Back Man at the Window Save as PDF

‘Take a seat, gentlemen,’ the sergeant said and he walked to the chair behind the desk and sat.

Cardilini looked at the chairs’ uniformly small bases with torturous arched-cane backing.

‘Will we be waiting long?’ he asked.

‘Difficult to say.’

‘Try.’

‘It’s not up to me to say.’

‘What’s not up to you to say?’

‘How long you’ll be waiting.’

‘Who’s it up to?’

‘The captain.’

‘Where’s he?’

The sergeant looked back mutely.

‘In there?’ Cardilini headed towards the door behind the desk. The sergeant stood and stepped in front of him.

‘Back off. Go to your chair,’ he ordered.

‘Or what?’

‘Back off.’ The sergeant braced himself.

Cardilini tried to sidestep but the sergeant matched him, swiftly blocking Cardilini’s way.

‘Very well, tell your boss I’m here,’ Cardilini said, stepping back.

‘He’s already aware of that.’

‘Why are we waiting then?’ Cardilini barked.

‘This is the army, sir. We don’t schedule time for impromptu visits from civilians. Surprising as that may seem.’

‘All right. Let’s stop crapping around,’ Cardilini threatened.

The sergeant looked back firmly.

Cardilini called to the door behind the sergeant, ‘Captain, I know you’re in there this is a police investigation. You have a minute to comply with an official request or I’ll leave and you can talk to your superiors about it.’

The sergeant took a step forward.

‘Salt, if this man tries to interfere cuff him immediately.’

The sergeant turned a hostile gaze to Salt.

‘With pleasure, sir,’ Salt replied.

Cardilini turned to Salt in surprise.

‘Still waters, Sergeant, be careful,’ he said, indicating Salt.

The adjoining door opened.

‘What’s going on here, Sergeant?’ demanded a red face thrusting from a tight-fitting uniform.

‘Detective Sergeant Cardilini and Constable Salt, sir,’ the sergeant snapped out.

‘Not prepared to wait your turn, Detective Sergeant Cardilini?’

‘Not prepared to be stuffed around, Captain.’

‘Sergeant. Why are they here?’

‘To interview a Private Williamson.’

‘Did the sergeant tell you that won’t be possible?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘So. Explain why you’re still here.’

‘What’s to explain? I want to see him,’ Cardilini insisted.

‘What part of, “It’s not possible”, are you having trouble with?’

‘I know he’s here.’

‘Yes. He’s here.’

‘Let me see him,’ Cardilini demanded.

‘Private Williamson is currently involved in a specific training program involving thirty other troops. This program will be in place until they are shipped to Vietnam. Where, I’m sure even you know, we are fighting a war. How does your enquiry match up to that?’

‘While he’s in Australia you know we have the authority to speak to him on legitimate police business.’

‘You’re a Western Australian policeman, correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘We’ve been polite to this point. This base is under Commonwealth jurisdiction. You’re not a federal policeman. No one is compelled to answer your questions. Take your complaint to the federal police where I’m sure they will put all their resources at your disposal to solve, what, a urinating in public charge? Try to get some perspective, Detective Sergeant Cardilini.’

‘Fine, I’ll wait until he leaves the base,’ Cardilini said.