The Tattooed Man Read Free Page A

he couldn’t speak. Harrigan gave the phone to Trevor and waited for the senator to become calm.
    ‘We’ll trace that call, Minister, wherever it might have come from,’ he said. ‘Who would have the number for that phone?’
    ‘A dozen people at the most. Julian was one. There are things I need to tell you about this. They’re important but I can’t get a grip on the facts—’
    Again, he was about to break down. Harrigan signalled to a uniformed police officer.
    ‘I think you should go home now, Minister. My people will be in touch and arrange to see you at another time. This is my card. You can call me on any of those numbers any time you need to. This officer will help you to your car.’
    Edwards dumbly pushed the card into his pocket and stood up. The dog got to her feet as well.
    ‘I’m taking Matilda with me. She needs a home now. I’m not usually like this, I can assure you.’
    ‘It’s not a problem,’ Harrigan replied. ‘I have a son myself.’
    ‘Is he your only child?’
    ‘Yes, he is.’
    ‘How old is he?’
    ‘He turned eighteen today,’ Harrigan said, restraining his usual reluctance at voicing anything personal.
    ‘Maybe you do know. I’ll never understand how anyone could do this.’
    After seventeen years on the job, Harrigan was forced to admit, if only to himself, that he didn’t always understand either. Even after he’d joined the dots of how and why, some fundamental motivation continued to escape him. They watched the senator being driven away, caught a glimpse of the waiting media on the other side of the high metal gates, the cameras flashing and the TV crews running in pursuit of the white car after it had turned into the street.
    ‘Our killers wanted him to see that,’ Trevor said. ‘Why would you do that? It’s fucking cruel.’
    ‘Our killers believe in shock value,’ Harrigan replied, dispassionate as always. ‘All right, I’ll leave you to it. You’ve got it under control. But from now on, you forget I’m on leave. If the Ice Cream Man’s involved in this, I need to know where it’s going. At all times, I want you to keep me briefed.’
    ‘I can do that, boss, but there’s one other thing before you disappear. Ambrosine. Is she alive? And where is she? If the Ice Cream Man’s dead in there, we should be talking to her.’
    ‘You want to know where Ambro is?’ Harrigan said. ‘Walls have ears, mate. Is that information going to travel?’
    ‘I would have thought you’d know you could trust me by now,’ Trevor replied, with a quiet touch of anger.
    ‘I told you she was alive. I must trust you.’ Harrigan gathered his thoughts. ‘Yes, I know where she is. I spoke to her when we upgraded Cassatt’s disappearance to murder but she was freaked over something. She wouldn’t talk to me. She said she hadn’t seen him for months.’
    ‘Did you believe her?’
    ‘No, but she wasn’t going to tell me any different.’
    ‘Can’t she come out of hiding now?’ Trevor asked. ‘Tell me where she is and I’ll send a team to talk to her.’
    ‘No. There’s still one very angry bikie out there waiting to blow her away. I’ll have to talk to her myself. I need time for that to happen. As soon as I get anything out of her, I’ll talk to you. Right now, I’ve got places I should be.’
    ‘Okay, boss. Thanks for coming all the way up here. Say hello to Gracie for me when you see her. I haven’t caught up with her much since she started working for that joint agencies task force, whatever it is.’
    ‘I’ll pass it on,’ he said. If she’s still talking to me.
    Harrigan had given his spiel to the media scrum on the front street not long after he’d first arrived, as usual stonewalling them before he’d gone to take in the murder scene in more detail. Tonight his image would be broadcast on the evening news bulletins whether he liked it or not. Avoiding a second encounter, he made his escape through a rear gate out to the laneway where he’d