Lugarno by Peter Corris Page B

and went the whole hog, adding milk and sugar and taking a fair gulp. ‘OK, we’ll play it your way for a bit. Mr Jorgensen’s body was taken out of the Georges River late last night, strangled and battered.’
    â€˜Where?’
    â€˜At Lugarno, around there. The body wasweighed down by a set of golf clubs.’
    â€˜I don’t believe you.’
    â€˜It’s true. A full set of clubs with a top quality bag and all the shit they pack in—balls, towels, drink bottle, wet weather gear, shoes and Christ knows what else—and you’re up to around thirty kilos. The bag was tied to the body with thick cord. Fills up nicely with water. Would’ve worked okay except that a houseboat came along, anchored for a bit, pulled up the anchor and snagged the bundle. A ferry used to run from there and they hauled the body and the bag up onto the dock.’
    â€˜The best laid plans,’ I said.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Never mind. When d’you calculate he was killed?’
    â€˜Haven’t got that information as yet.’
    â€˜And you wouldn’t tell me if you had because you want me to account for my movements from the time I met him to, let’s say, an hour before they found the body.’
    â€˜You’re paranoid. I checked up on you before coming here. I don’t think you go around killing people. Not that you haven’t killed a couple.’
    â€˜Self defence.’
    â€˜Yeah. What I want you to tell me is why you saw Jorgensen yesterday, where and when.’
    I drank some more coffee. ‘Get out your notebook. The where and when is easy. It was at the Milperra Golf Course, mid-morning. He was practising some shot or other. We talked and I gave him my card. He stuck it in the pocket they havein those shirts.’ I touched my chest on the left, high up.
    He made a note. ‘OK, but what did you talk about?’
    I sighed as I drained the mug. I got up and went to the stove for a re-fill and to buy time to think. I was in a bind. My client was expecting to negotiate with the police prosecutor and if I spoke about the matter he could probably kiss that hope goodbye. And I could do the same with the case. Couldn’t do it.
    I came back to the bench with my coffee and lifted it in an inquiring gesture. He shook his head, all business.
    â€˜I can’t tell you what we talked about. It concerns a client and his affairs and in my business that’s the bottom line.’
    â€˜I see. Do you have any reason to believe that your … business could be related to Mr Jorgensen’s murder?’
    Nicely put,
I thought. Of course my head was buzzing with just that possibility. Had my talking to Jason put him in the river? Not a comfortable thought. I tried to keep both face and voice neutral. ‘I’d be lying if I said no. Truth is, I just don’t know. And I’m very sorry. He seemed like a decent kid.’
    He snapped the notebook closed and stood up. ‘I’m not so sure about that from what we’ve heard, but I won’t give you any more than you’ve given me which is not fuckin’ much.’
    Tough now, but not all that convincing. I didn’t respond.
    He put the notebook away. ‘Thanks for thecoffee. I think you’d better talk to your client. Unless we make some progress on this pretty soon we’ll have to circle back to you as one of the last people to see him alive and that’ll mean more pressure than a chat over a cup of coffee.’
    I nodded and shepherded him down the hall to the door. Before he left he handed me his card, not without an ironical twitch.
    I flicked it with a finger. ‘I’ll make sure to keep it on me at all times of the day and night. I’ll tell you something, Stankowski. Whoever strangled that kid would have to be strong. He was as athletic as hell and big with it.’
    He went through the door and turned back before he stepped carefully across the lifting