Blood Sunset Part 27

'Whatever.'

'I just need a name to match an address and any vehicle registrations that go with it.'

Finetti groaned and I pictured him in the watch-house, his feet up on the bench, watching the CCTV screens with a bowl of pasta, a napkin over his s.h.i.+rt.

'Look, we're on the wave here. Sparks gave us a good one, could go all the way. Just run an address then we're square.'

'Yeah, square as a peg. What is it?'

I doubled-checked the letterbox and gave him the address, then told him to check for the registration of a late-model BMW, or any other vehicles that might be listed at the address. I also told him how Sparks had broken into the house, stolen the car keys and returned later to steal the car.

'Yeah, righto,' Finetti said. 'I'll go with the car first. Let me call you back.'

Ca.s.sie and I went back to the car while Finetti went to work. Sparks had unwound the window for his dog, which had s...o...b..red all over the back pillar. I was annoyed but didn't let on.

'Where'd you get him?' I asked instead, nodding at the dog.

'Found him on the beach,' Sparks said. 'About three months ago. No lead or collar, n.o.body around, just another runaway. Like me, I s'pose. I could tell he was just a pup, so I played with him a bit, even gave him some chips, and he followed me back to the squat. I tried to make him go away, but he wouldn't leave me alone. Anyhow, I knew he wasn't gonna survive on his own in the streets, and I don't really like bein' on me own either, so I started lookin' after him. Even in summer it gets cold sometimes in the squat, especially at night.' He gave the dog a vigorous pat and it licked his face. 'We keep each other warm, don't we, mate?'

'More loyalty and faithfulness in one dog than in a hundred men,' Ca.s.sie said, stepping in beside me to pat the dog.

's.h.i.+t yeah,' said Sparks. 'Hooch doesn't care about what I look like or whether I've got any money. He just cares if I'm around.'

I smiled, unsure whether the story was a happy or sad one, then stepped away from the car to call Ella and cancel dinner. Finetti called back as I was dialling her number.

'Not gonna believe this, mate,' he said. 'I ran the address and got a hit.'

'Right, and?'

'Cop this. Comes up with a 2006 M5 Beamer, navy blue in colour, registered to a Karl Vitazul,' he said, then waited for me to place the name.

It took a moment, but then the familiarity hit me like a jab in the nose.

'You're s.h.i.+ttin' me,' I said out loud, looking at Ca.s.sie. 'It's Vitazul, the cafe owner who found the body.'

'Still there, man?' Finetti said after a second.

'I want a full set on this guy, Mark. Get on LEAP and check all variations to his name. Also, get on to the Feds and see what '

'Done all that, McCauley. When the name came up, I recognised it as the guy who found Dallas Boyd in the first place. And since he specifically said he didn't know the kid, I'm thinking he's got something major to hide. Like, whoever smelt it dealt it.'

'What's his sheet say?'

'I've got it up on the screen right now and that's the thing. Nada.'

'Nothing at all?'

'Well, according to his driver's licence, Vitazul was born in 1915, which doesn't gel with the guy we saw at the cafe. So I checked his licence photo through VicRoads and guess what, it's not our guy. The guy on the licence is older than dirt.'

I tried to think it through. Either we were talking about two different people with the same name who just happened to be connected to the same murder, or the name Vitazul was bulls.h.i.+t.

'What about the address?' I asked. 'Any crime reports, maybe a burg or stolen car?'

'Sweet b.u.g.g.e.r all. This Vitazul character, or whoever the h.e.l.l he is, didn't report his car stolen or the break-in. Maybe your kid's telling porkies about where he got the laptop.'

I looked at Sparks sitting hunched up in the back seat. 'He's telling the truth.'

'All right, man. Want me to put a KALOF out on this guy?'

'No, I know where to find him,' I said. I hung up before Finetti said anything else, then filled Ca.s.sie in on the details.

'Whoever Vitazul is, he's hiding something,' she said. 'Maybe we should call Homicide, give them the news and get a posse going?'

I didn't need to think about a response. 'No, I want to talk to this guy myself. And anyway, all I'm going to do is bring this p.r.i.c.k in on the kiddie p.o.r.n and see what shakes out. No need to mention anything about Dallas Boyd or the Talbot Reserve job last night.'

'And therefore no need to call Homicide?' she finished.

I smiled at her across the roof of the Falcon. 'Now you're with me.'

'You're as s.h.i.+fty as a s.h.i.+thouse rat, you know that?'

'One of Victoria's finest.'

26.

I DROPPED SPARKS BACK AT the squat, we swapped mobile phone numbers and I said I'd be in touch. Then I parked in a clearway and Ca.s.sie and I walked the two blocks to Acland Street. The crowd seemed to move at an agonisingly slow pace and I ended up pus.h.i.+ng my way through. As we pa.s.sed a black BMW roadster a thought occurred to me. the squat, we swapped mobile phone numbers and I said I'd be in touch. Then I parked in a clearway and Ca.s.sie and I walked the two blocks to Acland Street. The crowd seemed to move at an agonisingly slow pace and I ended up pus.h.i.+ng my way through. As we pa.s.sed a black BMW roadster a thought occurred to me.

