by Tony Jones
‘Jesus-fucking-Christ,’ Milte exclaimed, his face almost as red as his mop of hair.
He’s got his Irish up, thought Harper. For his own part, he was starting to lose patience with this mysterious by-play.
‘Excuse me, gentlemen,’ he interrupted. ‘What exactly is going on here?’
The attorney-general looked at him and softened his voice. ‘Sorry, Harry. You must be thinking I’ve got a screw loose.’
Murphy leaned over to the bottle of red on the table. He refilled his own glass and held the bottle out to the new arrivals.
‘Not for me.’ Harper shook his head. ‘Bit late in the day.’
‘Nor me thanks, sir,’ said Sharp.
‘Call me Lionel, Al,’ said Murphy, taking a drink.
‘Yes, sir … Senator.’
Murphy turned back to Harper. ‘It’s ASIO, Harry. This business with the Croats has taken a rather disturbing turn. We have evidence that ASIO is acting against the interests of the government. They’re as bad as Reg Withers. They seem to think the election of a Labor government was an aberration.’
The attorney paused, a look of outrage clouding his pleasant face.
‘While you and your team are doing everything you can to stop Croat terrorists assassinating Prime Minister Bijedic on our soil, our own security service continues to insist there is no real threat from that quarter. It’s the same lie they’ve been peddling through Ivor Greenwood for a decade, as you well know. Now they’ve gone behind my back and put that conclusion in a memo they propose to pass on to the Yugoslavian government, as if they’d buy such a fiction. ASIO is acting as if the government hasn’t changed, Harry! It’s insupportable. They have either forgotten their duty as public officials or they’ve allowed it to be perverted. This is the last straw. I won’t let ASIO set its own boundaries anymore. They’re not a law unto themselves—they’re an arm of government and it’s time they understood that.’
Murphy paused, as if to judge whether the mystified policemen had fully comprehended his meaning. Then he continued.
‘So, Inspector Harper, the first thing I need to know from you is exactly how ASIO responded when you asked them for intelligence briefings on the persons of concern in the Croatian community. I assume, of course, that you have asked?’
‘Yes, sir. We have.’
‘And?’
Harper had no brief for ASIO. The animosity between the Organisation and the Commonwealth Police was legendary, but this was high-stakes politics. He was extremely wary, but he answered directly. ‘Well, it’s never easy dealing with ASIO. It’s like pulling teeth, to be honest. They do like to keep their secrets.’
‘Good God, Harry!’ Murphy thundered. ‘Have they given you anything at all?’
‘Frankly, no,’ said Harper. ‘Al Sharp’s my research officer. As you may know, he spent some years working in ASIO. He’s been dealing with them directly.’
Murphy turned to Sharp. ‘So what do you think’s going on, Al?’
‘It’s as the inspector says. We’ve asked them for whatever relevant information they may have on the Croatian extremists on our radar, and any others they know or who should be … Whatever they have in their files, really.’
‘Do you know what they’ve got in their files? Have you seen the material yourself?’ Murphy pressed him.
‘No, sir. I didn’t work in that area. They do have a Balkan Desk, which keeps track of all Yugoslavian communists resident in Australia. As to the other side—the opponents of Tito’s regime? Well, I couldn’t tell you. There’s a lot of speculation about that, even within the service. At best, it’s a low priority.’
Kerry Milte interrupted him. ‘It’s not speculation,’ he said. ‘They’ve been running Croatian Nazis as agents against the communists. The fucking Ustasha is under their protection. That’s what they’re hiding from you.’
‘You may be right, Mr Milte,’ said Sharp calmly. ‘But I have no direct knowledge of it.’
‘It’s a fact,’ said Milte.
‘I’m sure you know more than I do. In addition, I’ve asked for ASIO’s threat assessment on Bijedic’s visit. They keep putting me off. If you want my opinion, I don’t think they’ve done one.’
Murphy couldn’t restrain himself. ‘That’s a pretty picture. Are you pressing them, Inspector Harper? Are you pressing them for answers?’
Harper didn’t want to say anything likely to raise the already high temperature. ‘We’ve been extremely busy,’ he said. ‘Running down our own intelligence leads, sir. ASIO appears to have clammed up on us.’
