The Family Cleaner, page 14
“No, the ammo shattered on impact, probably homemade. And the shooter collected the casings.”
“Same as Geelong, all the slugs shattered on impact. And whoever shot them enjoyed it a bit too much, he made sure they hurt,” Prosser said.
“Let’s get back to the Chisholm family,” Kleinberg said. “You all need to share your files on those other cases, it feels like there’s a link. Just before we move on though, Smyth, have you spoken to the Brisbane people about that murdered ex-army officer.”
“I spoke with them last week. They said he was executed with a rifle, a bit like John’s vics. Knee shot out, shoulder wound, then a single shot in the face,” Smyth said.
“Carter was a sniper,” Prosser said. “He was his division champion.”
“This just gets better and better,” Brownsill said.
“DS Brownsill, did we get anything from the interview, or did his lawyer muzzle him completely?” Kleinberg asked.
“He just confirmed the facts we already had. He gave us nothing on the Perth timing other than to say he was there and down south for the week. The only confirmation we have on that is his phone pinging off several towers in the area and some CCTV footage from the airport car rental area and from a fuel station that might be him or might not. We gave him the dates and told him to come back, but nothing yet.”
“That just means his phone was there,” Prosser said.
“Send me that CCTV footage,” Kleinberg said. “I want to see if someone in Melbourne can take a closer look at it. All right, everyone, I believe we’re making progress, we have a lot in the frame, so let’s stay focused.”
“Sir, just one more point,” Smyth said. “Whoever did the shootings in Geelong and Brisbane didn’t bother about leaving bodies but if the Chisholm’s are dead, someone has gone to some effort to hide them. Doesn’t that seem just a bit odd? In terms of it being the same person involved.”
“Yes, it does,” Kleinberg said. “Indeed, the more I think about it, the more it has me scratching my head.”
No one spoke for a while. Brownsill scribbled a note and slid it over the table to Kleinberg: We must tell them.
“Can I ask everyone who is not a lead to please leave the call?” Kleinberg said.
He waited for the callers to drop out.
“May I confirm that the only people left on this call are DS Brownsill, Smyth, Prosser, and Jacobsen?”
Each person confirmed.
“What I am going to tell you now is to be shared with no one, is that abundantly clear?”
“We understand, sir,” Prosser said.
“We found the bodies of the missing Bendigo people five days ago. We should have told you earlier, but Brownsill and I are trying to build a strategy and we can’t do that if there is any risk it leaks and we have reporters crawling all over us. We’re going to have to come clean soon, but for now, sit on this. We don’t want to scare off our main target.”
“What was the scene like, sir?” Prosser asked.
“Horrific. The males, Graham and Kevin Chisholm died very painfully. Mrs Mary Chisholm appears to have been forced to watch. The wounds were of a sexual nature and inflicted while the victims were alive. So, mum’s the word, for now. I’ll give you a heads-up when we’re going to release details.”
Bendigo Police Station, 27th September 2018
Brownsill leaned on the coffee machine waiting for the young constable who seemed to be taking a long time over what was supposed to be a simple process.
“You know they design these things so it’s easy, put in a pod, press the button, that’s it”.
“Sorry, Sarg, I have a long macchiato and that’s a two-step process.”
Brownsill heard his phone ringing in his office.
“Of course you do; hurry along, Aaron, some of us have work to do.”
Brownsill trudged back to his office, flipped his phone over and saw a missed call from the inspector.
“What revelation have you got for me today?” he said as he retrieved the voicemail.
“DS, it’s Kleinberg. When you get this message, please call me. The people I passed that CCTV onto found something. It may not be our man. I called Mary-Anne, she has something interesting as well.”
Brownsill suppressed his annoyance at the intrusion of Kleinberg into what he considered was his investigation and made the call.
“Morning, sir, it’s Brownsill. Got your message. Before we get into the details, I was out at the crime scene yesterday. We have a nosey reporter from the local TV station asking questions about what’s happening.”
“What do they know?” Kleinberg said.
“Forensics weren’t that secretive about being in town, and the receptionist at the motel where they stayed is dating the reporter. He put two and two together and hung around the carpark till the team went to the house. I don’t think he knows anything but I am guessing he is wondering what a forensic team is doing here.”
“Just keep denying. I have two bits of news. The video people compared footage of Carter taken by Prosser’s team a while ago with the Perth footage. They believe it’s a close match, but they are sure it’s not the same person. It might not stand up in court, but it does create a bit of doubt.”
“All we need is a bit of doubt to poke a hole in his alibi, sir,” Brownsill said.
“Exactly! In even better news, Mary-Anne found a single set of prints under a table in the cellar. Unidentifiable at this stage, but she’s sent them off to all the databases to get a match.”
“Looks like we’re getting some breaks, Inspector,” Brownsill said.
“Anything else, DS?”
“I was thinking we need to get someone talking to Jessica Chisholm. She’s the missing link in this. If we assume this is Carter’s vendetta against the Chisholm’s’, why is she running around unscathed and, on the surface of it, not worried?”
