that may turn up something. A man who was in the shop from where the shot was fired, he was there twice this past week admiring the view from the window. Weâre trying to trace him. I expect to hear from Fingerprints this morning if heâs got any record.â
âHave you started questioning anyone yet?â
A few loose words slipped out: âMacquarie Street, sir? Sussex Street?â
âOh Gawd,â said Charlie Hassett and six other Assistant Commissioners gave him silent echo.
Commissioner Zanuch was not entirely humourless. âInspector Malone, let us fear not to tread, but nonetheless, let us tread. Carefully, if you can.â
âYes, sir.â Malone felt every eye in the room was on him. âI think Iâd rather be in Tibooburra.â The back of beyond in the Service.
âWouldnât we all.â
The Commissioner was enjoying the situation; over the next few days his Police Service would be the power in the land. The Government would be fighting its war of succession; the Opposition, seeking backs to stab, suddenly looked up and saw opportunity on the other side of the Assembly. Murder creates a vacuum, no matter how small and for how short a time. The vacuum now was large and Commissioner Zanuch stepped into it, secure that he was the tenant by right.
âStrike force will be set up, unlimited personnel. Call in all the men you want,â he told Hassett.
âWhat about us?â asked the Assistant Commissioner, Commander Administration, and all his colleagues nodded.
â Weâre united on this,â said Zanuch. âA team. This is politicalâor itâs going to be. I presume youâve all got your political contacts?â
All the Assistant Commissioners looked at each other before they all nodded. None of them had achieved his rank by virgin birth. The net of political contacts in the room could have strangled a purer democracy than that of the State in which they served. They were honest men but they knew from long experience that honesty was a workable policy, not necessarily the best.
âWork those contacts. If you come up with anything, pass it on to Charlie. What shall we call the task force? We have to give it a name for the mediaâthey love labels. They donât know how to handle anything thatâs anonymous.â
âHow about Gold Medal?â The Assistant Commissioner, VIP Security Services, was a humourist, sour as a lemon. With VIPs, a breed that never diminished, it was difficult to be good-humoured.
âThat will only rile the Opposition,â said the Assistant Commissioner, Internal Affairs. âThey could be our bosses in two months.â
âLetâs be brutal,â said the Commissioner. âWeâll call it Nemesis.â
âThe TV reporters will ask us what that means.â
âTell âem it means their channel bosses,â said Charlie Hassett and everyone laughed.
The meeting rolled on and at last Random and Malone were released. They said nothing to each other as they went down in the lift, but as they walked out into the glare of the January day Random said sombrely and unexpectedly, âWeâll miss The Dutchman.â
Malone looked across the street to Hyde Park, where old men played chess and draughts on tables beneath trees. Kibitzers stood behind them, offering advice, like retired minders. Hans Vanderberg had gone before retirement had consigned him to a bench somewhere, playing old games in his mind, surrounded by ghosts he had defeated with every move.
âWhere will you set up the Incident Room?â
âAt Police Centre. Iâll move in there, you report to me direct. Where are you going to start?â
â I donât know, depends what they have for me when I get back to the office.â He sighed. âWouldnât it be nice to be on holiday right now? Walking the streets of Helsinki.â
âWhy Helsinki?â
âCan you
Sophia Johnson
Kimberly Claire
Payge Galvin, Meg Chance
Greg Gutfeld
Richard Newsome
T. Michael Martin
Stephanie Laurens, Victoria Alexander, Rachel Gibson
Patricia Wentworth
Terry Deary
John Julius Norwich