2.00 a.m. Thursday, 29th October 1965

A marked police car pulled up outside the front of Cardilini’s house. Light was in every window and spilled through the open front door. Two constables climbed from the car and stood conferring before walking up the driveway. They called out at the front door several times without response. One constable left the porch to walk around the side of the house while the other entered. They both arrived at the backyard at the same time.

There Cardilini, still in his work clothes, mumbling and cursing to himself, was turning the earth with a spade in what might’ve once been garden beds. Covered in dirt and sweat, he wiped his eyes with his forearm and plunged the spade into the dirt, pushing the spade deep before turning the sod and moving to the next spot.

‘Detective Sergeant Cardilini. Sir. Detective Cardilini.’

Cardilini looked up. ‘Fuck off.’

‘Sir. You must stop. Complaints have been made.’

‘Fuck ’em. Fuck ’em.’

‘Please, sir. Please. Detective Sergeant Cardilini.’

‘Who the fuck are you? I don’t know you.’

‘We’re from East Perth. Can we go inside?’

‘No, you can fuck off.’

‘Would you come with us, please, sir?’

‘No. I left off doing this for twelve months. I’m not going to stop now. I’m not going to stop. I’ve got to get it done.’ Cardilini continued his digging.

The constables conferred quietly then asked, ‘Can we help?’

Cardilini stopped digging and turned to view what he had completed. He started laughing to himself and staggered backwards, ‘You idiot. Done the wrong bit.’ He collapsed onto his backside holding the spade to stop himself from toppling further. ‘Look,’ he pointed to the constables, ‘that’s supposed to be lawn. Betty’s going to . . .’ Cardilini paused and squeezed his eyes closed.

‘Sir. Would you come inside, please?’

Cardilini tried to focus on their faces, ‘Oh yeah, you’re at East Perth. You’re Salt’s mates, eh?’

‘Yes, sir, Fowler and Riley.’

‘Yeah. So what do you want?’

‘It’s after two in the morning.’

‘Oh, yeah. Okay. Well. A bit noisy, eh?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Someone rang up?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good boys. Good boys. Yeah. I might go and lie down.’

Cardilini had trouble rising so the constables assisted him to stand then they walked together up the back verandah stairs. At the back door Cardilini stopped and indicated he was fine to walk. The constables stood back.

‘I might have a shower. Make yourself a cup of tea, boys.’

‘Shall we sit in the kitchen while you shower, sir? We’ll put the kettle on.’

‘Yeah,’ Cardilini stood still at the back door, ‘No. I might lie down for a bit.’ He turned to a large timber-framed couch that sat on the verandah facing the backyard and settled himself full length, his head on one armrest and his feet on the other.

The constables stood watching for a few minutes.

‘What do you think?’ one asked.

‘He’s asleep.’

‘Might as well have a cup of tea.’