The Tattooed Man

by Alex Palmer

  No, Dad. If you want to come along, you have to stay.

  ‘If that’s what you want, then I’ll stay.’

  Harrigan was about to drive out of the car park when he saw a dark brown Holden station wagon pull into one of the visitor spots. A teenage girl got out, slender in jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was a bounce of dark curls streaked with iridescent pink and she had a piercing in her nose. Emma. She was followed by an older woman whom he guessed to be her mother. He should have stopped to introduce himself but he didn’t have the time. Just think about my son, he thought as he drove away. Don’t go breaking his heart or driving him to distraction.

  He drove over to Waverley Cemetery as fast as the traffic would allow. When he reached Freeman’s house, the street was full of police cars. Freeman’s neighbours crowded the tall windows of their houses, watching. Harrigan ducked under the blue ribbons. Freeman lay where he had fallen. He was surrounded by the pathologist’s team who were photographing him. For the second time in two days, Harrigan saw the huge figure of McMichael bending over another of what he sarcastically described as his clients.

  Harrigan walked along the side lane. He saw Grace’s car, Rosebud, a lovingly polished 1972 red Datsun 240Z, parked beside the gate. She called it her piece of retro culture on wheels and had done out the interior in seventies kitsch, right down to the zebra-striped seat covers. A uniformed officer let him into the backyard. Trevor was standing beside the back door, talking to two of his people. Harrigan walked up to him and the two officers went inside the house.

  ‘Where’s Grace?’

  ‘She’s inside taking Frankie through what happened,’ Trevor said. ‘Do you want to talk to her?’

  ‘When she’s finished. What was she doing here in the first place?’

  ‘She says Freeman came up to her on Bondi beach. You’ll remember the Firewall investigation—Gina Farrugia and her boyfriend? Freeman killed the both of them here in his cellar. It was on his mind.’

  ‘Are you telling me Jerry Freeman had something on his conscience?’

  ‘Apparently. He was dying of heart failure. He wanted to share it with someone before he carked it.’

  Harrigan believed this no more than if he’d been offered a three-dollar note and assured it was legal tender. ‘Show me where it happened,’ he said.

  He followed Trevor through Freeman’s squalid house, wondering why anyone would want to live like this.

  ‘What happened in here?’ he asked.

  ‘According to Gracie, Freeman told her the place was turned over while he was in hospital. He didn’t know why. But that’s why I’m here, boss, when I’ve got other things to do. If the Ice Cream Man’s dead up at Pittwater and someone’s taking pot shots at Freeman down here, it’d be nice to know if there’s any connection. Especially when someone’s done over the place like this.’

  ‘Why did Grace come back here if all Freeman wanted to do was unburden himself? Did he have something he wanted to give her? Maybe something connected to the Ice Cream Man?’

  ‘You’d think that but she says no. She says she drove him home because he was too sick to get here by himself.’

  Harrigan perceived that Trevor had as many doubts about the story as he did. If Grace had been anyone else, Trevor would have found a way to search her bag and her car, even her person if necessary. Harrigan would have expected him to. But because of who she was, Trevor wouldn’t lay a finger on her. He’d accept what she had to say and wait for her to decide to tell him the whole story.

  Out on the porch, Freeman lay face down on the steps. The bulk of his body and his blood covered them. When Harrigan appeared, McMichael straightened up, raising his bushy eyebrows.

  ‘Harrigan. We meet again after less than twenty-four hours. You could be stalking me. Not a good idea. I only go where the dead people are.’

  ‘That thought had crossed my mind before today. Just tell me how he died.’

  ‘He took three bullets to the chest. One went straight through the heart. I’d suggest it probably shortened his life by about half an hour. He was a very sick man. He appears to have saved your lovely lady friend’s life by making himself the target instead of her. Maybe you should thank him posthumously.’

  ‘I’d watch what you say, Ken. You’re not sacrosanct,’ Harrigan said in the very calm voice he used only when he was genuinely angry. McMichael took the meaning and went back to work without another word.