“Maybe he’s just targeting the uncle and aunt and the boys. Didn’t Carter suggest Jessica was kind to him?” Kleinberg said.
“Yes. So maybe she can shed some light on this. If I were her, I’d be a bit anxious knowing my family has disappeared.”
“Seems they aren’t close. But it’s worth a follow-up, I think. Leave that with me, I’ll make a call.”
Chapter 16
Brisbane Ranges National Park, 28th September 2018
David checked his left-wing mirror as he excited the M1 onto Ballarat Road. Two vehicles back, a black SUV sporting a huge chrome bumper was attempting to hide. He’d seen the SUV when he left Café Greek, and here it was again.
These guys are either completely dumb or extremely confident tailing me in that. You might as well have a neon sign.
He skipped the exit and drove on.
He doubled back several times and lost the tail. He then followed a dusty old bush track towards the plantation to be sure he was alone.
David covered the Four-wheel drive with a camouflage netting and branches, then he picked his way around the telltales and trips he and Pav always had set; tripping one as he neared the plantation.
“Careless, David, you tripped the last one,” Pav said.
“Just to keep you on your toes, mate,” he replied and slapped Pav on the back.
“Was expecting you before.”
“I had to double back several times. There was a black SUV following me.”
“I need to do same, black SUV also followed me. Trouble?”
“Did you get a number?” David said.
“No, hung back too far.”
“If we’re both seeing the same SUV, maybe someone has made a connection. I don’t think the cops would have linked us but keep your eyes open. The crop looks in good shape so we might need to move the harvest up a bit.”
“Weather very fine, plants happy.”
“If the plants are happy then we’re happy, right, mate? Anyway, I need to get away for a while. I’m worried this attention from the cops might lead to them tumbling onto the plantation and our other activities.”
They worked for four hours and then settled in for the night.
Pav handed David a beer. “Cops following or others, you think?”
“I was hoping it’s the cops, ’cause if it’s not it means we have someone trying to get into our patch. But not in that SUV. I think I picked up a couple of unmarked units following me when I am around home.”
“What then you do?” Pav asked.
“If you’re okay to handle things, I think I’ll do a little disappearing act. Up to Kakadu or Cooktown, somewhere I can vanish for, say, three months.”
“Cops will go nuts.”
“I know, but I’ve thought about it. I don’t want to rev them up, but the risk of them tumbling onto this is too high. You’ve got this covered, haven’t you?”
“Da, sure. Might need help with the powder.”
David thought about the problem of distributing cocaine. “I wonder if it’s worth the trouble, you know. We make heaps out of it, but it seems to bring a whole new level of risk.”
Pav nodded.
“We have a drop next week. I’ll stay and help with that, then go. Deal?”
“Da.”
Geelong, 4th October 2018
David headed to the Geelong storage unit and swapped vehicles, opting for the bigger four-wheel drive over the ute. With Frank in his customary position, he headed north; his goal was to disappear, his strategy to be made up as he went. He camped for the first few days, so there’d be no chance of a camera picking him up. The only risk was fuel stops, but with the extra tank fitted, he had twelve hundred kilometres before he needed to do that. Five days after he left, he drove into Kakadu National Park.
He called Pav on the sat phone.
“How’s it going, Pav, did you get all the product delivered?”
“All good, David, all good. Where are you?”
“A long way away. Any news?”
“TV news says cops looking for you, need help finding ute.”
“Bugger, I was hoping it wouldn’t get to that. They don’t know what I’m driving, so that will help.”
“Da.”
“Okay, mate, I’ll be off air for a while.”
“Might need more powder.”
“I’ll call in some more.”
He ended the call and ruffled Frank’s ears. “Frankie boy, I think I’m in a bit of trouble.
Bendigo Police Station, 4th October 2018
Brownsill looked up from the desk he had to sit at when Kleinberg was in Bendigo just as the inspector hooked a finger at him, gesturing him into the office.
“Sir,” Brownsill said, as he entered his office.
“DS, I have an officer from New South Wales about to call regarding Jessica Chisholm. I thought you should listen in.”
Brownsill pulled out his visitor chair and sat.
“Kleinberg,” the inspector answered when the phone rang and pressed the speaker button.
“Good morning, it’s DS Lauren Jefferson, Balmain station, the boss says you need an update.”
“Good morning, Jefferson, you have Inspector Kleinberg from Melbourne Central and with me is DS Brownsill from Bendigo.”
“Hi, gents. We’ve spoken with Ms Chisholm four times now. Initially about the disappearance of her parents, and then about her brother in Canberra. We were trying to establish if she had anything that might assist.”
“Did she?”
“She said she was concerned but had nothing to offer. Didn’t seem worried about her safety.”
“What’s her story?” Kleinberg asked.
“You mean her background?”
“Yes, briefly.”
“She’s a forensic scientist with a rep for being a tough nut. She’s been with the forensic services for about five years, from memory. From what I know, a bit of a star in the service. Her wife is Samantha Martin. Can’t recall what she does, but I can check for you. We offered a security review with a view to protection if needed, but she refused until the sibling in Queensland disappeared. She agreed to it after that.”
