Cardilini, with a glance to his son, nodded. Carmody and Burnside exchanged expressions.

‘John was ultimately expelled for refusing to retract his accusations,’ Carmody said.

‘So I heard.’

Carmody and Burnside appeared hesitant.

‘We were wondering if you believed John’s story?’ Carmody asked.

‘What story, Dad?’ Paul asked.

‘It’s a case I can’t discuss yet. Sorry, son. Carmody, Burnside, do you believe him?’

Again they hesitated. Carmody took a deep breath and exhaled.

‘No, sir.’

Cardilini leant back in his armchair and studied the boys. Why was it so important they came here to tell me this? Their faces, so intent, so filled with purpose. He knew he did believe Mrs Lockheed, because she believed it, but he also knew that what she believed could be wrong, and very likely it was.

‘So why would John make up such a story?’

Carmody and Burnside looked at each other and, turning back in unison, shook their heads. Cardilini was now convinced they were lying. But why? What do they know? Who are they protecting?

‘Why are you so keen for me to disbelieve him?’ Neither replied. ‘Well?’

‘Your interference is unnecessary, we know Superintendent Robinson completed a thorough investigation,’ Burnside said.

Cardilini shrugged noncommittally.

‘Were you on the Eric Edgar Cooke case? Hanged last year?’ Carmody asked.

Burnside looked sharply at Carmody.

‘Yes,’ Cardilini answered taking in Burnside’s reaction.

‘What were your feelings about his execution?’ Carmody asked and received another sharp look from Burnside. Cardilini sat looking at Carmody, Carmody met his gaze.

‘Time to go boys. Don’t come here again,’ Cardilini stood. ‘That’s official.’

Paul turned in surprise to his father.

Cardilini continued, ‘I’m not sure what you think you’re playing at but this isn’t a game. A man’s death isn’t a game.’

‘We agree with you, sir,’ Carmody stated as he and Burnside stood.

Cardilini shook his head and walked to the front door, which he opened. Carmody and Burnside shook Paul’s hand again and left with nods to Cardilini.

Carmody stopped abruptly on the porch and turned, ‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t trouble Mrs Lockheed any further.’

Anger rose in Cardilini’s chest. He shut the door firmly on the boys.

‘What was that?’ Paul asked.

‘Arrogant little pricks.’

‘What? Dad?’

‘The bloody gall. The bloody gall. That boy just invited a shit storm.’

‘What? They seemed fine.’

‘Stay out of this, son. You wouldn’t understand.’

‘I wouldn’t, but two schoolboys would?’

‘That’s enough. I’ve got to think,’ Cardilini left Paul and went to the kitchen. Before he realised it, he’d poured himself a beer.

‘I thought you weren’t drinking.’

‘I’m not. I don’t need you telling me what to do. I get enough of that everywhere else.’ To prove his point he drunk the glass down and poured another.

‘Don’t do that here. Go to the bloody pub.’

‘I’ll do what I bloody like,’ Cardilini thundered.

‘Drunk,’ Paul spat out and turned away.

When the front door slammed, Cardilini bellowed, ‘Good riddance.’

Day 5

Kilkenny Road