'What colour did Sparks say Vitazul's Beamer was?'

'Dark blue,' Ca.s.sie said. 'And Finetti confirmed that, right?'

I nodded, a sudden realisation dawning on me. Tammy York had been strangled by an overweight man in a navy blue BMW. She'd even said he'd spoken with a European accent. He kept patting my head and telling me I'd been a good girl but now I was bad. He kept patting my head and telling me I'd been a good girl but now I was bad.

'Son of a b.i.t.c.h,' I said. 'He was trying to kill her too.'

'What?' said Ca.s.sie.

I told her about Tammy York and how her attacker might very well have been Vitazul.

'Maybe she was in on the scam too. Like Dallas and Justin,' she said. 'All three of them are on that disk. That would explain why she never mentioned anything about it when you questioned her.'

I was thinking the same thing and was about to suggest we question her again when my mobile rang. The caller ID read private number.

'McCauley.'

'Rubes, is that you?'

'Andy?' I said, unsure because of all the noise of the crowd.

Covering my other ear, I heard my brother mention something about a gym members.h.i.+p, so I turned down an alley to hear him better.

'Say again?'

'I said, you wanted me to check the names on our client list at the gym, see if those kids you were looking for had members.h.i.+p, right?'

Ca.s.sie came around the corner, her face curious, and I mouthed the word 'Anthony'.

'No Derek Jardine on our current client list,' Anthony said. 'His members.h.i.+p expired last June. No continuance. As I said, not surprising. Not many stick with it.'

'Never mind him. I think he's in Queensland anyhow.'

'This other bloke, Dallas Boyd, his members.h.i.+p's still current, though we haven't seen him for a while either. Maybe he's in Queensland too. Wish I was. Maybe if I start using heroin every day the government'll pay for me to go on a holiday. That how it works?'

'Something like that. Listen, I'm on to something here. Gotta fly. Thanks, Andy.'

'No worries. Thanks for going to see Mum this morning, by the way. I've just got back myself.'

I winced and turned away from Ca.s.sie. 'Ah, how is she?'

'Still knocked out on painkillers. Dad's going to stay overnight and take her back to the nursing home tomorrow, if the fires don't get too close.'

'Anything I can do?'

'Just speak to Chloe. I'll deal with Mum and Dad for now.'

'All right, mate. You take care.'

'Thanks. Ciao.'

'Everything okay?' Ca.s.sie asked when I hung up.

'Family politics,' I said, brus.h.i.+ng her off. 'Let's go do this.'

I filled her in on the YMCA dead end as we walked into Cafe Vit. Like everywhere else in St Kilda that day, it was crowded, hot and loud.

'I don't know a Karl Vitazul,' a waiter named Nigel said in answer to my question. 'n.o.body by that name works here.'

'Think!' Ca.s.sie said. 'He told us he was the owner.'

'He's overweight,' I added. 'Maybe five ten, thin hair, round face. Speaks with a European accent.'

The waiter frowned. 'You must mean Gervas.'

'Who's Gervas?'

'Gervas Kirzek. He's He's the owner.' the owner.'

I frowned, confused. Why had the owner given me a different name, one that matched the registration plate and home address of a ninety-three year old?

'Where is he?' I asked.

'I don't know.'

Ca.s.sie stepped closer, lowering her voice. 'Don't lie to us, Nigel. We've got a job to do, just like you. Just tell us where he is and we'll be out of here.' She nodded towards the seating area. 'If not, we'll make a real scene.'

Nigel ran a hand through oily hair. 'Look, I don't know where he is. He hasn't been in since that dead kid was found out back. Freaked him out.'

'Did you know Dallas Boyd?' Ca.s.sie prodded.

'Who?'

'The kid your boss found outside.'

'Just some junkie, wasn't he? Shame they can't all go that way, I reckon. You should see what some of them do around here. Just last week we had one guy '

'Your boss,' I interrupted. 'Where can we find him?' 'At home, I suppose. I hope he hasn't done something stupid.'

'Like what?'

's.h.i.+t, I don't know. As I said, he was pretty freaked out after finding that kid. And they say it's victimless to use drugs. Tell that to Gervas. He had to wait outside with the body. He was a mess afterwards. People feel sorry for junkies, but I don't. They come in here all the time, thieving and hara.s.sing everyone. Last week one of them even vomited in the '

'Save it,' I hissed.

'Kitchen,' he finished.

'Just tell us where he lives.'

'All right! I'll get you the address. I'm just saying that thing last week had him real wired, man. Maybe you could check on him, make sure he's all right,' he said, leading us past the kitchen to an office at the rear.

At the back door, I looked out at the loading bay where Dallas Boyd had died and thought about how far we'd come in just a few days. There were cops who said that all cases had a rush point: the moment you knew you were face to face with evil, when all your instincts and gut feelings were proven. With it came an immense rush of adrenaline that surpa.s.sed anything else on the planet. Before Nigel even wrote down the address, I knew it would be the same house we'd just been to in Elwood, and I felt that familiar sensation build in my stomach. I looked at Ca.s.sie and knew she felt it too. Rush point. We were closing in.

27.