‘Clammed up?’ cried Milte. ‘That’s putting it mildly. They are actively withholding vital intelligence when we’ve got threats to a foreign head of state, the prime minister and three members of his cabinet.’
‘I’ve seen no proof of them actually withholding anything,’ said Harper.
‘Well, now we’ve got the proof,’ said Milte. ‘This secret memo is damning—’
The attorney-general cut off his aide. ‘Let’s take this one step at a time,’ said Murphy. ‘I’d like to keep you fellows here while we get organised. Gentlemen, I’m afraid we’re all in for a long night. There’s another phone in the hallway if you’d like to ring your wives and tell them you won’t be home for some time, but no other calls, please. This must be contained for the time being. I don’t want anyone getting wind of what we’re up to.’
‘And what might that be, Senator?’ asked Harper.
‘I’ll let you know soon enough, Harry. Suffice to say, we’re going to be rattling some cages,’ said Murphy with a wink. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us. I have a few more calls to make.’
Harper caught Al Sharp’s eye. The man’s face had gone blank and Harper knew why. Politics and police work are not a good mix. It can make your career or fuck your career. Best avoided.
Harper stepped outside and saw that Ray Sullivan had arrived and was chatting to Wally Price. Detective Sergeant Sullivan had been seconded from the Commonwealth Police in Sydney for the Bijedic operation. He was an old hand who had been working on the Croats since they first came on the radar screen in the mid-1960s.
Harper greeted him warmly. ‘Good to see you, Ray.’
‘G’day, sir. Sergeant Price here reckons he doesn’t know a lot about what’s going on. What are they telling you?’
Harper addressed them both, carefully picking through what he’d just heard.
‘It’s still unclear, but one thing’s for sure: Murphy seems to be gearing up for some kind of confrontation with ASIO. He’s incensed about some document they kept from him. God knows who’s telling him about it. Putting two and two together, it seems to be an ASIO memo about the level of Croat threat.’
‘A confrontation with ASIO?’ said Sullivan. ‘That chimes in with something I picked up on the way here. One of the drivers reckons he had a job to take Murphy and Milte, along with Murphy’s secretary, to ASIO’s Canberra office around midnight. The three of them were in there for more than an hour. Came out all energised and tense, jabbering about a conspiracy.’
‘That’s not good,’ said Price, folding his arms, a ubiquitous fag smoking in his fingers.
Harper mulled over this new intelligence. ‘That’s funny,’ he said. ‘On our way over here we saw the ASIO offices in the West Portal all lit up. I thought it was odd. The only flap on at the moment is to do with the threat to Bijedic. This could all be about this mysterious document, memo or whatever it is. Looks to me like Murphy’s getting fed information from someone on the inside.’
‘But why are we here, Harry?’ muttered Price. ‘What does he want from us?’
‘That’s the strange thing,’ said Harper. ‘They keep avoiding the question about this supposed death threat to Murphy. That’s why I’m here, and that’s why I brought you here. But it’s starting to sound like an excuse for something else.’
Price stamped on the remains of his cigarette. ‘Fucking politicians. I don’t like this one bit.’
‘Me neither,’ sa
id Sullivan.
‘Nor do I,’ Harper agreed. ‘But Murphy’s ordered us to stay put and keep shtum. Whatever he’s up to, he’s worried about it leaking out. So keep this under your hats. Looks like we’re here for the duration of whatever this is. Al Sharp’s inside calling up his wife to say he won’t be home anytime soon. You fellas can do the same. But no details. Complete cone of silence.’
Harper stalked off to send the dog team home. His mind was turning over what Ray Sullivan had just told him. What the hell was Murphy doing at the ASIO office this evening and why hadn’t he mentioned it? We’re going to be rattling some cages. That was how Murphy had described it. Harry Harper was putting a scenario together in his head and, like Wal Price, he didn’t like it.
*
Milte came for Harper again just after 4 am. ‘Harry, can you come back in? The attorney wants a word.’
‘Is he going to tell us about this death threat?’
‘Well, the protection’s in place. He thinks it’s time to go on the front foot.’
Harper showed his irritation. ‘This is not Sheffield Shield cricket, Kerry. I’m not opening the batting. I just need to know what’s going on …’
Harper had been rehearsing his protest, but Milte cut him off.
