As he walked past the spindly man, he felt the bones of the man’s fingers ruffle his hair. He looked up at the spindly man who gave a nod and another ruffle with his nobbles. The boy walked to the kitchen but nobody was there. He walked to the door Carmody and Mohr had entered and stood. The big, sad man was standing up and signalled him in. The boy looked behind him, perhaps, Mrs Leggett was there and that’s why the sad man was standing but she wasn’t.

  ‘This is Mr Cardilini, Harper,’ Carmody explained.

  ‘Harper,’ the big man said.

  ‘How do you do, Mr Cardilini?’

  Carmody and Mohr were sitting in chairs on the boy’s left. Carmody signalled him to a chair between them. The boy went over and sat. He thought Carmody would want to go back to school and he wouldn’t get to finish his ginger beer.

  ‘Mr Cardilini has a few questions …’ Carmody hadn’t finished but the boy turned his head sharply in Carmody’s direction. ‘It’s all right. Mr Cardilini is like me and Mohr, he wants what’s best for you, he would be very angry, like me and Mohr, if anyone …’

  ‘That’s okay, Carmody,’ the big man said. ‘You have nothing to fear from me, Harper.’ The boy looked at the big man’s eyes. They were like two lost streetlights way out
in nowhere, each didn’t know the other existed. He trusted the big man.

  ‘Carmody said you found something, can you show me?’

  The boy looked to Carmody who nodded back at him so he reached into his pocket and held it lightly before extending his arm and opening his hand. The big man bent over and looked at it, he was seeing the spreading eucalyptus flower side.

  ‘Do you mind?’ he asked and gestured to the bullet. The boy indicated he didn’t and the big man’s big fingers picked it up and turned it over. He measured it against his little fingernail, turned it over a few more times, then shook his head. He eventually sighed like a bull sighs when it’s sick of waiting for the boy to open the gate. He placed the bullet back in the boy’s hand, the boy closed his fingers on it and looked to Carmody. Carmody nodded, he had done well.

  ‘Carmody said only he and Mohr know you have it.’ The boy looked to Carmody and shrugged. ‘Have you told anyone else?’ the big man asked.

  The boy shook his head. The big man sat back in his chair and asked, ‘Do you want to keep it?’

  Again the boy shook his head.

  ‘Would you give it to me?’ The boy looked at Carmody who said it was up to him. The boy opened his palm and held it out for the big man, who now didn’t seem to want it. He just looked at it and the boy’s arm was getting sore, but no one said anything. Finally the big man sighed like a bull again and reached for it but paused, holding his fingers over the boy’s palm without touching the bullet. The boy turned to Carmody and then Mohr, both were looking intently at the big man’s fingers. The boy shifted his other hand to hold up his outstretched arm at the elbow. He wondered if they had poured his ginger beer out because he was taking so long. The big man sat back and said.

  ‘I hear you had a fight this afternoon?’

  ‘Yes,’ the boy said looking at his outstretched arm.

  ‘Why do you think I want the bullet?’

  The boy shook his head.

  ‘What if I told you I was a policeman?’

  The boy pulled his hand back and put it on his lap in alarm, he imagined a policeman was asking for his father’s bullet.