BooksBarbecue
Back Man at the Window Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. One
  3. Two
  4. Three
  5. Four
  6. Five
  7. Six
  8. Seven
  9. Eight
  10. Nine
  11. Ten
  12. Eleven
  13. Twelve
  14. Thirteen
  15. Fourteen
  16. Fifteen
  17. Sixteen
  18. Seventeen
  19. Eighteen
  20. Nineteen
  21. Twenty
  22. Twenty-One
  23. Twenty-Two
  24. Twenty-Three
  25. Twenty-Four
  26. Twenty-Five
  27. Twenty-Six
  28. Twenty-Seven
  29. Twenty-Eight
  30. Twenty-Nine
  31. Thirty
  32. Thirty-One
  33. Thirty-Two
  34. Thirty-Three
  35. Thirty-Four
  36. Thirty-Five
  37. Thirty-Six
  38. Thirty-Seven
  39. Thirty-Eight
  40. Thirty-Nine
  41. Forty
  42. Forty-One
  43. Forty-Two
  44. Forty-Three
  45. Forty-Four
  46. Forty-Five
  47. Forty-Six
  48. Forty-Seven
  49. Forty-Eight
  50. Forty-Nine
  51. Fifty
  52. Fifty-One
  53. Fifty-Two
  54. Fifty-Three
  55. Fifty-Four
  56. Fifty-Five
  57. Fifty-Six
  58. Fifty-Seven
  59. Fifty-Eight
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the author

‘Do you remember what she did?’ Cardilini asked.

‘No.’

They stood watching the water pool.

‘I still might go to Aunty Roslyn’s,’ Paul said curtly without turning.

‘I know. I hope you don’t. But I know I’ve been worse than useless,’ Cardilini said and walked towards the house.

A church

6.30 p.m. Sunday, 1st November 1965

The place Mrs Masters had chosen for her meeting with Cardilini was a church. A bell tower soared square and solid beside its gabled roof. Cardilini walked around the side to the rectory as instructed. It was built in the same cream stone as the church yet still looked as though it clung to its side incongruously. Cardilini knocked on the door. A priest in his clerical clothing and collar opened it.

‘Detective Sergeant Cardilini?’

‘Yes.’

‘Father O’Reilly. Come in.’

The front door led into a parlour furnished with five mismatched armchairs, a small writing desk and an excessive number of standard lamps shedding pools of yellow light. Mrs Masters sat in one of the armchairs. The flesh on her face hung from her eyebrows as if too heavy or too beaten to stand firm. Thin shoulders arched forward, timid fingers moved continuously on a cup and saucer. Cardilini’s stomach sank.

‘Mrs Masters, Detective Sergeant Cardilini,’ Father O’Reilly said.

Cardilini nodded, as did Mrs Masters.

‘We’re having tea. Would you like a cup?’ Father O’Reilly broke the silence.

‘Yes, please,’ Cardilini said despite his stomach making every indication it would be unwise to drink anything. He sat beside Mrs Masters.

‘How do you do.’ He held out his hand. Mrs Masters left her cup alone for an instant to put her hand limply in his. He held it while he said, ‘I’m sorry for what you have suffered.’ She withdrew her hand and looked to Father O’Reilly.

‘Mr Masters isn’t aware of this meeting.’ Father O’Reilly said. Cardilini nodded.

‘He lost his faith,’ he said smiling at Mrs Masters then continued to Cardilini, ‘Mrs Lockheed spoke about your visit to her house and about your questions.’

Cardilini nodded, Mrs Masters kept her eyes on O’Reilly.

‘We’re hoping you might be able to help us understand why Geoffrey took his own life.’ O’Reilly finished.

Mrs Masters turned her attention to Cardilini.

‘What reasons did Geoffrey give for leaving the cadets?’ Cardilini asked her.

‘He was asked to leave,’ Mrs Masters said.

‘Why?’

‘Is this to do with Geoffrey taking his life?’ O’Reilly asked.

‘It could be.’

‘I don’t see how,’ O’Reilly said.

‘Mrs Masters, what did Geoffrey say to you?’

Mrs Masters turned to O’Reilly who answered for her, ‘We’re not sure that it is relevant. We believe some boys made up accusations.’

‘Did you believe your son, Mrs Masters?’ Cardilini asked ignoring O’Reilly.

O’Reilly persisted, ‘Detective Cardilini, Mrs Lockheed said you might have information to help us understand . . .’