  Harrigan thought how all three of the men who had once tried to kill him were now dead. The last of them, Freeman, had just fallen through that small, immense crack between here and nowhere, pushed out by someone who wasn’t so very different from Freeman himself. Harrigan could ask himself why he’d built his life around men like this. He went back inside with Trevor.

  ‘Is what old Slice and Dice just said true?’ he asked.

  ‘Pretty much. According to Gracie, Freeman put himself between her and the gun. The gunman was riding a motorbike and he was helmeted up. All she could tell us about him was that he wasn’t a very big man. The patrol saw him turning into the lane when they were coming in the other end of the street. We’re looking for him now.’

  ‘Who phoned in?’

  ‘A woman two doors down. She didn’t hear anything. She went out to check her mail and saw Freeman all over the steps. Gracie said the gun was pretty quiet.’

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘Down in the cellar with Frankie. She was pretty cool, boss,’ Trevor added admiringly. ‘Anyone else would have been dead by now.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Harrigan replied, feeling ice all the way down his spine.

  He looked down into Freeman’s filthy private graveyard, now glaringly lit. Broken rock and grey dust covered a packed earthen floor, turned almost monochrome under the white light. Grace hadn’t seen him. She had her hair tied back and was holding herself too straight. He could see the tension in her shoulders. Trevor’s senior sergeant, a sharp-tongued, sharp-minded woman, was with her. As frumpy as an unfashionable primary school teacher in her paisley blouse and ugly navy slacks, Frankie was as cynical as they came.

  ‘I was standing there,’ Grace was saying. Harrigan watched her point to a place under the stairs. ‘He had a South African accent. Soft voice. His exact words were: “Are you in there, man? I’ll find you. I’ll hear you breathe.” He tried to come down the stairs but they were too shaky and he couldn’t see in the dark. He would have known I had a gun and that I’d used it just a short time ago. Then he left.’

  ‘This was Freeman’s gun?’

  ‘Yes, he took it out when I got here. He was worried for his safety. He told me to hold on to it.’

  ‘You didn’t think that was strange?’

  ‘No. It fitted the man he was,’ Grace replied.

  ‘And you think this killer was a professional?’

  ‘I’d say he’s done this before. I couldn’t tell what make his gun was but it wasn’t something you’d buy cheaply. He shot left-handed as well.’ Grace folded her arms protectively about herself. ‘Is that it? Can we get out of here now?’

  ‘Just a few more questions. Let’s go back to when you were standing on the front step.’

  Harrigan turned away. ‘I want to see Grace’s car,’ he said to Trevor.

  Outside in the hot sun, Harrigan looked at the Datsun parked in the laneway.

  ‘This hasn’t been moved, has it? Our gunman would have seen it when he came up here. He’d have to guess this was Grace’s car. There’s no other reason why it’d be parked here.’

  ‘That’s so.’

  ‘Have you checked it?’

  ‘We haven’t had the time yet.’

  Harrigan walked around the car, turning to look down to where the lane met the road. What would you have time to do? Where would you stop? He looked at the polished bodywork. Gloved hands don’t leave a mark. He took out a handkerchief and felt under the back wheel arch. Something hard and rectangular was attached at the top of the arc. It came away with a sharp
tug.

  ‘What do you think this is?’ he said, showing it to Trevor.

  ‘At a guess, a tracking device. Maybe we can put it on another car and sting him.’

  Grace had appeared at the back gate. She came up to them.

  ‘This was under your car’s wheel arch,’ Harrigan said. ‘We think it’s a tracking device. Trevor’s suggested we put it on another car and sting the man who tried to kill you.’

  ‘Can I see it?’ she asked

  He handed it to her, still wrapped in his handkerchief. At times like this he wondered what her work really involved. Probably she knew about this kind of technology, who had it and what they did with it.

  ‘It depends on how sophisticated the device is,’ she said, giving it back. ‘These days, some of them are made to send out a warning if they’re disturbed. That means he’ll already know you’ve found it. That device is very new. You might want to test it out first or you’ll just be telling him where you are.’

