Blood Sunset Part 30

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the face, a telling detail, maybe a tattoo, anything, but all I could see was the dress. There'd been a blonde wig too, but the dress had been all-consuming. Bright red and bursting at the seams. That had probably been his intention. Make yourself look disgusting, that way no one looks at your face. Perfect disguise.

'The hommies might want to speak to you,' Kim said.

'Yeah. How much did the witnesses see?'

'Not a lot. They live around here, a married couple. They see trannies all the time, so this was no biggie, except when they got back from their evening stroll us cops were here with the body. Anyway, we didn't want them skipping the scene so we got Homicide on to them real quick.'

That ruled out any option of me being able to talk to them.

'What do you make of the transvest.i.te angle? Real or staged?'

Kim chuckled. 'All you heteros are the same, if you ask me. Wouldn't know s.h.i.+t from s.h.i.+ne when it comes to our side of the fence. My guess is your guy, Mr Fatty or whatever the h.e.l.l they've called him, put on a bit of lippy and a wig, slipped into a dress and there you go: an overweight transvest.i.te.'

I nodded slowly. 'Yeah, like you say, not out of place in St Kilda.'

'Nothing's out of place in St Kilda. Come with me,' she said, leading me across the street to a white panel van with a cage on the back, a Port Phillip Council emblem on the doors.

'Dog catchers,' she explained, pointing to the dog in the rear cabin. 'The kid had a mutt. Some kind of pit bull by the look of it. It wouldn't let us or the ambos near the body so we had to get a dog catcher out. Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d had to ignore the body while trying to catch the dog. In the end he caught the dog then puked his guts up.' Kim laughed. 'b.l.o.o.d.y ambos had to treat him for shock. Guess he's still not well enough to drive.'

I didn't find the story amusing. The dog was asleep on a blanket, probably in shock too. Sparks had had little to offer the dog but he was still loyal enough to defend his master.

'Hooch,' I said, easing away from the window.

'What's that?'

'The dog's name's Hooch. He's a bull mastiff. Not a pit bull.'

'Not going to be anything for long. Not once they get him in the pound.'

I looked around for Ca.s.sie and saw Eckles step under the tape and stride towards me.

'What the h.e.l.l are you doing here, McCauley?' he snarled. 'Are you trying to give me a f.u.c.king heart attack?'

'Don't even start,' I said. 'This is Kirzek's handiwork, which to me is one h.e.l.l of a mystery since you were supposed to arrest him. They even had his face plastered all over the news. What the h.e.l.l h.e.l.l happened?' happened?'

'It's not your concern, McCauley. Go home before I '

'Not my my concern? Mate, my informant's dead. Killed by the same p.r.i.c.k you and Stello took off to arrest an concern? Mate, my informant's dead. Killed by the same p.r.i.c.k you and Stello took off to arrest an hour hour ago. What happened?' ago. What happened?'

When Eckles didn't reply I knew there'd been a screw-up.

'Let me guess,' I said. 'Somebody tipped off the media that an arrest was imminent, then when you realised Kirzek wasn't where he was supposed to be, you decided to cover your a.r.s.e. Who was in the back seat of the arrest car?'

He didn't answer.

'I wouldn't be surprised if you put one of our guys in there just for show.'

'Hey, we got a righteous bust,' Eckles bl.u.s.tered. 'The guy was driving Kirzek's Beamer. He even has photos of him in his apartment. From what I can see, they're mates or something and this guy just played the red herring so Kirzek could take a walk.'

'So who is he then?'

Eckles looked away but I wasn't having it.

'Don't ignore me, Ben. Sparks was helping me ... helping us. us. Kirzek killed him and he's still out there, making us look like idiots. Who the h.e.l.l have you got?' Kirzek killed him and he's still out there, making us look like idiots. Who the h.e.l.l have you got?'

'Some priest named Miles Jorgensen, works for Back Outside. You know, the kiddie prison program.'

I didn't recognise either the name or the program, and thought about ringing Will Novak to ask what he knew about it, but there wasn't time.

'We tried to sweat this guy right off the top but he flexed his silent rights,' Eckles said. 'The cheeky son of a b.i.t.c.h even started praying in the interrogation room. Asked the Lord to forgive us us, can you believe that s.h.i.+t?'

I looked up at the sky. It was a dark and murky red with no stars and no moon, the city still encased in smoke. The priest under arrest only served to twist the knot in my gut even tighter. Kirzek was playing with us, stalling us. There could be only one reason for that. I studied the strain in my boss's eyes and realised he'd reached the same conclusion.

'You want my help or not?' I said.

He kicked at rubble on the ground and said, 'Just do what you have to do to catch this p.r.i.c.k.'

I left him with his head bowed and walked to the edge of the crime scene where Ca.s.sie was telling a reporter to back up and keep the camera out of her face.

'It's a setup,' I said quietly, pulling her out of earshot. 'Kirzek had one of his cronies bait the hommies and SOG so he could slip away. That means he's not finished.'

