‘Disappointed!’ Robinson checked the passageway. Content that Paul had gone he turned on Cardilini and said reasonably, ‘He’s disappointed he’s got a drunken, fat-gut slob for a father. But he’s man enough to still give you credit, still stick by you. Any other son would have walked out months ago. Wake up. You’ve been a bloody drunk the last year. I sat with the boy at the East Perth lockup because you were too drunk to get off your arse. You’ve been given space because of Betty. Now is the time to do some police work and stop feeling sorry for yourself. And I’ve changed my mind, you’re not to spend any time in the pub while on duty because you can’t handle it. You muck this up and you can say goodbye to your career and Paul can forget about the intake. Have you got that into your bloody head?’ Robinson was finished and, not waiting for an answer, strode out the door.

Cardilini threw open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of beer and then fumbled so violently for an opener he emptied the contents of the cutlery drawer onto the floor. He slammed the bottle on the table unopened and stormed out of the house.

FIFTEEN

Day 4

Kilkenny Road

6.12 a.m. Wednesday, 28th October 1965

Cardilini smoked several cigarettes sitting on the back step. An overcast morning sky hung above him like a sentence. The day hadn’t warmed up, yet beads of perspiration spotted his face and arms. While smoking, Cardilini kept running his free hand through his hair unconsciously. He flicked his cigarette butt towards a withered garden bed then walked over and pushed it and a number of other discarded butts into the soil.

He turned and observed Paul standing on the back verandah watching him. They stood looking at one other until Paul turned and entered the house.

‘Do you want breakfast?’ Cardilini called, following him in.

‘Yeah. Show me how you prepare it.’

Cardilini put a box of cereal on the table. They both looked at it.

‘Do you eat cereal?’ Cardilini asked.

‘No.’

‘I thought that box lasted a long time,’ Cardilini pondered as he put the box away. ‘What do you eat?’

‘I make bacon and eggs. Just like Mum.’

‘Oh, yeah.’

‘Shall I make some?’

‘Sure.’

‘For you, too?’

‘No. I couldn’t. Not this morning,’ Cardilini replied. ‘I’ll make some tea.’

*

Cardilini climbed into the Chief Inspector-grade car without speaking to Salt. He immediately felt confined.

‘Where to, sir?’ Salt asked after a pause.

‘What’ve you been told?’

‘The superintendent said to tell you that the principal, Dr Braun, would be expecting us this morning.’

‘Oh, great,’ Cardilini said and tapped out a cigarette.

‘And to act as your driver and take notes.’

‘And if I ask you not to take notes?’

‘It would be better if you sent me away at those times,’ Salt proposed.

‘Who’s instructing you?’

‘Superintendent Robinson.’

‘Why do they want you in on this?’