‘There’s not much time, Harry. The attorney will explain, I’m sure.’
As he hustled Harper back into the house, Milte spotted Sharp chatting to Wally Price. ‘Come and join us again, will you, Al!’ he called.
They found the attorney-general pacing around on the thick pile carpet in the living room. Harper was exhausted. In the well-lit room he saw the strain on Sharp’s face, particularly in his red-rimmed eyes. He assumed that he’d look just as bad if he could see himself in a mirror.
Milte was a particularly robust character, but even he was showing signs of fatigue. Only Lionel Murphy’s vitality seemed completely unaffected by the hour. Harper had seen this with other such men. As well as being an aphrodisiac, power seemed to keep them plugged into the mains.
‘Harry, Al. Sit down. Sit down. How about a cup of coffee? Ingrid!’ Murphy called out, waving away Harper’s objections. ‘She’s up anyway, poor thing. Can’t sleep with all the commotion. Just made a fresh pot.’
Ingrid Murphy appeared in the kitchen doorway, pale and beautiful. Harper stood up and she smiled at him. He saw that her face had been softened by the pregnancy.
‘What is it, Lionel?’ she asked.
‘Ah, there you are, my dear,’ he said fondly. ‘Do you think we could manage coffee for these gentlemen? They’ve had a long night.’
‘Of course,’ she said and returned to the kitchen.
‘I promised we’d be rattling some cages, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ explained Murphy. ‘We’re going to Melbourne this morning on the first flight. I plan to make an unscheduled visit to ASIO Headquarters. I want you and your team to accompany me.’
Harper glanced at Milte, who raised an eyebrow. Wait for it, the eyebrow seemed to signal.
‘We won’t make it down there before office hours begin,’ Murphy continued. ‘So I will need the Commonwealth Police in Melbourne to go to St Kilda Road ahead of us to secure the building and lock the place down. All the files, all the safes, everything. I want to see the material they’ve got on the Croats and this damned memo. I don’t want to take any chances that they’ll shuffle it away into some dark corner. With the threat to Prime Minister Bijedic, we need everyone working together. And God help them if they have been lying, or concealing anything which could have helped to protect his life.’
Harper was incredulous. ‘You’re planning to raid ASIO Headquarters?’
‘Let’s call it a ministerial visit, shall we?’ said Murphy.
‘After sending in the Commonwealth Police to lock the place down? That’s not what the press will call it.’
‘Let me worry about them, Inspector … Ah, thank you, Ingrid.’
Murphy stood up as his wife placed a tray on the table between them.
‘As to myself, or any Commonwealth Police, going to Melbourne,’ Harper continued, ‘or locking down St Kilda Road, or whatever else you might want us to do—the orders for that would need to come directly from the commissioner.’
Murphy furrowed his brow and the fierce intensity returned to his eyes. ‘Are you saying my authority’s not enough?’
‘Of course not, Senator,’ said Harper. ‘But we are a disciplined service, and orders for something like this would have to come from the top. I need instructions from the commissioner.’
When Murphy started to object, Milte broke in. ‘No, he’s right. He’s quite right,’ he told the flustered politician. ‘You need to speak to the commissioner yourself and clear this with him.’
Milte brought the phone over and placed a call to Jack Davis. He apologised to the commissioner for waking him, before passing the phone to Murphy.
‘Morning, Jack,’ said Murphy. ‘I’ve got a crisis and I need your help …’
Milte took Harper by the arm and signalled to Sharp, leading them both out of the room. ‘Let’s give him some privacy,’ he said in a low voice.
In the corridor Harper confronted Milte again. ‘What am I supposed to tell the commissioner about these threats to the attorney-general? That’s the reason we’re here, after all—not for some witch-hunt inside ASIO.’
‘It’s not a witch-hunt,’ said Milte. ‘You said yourself, ASIO is not cooperating. The attorney has every right to get to the bottom of this. And they need to know who’s in charge.’
‘The threats, Kerry. The threats.’
‘Just tell him that the attorney-general is in receipt of information and reports which indicate that his safety and that of his family are in jeopardy.’
‘And when will I see that information?’ Harper demanded. ‘I do run the Bureau of Criminal Intelligence. You’d think the attorney-general might trust us with that.’
