Cardilini nodded and picked up the two cups from the boundary wall.

*

Approaching the East Perth police station Cardilini saw Salt standing on the steps watching him.

‘Salt,’ Cardilini said as he went up the steps.

‘Sir, I know everything that happened and . . .’

‘That doesn’t surprise me.’

‘. . . everyone, Leggett, Carmody, everyone owes you and have told me so.’

Cardilini stopped walking and, looking doubtful, turned to Salt. He started to speak then changed his mind, sighed and shook his head before walking on. ‘The police work could have been better on that one, Salt,’ he said.

‘If you say, sir. And I should have told you from the beginning I was reporting to Superintendent Robinson.’

‘Didn’t Robinson order you not to?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You couldn’t go against that,’ Cardilini said continuing walking.

‘But I feel I let you down. Sir, I don’t want to be the copper others don’t trust . . .’ Salt said earnestly, Cardilini turned to him, Salt continued, ‘. . . but I’m not sure how to go about it now, maybe, I should just . . .’

‘Going to university next year, aren’t you?’ Cardilini interrupting asked.

‘Yes, if . . .’

‘Make a good job of it. And come by to have a chat occasionally. That’s an order,’ Cardilini said firmly.

‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’

Cardilini nodded and walked through the entrance.

Fifty-Eight

FIFTY-EIGHT

‘Son.’

‘Dad.’

‘Tell me?’

Mr and Mrs Harper stood in the lounge of their farmhouse in Wongan Hills. They held the phone receiver between them. It was eight o’clock of the same evening Cardilini received his call from Robinson. Sundays, the boarders were allowed to ring home.

‘He was a third former,’ their elder son said.

‘A third former!’ The father looked to his wife.

‘What will happen?’ the mother asked her son.

‘The sixth formers broke it up. Carmody and Mohr were there. They didn’t even tell him off.’

‘But they told Abbott?’ the father asked.

‘No.’

‘They didn’t tell the boarding master,’ Mr Harper said to his wife.

‘What does that mean?’ she asked.

‘It means he won’t get into trouble,’ her husband replied.

‘Was he hurt?’ she asked into the mouthpiece.

‘No. Binder didn’t land a punch.’

‘Who’s Binder?’ she asked looking to her husband.

‘The third former, Binder’s a real ratbag,’ the son answered.

‘The boy he fought is a real ratbag,’ the husband repeated to his wife.

‘I don’t like him fighting, he’s too little,’ the mother said. A tear caught in her eyelash and she pushed at it impatiently. Another took its place.

‘It’s all right, isn’t it, son? He had to fight the boy. Isn’t that right, son?’

‘Everyone’s happy he did and Binder won’t do anything back, he got a big scare,’ their son said.

‘A big scare,’ the father repeated.

‘And how is he now?’ the mother asked.