“I bet she agreed. I’d be looking over my shoulder,” Kleinberg said. “Thanks for the update, if I need anything else I’ll be in touch. We have a weekly video call with each of the districts if you want to jump on them. I’ll have DS Brownsill send you the details,” he said and ended the call.
Brownsill rankled at being used as Kleinberg’s assistant.
“Do we have anything new? I feel like the investigation is running out of steam again,” Kleinberg said.
“DS Smyth told me that they have no trace of Jake’s vehicle. He and his ute have simply vanished.”
“People and utes don’t disappear; we just can’t find them. I take it they still haven’t found the one in Canberra either?”
“Not that I’ve heard.”
“Are these guys even trying? We need another break soon,” Kleinberg said.
“I think they are, sir, but they’re just hitting brick walls. There’s a distinct lack of material to work with.”
“I thought we’d get more once we found the bodies in Bendigo. We didn’t get enough from the forensics. I might get Mary-Anne to have another look.”
“Good luck with that, sir, you said she bites.”
Kleinberg looked at Brownsill. “So this is our situation summary. Despite all the time and resources, we appear to be treading water. At this stage, we have the mother, father, and one son dead in a sealed cellar and the only forensics is one set of unidentified fingerprints. The guys we thought were in the frame turned out to be not involved. Two other siblings are missing along with their vehicles. And we have one sister alive and well in Sydney, who either doesn’t know or doesn’t care about what might have occurred. The only suspect is the estranged nephew and cousin, who couldn’t give a rats about the fate of his relatives.”
“That’s about it. We should get someone to come in and look at the files, sir,” Brownsill said.
Kleinberg glowered at the DS. “Not funny, Detective Sergeant. Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit and insubordination is not what I would expect from a seasoned officer. Anyway, we’re late for our call. And before I forget, chase up Thompson about those prints. We need to tie that down.”
Brownsill followed the inspector into the conference room secretly cursing himself for prodding him.
The others were chatting when they joined the call.
“Let’s get on with your reports, I don’t have all day,” Kleinberg said.
Five minutes after the start, Smyth joined the meeting. “Sorry, everyone.”
“Nice of you to join us, DS, hope it was important,” Kleinberg said.
“What, sir?”
“Whatever it was that prevented you from joining us on time.”
Brownsill’s phone vibrated silently, a message from Prosser. What’s wrong with him today?
The inspector looked at Brownsill. “Anything important?”
“No, sir, sorry, I’ll turn it off.”
“As I was saying, we just aren’t getting enough progress on this investigation. You each need to redouble the effort.”
A phone rang.
“Whoever belongs to that might as well take it since we all seem to have forgotten protocol regarding phones in meetings.”
“Sorry, sir, that’s mine,” Prosser said. “I’ve been waiting on some information.”
“Take it. Might be good news for a change.”
They waited, listening while Prosser grunted and said ‘yes’ a few times, then ended the call.
“Not good news, but bloody interesting. We’ve had the locals at Lorne keeping an eye on Carter. Not a hard watch, they check on him now and then. The occasional tail but not tight. Anyway, they haven’t seen hide nor hair of him for a week. His place is locked up, his ute’s not in the drive.”
“Good work, DS, good initiative,” Kleinberg said.
“He may have gone surfing again. He seems to do that at the drop of a hat,” Brownsill said.
“And one other thing,” Prosser continued, “the last time they sighted him, he was being followed.”
“Do we know who?” Kleinberg said.
“According to the officers, some very nasty types in a black SUV.”
The call went silent.
“I’ll keep them looking,” Prosser said. “For now, he’s not around town, not at his house, and not at any of the local beaches he frequents.”
“Sir,” Smyth said, “I think this guy is toying with us. He comes and goes at will. He’s missing when these events happen, but we can’t tie him to them. He may or may not be in the frame. I’m warming to John’s view, there’s something distinctly off with this character.”
“Can we get electronic surveillance on him, his phone, his vehicle?” Brownsill said. “If we could find out where he goes ...”
“We’d need to get that approved. Let me see what I can arrange,” Kleinberg said.
“I’m intrigued with Jessica Chisholm as well,” Kleinberg said. “We spoke with a DS from Sydney who’s been dealing with her, but we need more detail. I might get them to press a bit harder.”
Smyth said, “We’ve had no progress on the Brisbane shooting. My liaison down there says the crime scene was clean, no shells. All they know is the guy was shot at a close range with a rifle, and no weapon like that has been used in any of their other recent unsolved cases.”
“Two parallel crimes occurring with roughly the same timelines,” Kleinberg said. “Different MOs, one involving firearms and the other knives. Don’t we all usually work on the basis that perpetrators stick with an MO?”
“Are we saying the crimes are connected, or the perpetrator?” Johnson said.
“Leave that thought with me,” Kleinberg said.
“Sir, do we have enough to put out an ‘All Points’ on Carter?” Prosser asked.
“Not sure, but at the very least we should put out a national alert for his vehicle. I’ll consult regarding the APB and the surveillance suggestion. Okay, let’s end it here, and I apologise for my frustration. It’s not professional, but this case or cases or whatever we have is very tricky.”