  ‘Whoever shot at you,’ Harrigan said, ‘wasn’t going to wait to check your rego before he came after you again. He was coming after you as soon as you drove away from here. Why would he want to do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe he thinks I can ID him by his voice.’

  ‘Gracie,’ Trevor said, ‘are you sure Freeman didn’t give you something this person would want?’

  ‘No, but the gunman might have thought that he did.’

  ‘You’re saying he may know we’ve found this device. Is he still going to come after you? Do you need protection? Tell me and we’ll organise it now,’ Harrigan said.

  ‘That’s my choice, isn’t it? No, I don’t need it. I don’t see why he’d come after me now.’

  ‘If you don’t want protection, do you want to be armed?’ Trevor asked. ‘We can organise that, no worries.’

  ‘I can organise it myself. I’ve got a licence to carry a personal firearm.’

  ‘Mate,’ Trevor said, ‘it’s possible this person is our Pittwater killer. Maybe he started with Cassatt and those three other people and now he’s ended up here with Freeman. If you know anything that ties this killer to anyone who got shot up at Pittwater, I need to know about it. Believe me, I don’t want to come and clean you up the way I’m cleaning up Freeman right now.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen.’

  Both Harrigan and Trevor looked at her in silence.

  ‘We’re going to have to impound your car,’ Harrigan said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘We have to, Grace. I’m taking it in.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’ve found that device. Why do you need my car?’

  ‘It has to be checked by Forensics.’

  ‘Paul, you are not taking my car.’

  ‘Grace, we’re not having a private conversation.’

  She looked around to see everyone, including Trevor, staring open-mouthed at the boss’s orders being countermanded.

  ‘All right, take it,’ she said, and walked away to the other side of the lane where she lit a cigarette.

  ‘Right,’ Trevor said, looking the other way. ‘I’ll get this thing bagged.’

  He walked off with the tracking device. Once he’d gone, Harrigan crossed the road to speak to Grace.

  ‘What are you holding back?’ he asked very softly. ‘What have you got that someone wants to track you down like this to get it?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that here. I need to get home. Have they finished with me?’

  ‘Do you want me to check?’

  ‘No, I’ll wait for them to come and tell me.’

  ‘Grace, just tell me. Do you need protection? I’ll get it for you right now.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know—’

  ‘Trevor’s coming,’ she said.

  Trevor joined them and handed Harrigan back his handkerchief.

  ‘Okay, Gracie,’ he said, ‘do you want to go home now? We don’t need you any more. Just for your info, we’re keeping your name out of the media. You were brave, mate. Really brave. If there’s anything else you remember, anything you want to talk about, just pick up the phone. We can talk privately. It’s no big deal. If you do decide you want protection, if the boss here can’t fix it up, then you ring me day or night.’

  ‘Thanks, Trev,’ she said, barely able to frame the words.

  ‘I’ll drive you home,’ Harrigan said. Then to Trevor: ‘You don’t need me any more, do you?’

  ‘No, boss. We’ve got it in hand. I’ll call you with an update tomorrow.’

  ‘Do that.’

  In the car, Harrigan saw tears rolling silently down Grace’s cheeks.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I just need to sit here and cry a little.’

  ‘I’ll get you home.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her cry for the duration of the short journey. His mind went back to the cellar under Freeman’s house and then to the front steps. Images of her shot dead in either place were vivid in his mind. He snuffed them out ruthlessly. He looked at her staring out of the window. Don’t ever do this to me again, whatever else you do.

  Reaching her building, he drove down the ramp into the secure garage in the basement, the security door rolling shut behind them. In the late afternoon no one else was down there, only rows of vacant cars in the cool, concrete cavern. She got out of the car first and stood there wiping her eyes with a tissue.

  ‘Grace.’ Harrigan had to ask, not even stopping to close the car door. ‘What were you doing going to Freeman’s place? He’s scum. Anything could have been waiting for you there. Half a dozen of his mates! Why didn’t you ring me?’

  ‘I did. Your phone was off. He gave me his gun on Bondi beach. He said if I didn’t trust him, I could use it to protect myself.’

