Chapters (61)
- Cover
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Acknowledgements
- About the author
Cardilini slowly closed the door and turned to Paul. ‘I can cook tonight.’
‘What?’
‘Sausages.’
‘You have to have something with them.’
‘Potatoes.’
Paul stood in the hallway seemingly undecided then he said, ‘Aunty Roslyn asked me to dinner.’
‘Good, good. You two catch up. Say hello from me,’ Cardilini said and turned into the kitchen. Paul stood watching him for a moment then walked to his bedroom.
Day 11
Kilkenny Road
8.00 a.m. Wednesday, 4th November 1965
Cardilini sat by the phone with his notes spread out before him. The first call was to the Marlborough School for Boys. He waited for the principal to come on line.
‘Marks.’
‘Principal Marks?’ Cardilini asked.
‘You’re the detective from Perth?’
‘Detective Sergeant Cardilini. Ringing about Captain Edmund.’
‘We heard. Tragic. What do you want to know?’
‘Why did he leave your school?’
‘Chasing greater opportunity, I believe.’
‘Was there any reason for you to mistrust him around the students?’
‘I gave him an excellent reference.’
‘Yes. But was there?’
‘The man has passed on. Is there any point to this?’
‘Some students have made complaints about unwanted sexual behaviour towards them.’
‘Over there?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t help you. I gave the man an excellent reference.’
‘So you say. I take it you had similar complaints.’ Cardilini waited for a response.
‘I can’t help you, Detective Sergeant Cardilini. I know what you’re chasing. I won’t be damaging the man’s reputation at this point.’
‘Or your school’s reputation?’
After a pause, ‘Anything else I can help you with, Detective Sergeant Cardilini?’
‘Not right now.’
The phone went dead and Cardilini dialled the Fremantle Police Station.
Thirty
THIRTY
Day 2
12.45 p.m. Monday, 26th October 1965
With his back to the wall, the boy stood in the corridor near the sixth form common room door. Head down, he watched the black, polished shoes and swishing grey-trousered legs of students walk past. Voices filled the corridor and his ears: deep voices, talking, calling to one another; they seemed older than his father’s or other men’s voices; wiser, terrifying voices; voices that could look in his eyes and see his shame. The bell for period three sounded. There were too many shoes to count now, too many to see correctly, black blurs against the bare floorboards, too many voices, none speaking discernible words, instead making a hum and clatter like an engine. The engine followed the shoes down the corridor and out the door. He knew he wouldn’t move until . . . he wondered how long.