At that moment Lionel Murphy called from the living room: ‘Inspector Harper! Can you come back in?’
‘Let’s go,’ said Milte, opening the door, and Harper allowed himself to be shepherded back in.
‘All right. He’s here with me now, Jack.’ Murphy was on his feet again, pacing out the full length of a long phone cord. ‘Ha, ha. That’s right, Jack. Absolutely.’ He put his hand over the receiver. ‘Harry,’ he said, ‘the commissioner has approved my requests and put you and your team under my authority. Do you need to speak to him?’
‘No, Senator. That’s not necessary.’
Murphy put the receiver back to his own ear. ‘All right, Jack, that’s all understood at this end. We’ll keep you briefed during the day. Thank you.’ Murphy hung up and looked at Harper. ‘Right,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Let’s get down to some detailed planning.’
28.
From that moment things moved very quickly. Murphy instructed Harper to make permanent arrangements for the security of his wife and his house. The men working on the Bijedic detail would be relieved as soon as practically possible and replaced by a team from the Protective Services. Harper organised for a security survey of the house and grounds to be conducted first thing in the morning.
It was agreed that Harper and Sharp, along with Detective Sergeants Price and Sullivan, would accompany the attorney-general and Kerry Milte to Melbourne.
During the next frantic hour, Murphy and Milte were constantly on the two phones. Harper heard a call to Peter Wilenski, the prime minister’s chief of staff, in a failed attempt to secure the use of the government’s RAAF jet. There were calls to staffers charged with organising flights and transport for those joining the Melbourne odyssey. There were also calls to unnamed factional allies in the Labor caucus. When he thought about it later, Harper was not certain if Murphy had directly informed the PM himself. Keeping Whitlam in the dark would be hugely problematic for all of them.
At 5 am Murphy met again with Harper and Sharp to explain the specific orders to be relayed
to the Commonwealth Police in Melbourne. He tasked the two men with drafting the telex.
‘We’ve got to get the commissioner to approve every word and comma in the orders,’ said Harper. ‘They’ll be in his name.’
‘Do what you have to do. But do it quickly.’
Once Commissioner Davis had approved the wording, Sharp dictated the orders over the phone to Sergeant Bennett, still on shift at Compol’s Canberra headquarters. Bennett typed the message into the telex machine himself, fumbling over the keys, aware of his own small part in something momentous.
ON ATTORNEY-GENERAL’S DIRECT INSTRUCTIONS, THE OFFICER IN CHARGE OF VICTORIA DISTRICT IS TO IMMEDIATELY PROCEED TO HEADQUARTERS OF THE A.S.I. WITH SUCH MEN AS HE CONSIDERS NECESSARY AND SEAL WITH COMMONWEALTH POLICE SEALS ALL SAFES, CABINETS AND ANY CONTAINERS FOUND IN THAT BUILDING.
A COMMISSIONED OFFICER IS TO REMAIN ON THE PREMISES UNTIL RELIEVED ON THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL’S INSTRUCTIONS.
NO PERSON IS TO OPEN ANY CONTAINERS IN THAT BUILDING.
ALL CRIME INTELLIGENCE PERSONELL TO REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE MELBOURNE TTOMMMMMM-MMMMMMMMMMEEE MELBOURNE OFFICE.
COMPOL AA62001*
COMPOL AA31796
At 6.20 am, as the men readied themselves to leave for the airport, a call came in on the attorney’s second line. Harper answered it, and there was a pause before the caller spoke. ‘Is Kerry M-M-Milte there?’ The stutterer was a male.
‘Yes. Who’s calling?’
‘Tell him it’s T-Tom.’
Harper signalled to Milte. ‘For you.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Bloke called Tom.’
‘Oh, Christ.’ Milte rushed over and grabbed the phone. ‘Tom. What is it? Okay. Hang on … This is a private call, Harry,’ he said, shooing Harper away.
As he pulled the door closed behind him, Harper saw Milte crouched over the table, muttering quietly into the receiver. A few minutes later Milte came out and led the attorney to a corner of the living room. Harper watched them huddled together—the whispering advisor and the senator. He had the epiphany that politics had always been done like this, and he wondered how much they were keeping from him.