  ‘On the beach!’

  ‘It was in a bag.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right then. How did you know he wasn’t setting you up? If you get shot with a gun in your hand, it’s self-defence. Then I live with you dead while Freeman gets his revenge.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that!’ She turned towards him so abruptly he stepped back. ‘I work in this field too. I was there. I made a judgement and it was the right one. You’ve got no business talking to me like this. He gave me these. They’re for you. Take them.’

  One after the other, she took the tape, the CD and the photograph out of her shoulder bag and handed them to him. He took them, pushing the tape into his pocket, tossing the CD onto the driver’s seat through the open door. Then he looked at the photograph.

  ‘Shit,’ he said softly.

  ‘According to Freeman there’s more where that came from, on the CD,’ she said. ‘That tape is from a series of syndicate meetings with him, Cassatt, Morrissey, Baby Tooth and Beck. They met regularly.’

  ‘Beck?’

  ‘That’s right. The tape connects Beck to Life Patent Strategies. Freeman believed that whoever worked Cassatt over did so to find out how much he knew about that connection. Beck took Cassatt down to their laboratory at Campbelltown earlier this year. After that, all hell broke loose.’

  ‘The gunman thinks you have this tape,’ Harrigan said.

  ‘No, he knows I do. It’s one of five. The other four were in a bag on the chair. He took them with him.’

  ‘Grace, you’re in real danger.’

  ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘There are other things you need to know. Today’s gunman is the same person who turned over Freeman’s house. He didn’t find the tape but he did find copies of the photos on the CD. He told me that today when I was in the cellar. He was trying to cajole me into coming out.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have been there.’

  ‘It’s okay. I handled it. According to Freeman, this man must have killed the Ice Cream Man because Cassatt was the only other person who knew this information existed. Also, Sam Jonas was there today. She must have been watching the house and seen me arrive with Freeman. She walked
up to ask me what I was doing there. She knew who I was and that something was going to happen. She drove away and left us there to get shot.’

  ‘Christ,’ Harrigan said, still staring at the photograph. ‘You’ve got to have protection.’

  ‘No. I don’t want people breathing down my neck. Look, for all the gunman knows, I’ve given this tape to the police or to you. Which I have. Why would he think I’ve kept it? If he was going to try and get to me, it would be to ask that single question: where is it?’

  Harrigan tossed the picture onto the car seat and almost slammed the door. ‘Why did you put yourself in danger like that? Why didn’t you tell Freeman to wait until you could get in touch with me?’

  ‘He was dying.’

  ‘He was scum!’

  ‘I can’t call him scum, not now. He saved my life,’ she said.

  ‘I’m supposed to feel grateful to the man who almost killed me! Grace, you have to come back to my place. If you won’t have protection, I’ve got to keep you safe.’

  ‘I can look after myself here.’

  ‘You don’t have a gun. I’ve got one I can give you,’ he said, his tone heated.

  ‘I don’t need a gun from you.’

  ‘Why? Have you got one? I didn’t think you did.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ she said angrily, looking away.

  Harrigan hated guns; he always had, despite the fact that his work revolved around them and he had carried them often enough. Nothing filled him with more contempt than the sight of new officers—men or women—whose egos swelled as soon as they put on their firearms for the first time. It disturbed him to think she might have a gun when he didn’t know about it.

  ‘I’ve got to listen to this tape,’ he said. ‘Come back with me. We’ll be safer together.’

  ‘Then I’ll be stranded. I don’t have my car. You’ve taken it in. The police garage will keep it from here till eternity.’

  ‘I had to do that. You know that.’ Suddenly Harrigan was angry as well. ‘You shouldn’t have spoken to me like that in front of my people. It looked bad.’

  ‘Can’t you handle it? Not everyone jumps when you say jump.’ She turned to him. He couldn’t recall the last time she’d looked so angry. ‘I knew what I was doing today. I’m a professional. I trusted my judgement and I was right to do so. I have the training to deal with that situation and I did deal with it.’