'Tammy York,' she said, a look of fear suffusing her face. 'She can tie Kirzek to the laptop. He's going back for seconds.'

We ran back to my car and I fired the engine while Ca.s.sie ordered the crowd back. When we pulled onto Acland Street, my mobile phone chirped. With one hand on the wheel, I checked the screen.

'Ella,' I said, wondering why she would be calling me.

When I answered my heart skipped a beat. The voice coming back at me wasn't Ella's. It was male, with a thick European accent. Gervas Kirzek.

30.

I SWUNG THE CAR OVER TO the sidewalk and shrieked to a halt. the sidewalk and shrieked to a halt.

'You steal my life,' Kirzek said. 'I want it back.'

'Your life? I don't understand,' I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

'You have something of mine. I have something of yours.'

'Ella?'

'Yes, your wife.'

I rested a hand on the dash to steady myself. 'What do you want?'

'I want the laptop back. Give it back or I flay your b.i.t.c.h wife like filthy pig.'

I blinked away an image of Kirzek cutting Ella like he had Sparks and Justin Quinn. Ca.s.sie held up her radio to ask if I wanted her to call it in. I shook my head and she put a hand on my shoulder, a silent message that she was onside.

'I don't have the laptop with me, but I can get it. How do I know Ella is okay?'

'One thing at one time, Mr Rubens. Be very slow and very careful, you understand? Do not tell pig friends, and b.i.t.c.h won't get knife.'

'What do you want me to do?'

'Get laptop, no pigs, and I call one hour.'

I started to reply but the line went dead. When I tried to call Ella's mobile phone it was switched off.

'Motherf.u.c.ker!' I roared, punching the dash and getting out of the car. I paced back and forth, trying to control my panic.

'You need to stay calm,' Ca.s.sie said, getting out too. 'What did he say?'

'He wants the laptop back, but he'll kill her if I bring in other cops.'

I couldn't risk involving anyone else. Not Eckles or Stello. Not Kim Pendlebury or Mark Finetti. Not even the tactical response units specially trained for this type of thing. But what about Ca.s.sie? If she hadn't been in the car when the call came through, I probably wouldn't involve her either, but she was my partner and I had to trust her.

'We need to get the laptop somewhere safe,' I said. 'I don't give a s.h.i.+t what's on the hard drive. I'm not letting Eckles or any other f.u.c.kwit bargain with Ella's life.'

Ca.s.sie looked back at me, silent. Finally she walked over to the driver's side door and pointed at the pa.s.senger seat.

'Get in,' she said. 'I'm driving. We'll go to my place. If he's planning anything s.h.i.+fty, he'll go to your place first. He won't know about mine.'

Back at the watch-house, I ran upstairs, collected the laptop and a knapsack from the property room that contained a two-way mike set and earpiece. Ca.s.sie made a U-turn and spun the car hard and fast onto Brighton Road. She swung onto the tram tracks down to the junction into South Melbourne and eventually screeched to a halt outside her two-bedroom cottage. I followed her through the front gate and into the house, checking the street for anything out of place.

I waited in the lounge while Ca.s.sie brought in her own laptop and set it up on the coffee table next to Kirzek's.

'I'm going to call him,' I said.

'Wait.' Ca.s.sie grabbed my wrist. 'He said he he would ring.' would ring.'

'I don't care. Let's get it over with.'

I dialled the number but the phone was still switched off. Thoughts of Kirzek lying to me, trying to trick me, exploded in my mind. I pressed my fingers into my temples, reminding myself that I had the one thing Kirzek wanted. The laptop. It was my only chance.

Unable to stay still, I headed outside onto the front porch, adrenaline racing as I tried to work out what to do. My hands began to tremble and I had to grip the bal.u.s.trade. How the f.u.c.k did Kirzek even know know about Ella? I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing. One of Anthony's relaxation mantras played in my mind. about Ella? I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing. One of Anthony's relaxation mantras played in my mind. One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand. Reee-laaaax. One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand. Reee-laaaax. I counted with the slow rhythm and imagined swimming in the baths at Brighton Beach, each breath a new stroke, closer and closer to the sh.o.r.e. I counted with the slow rhythm and imagined swimming in the baths at Brighton Beach, each breath a new stroke, closer and closer to the sh.o.r.e.

It was a while before I realised Ca.s.sie was talking to me.

'What's that?' I said.

'I think I've found something on the internet. Come take a look.'

I followed her back into the lounge and sat next to her on the sofa.

'I started with a simple Google search on the name Gervas Kirzek,' she said, facing the screen. 'Got nothing on that so I ran another on the priest the Soggies just arrested.'

'Miles Jorgensen?'

'Right. Again nothing came up, but when I added the words "children" and "charges" to the search, I found an article in the Bulletin Bulletin about a group they call The Holy Brethren. Have a look.' about a group they call The Holy Brethren. Have a look.'

BRETHREN BROTHERS SPIN WEB OF PERVERSIONAustralian Federal Police believe The Holy Brethren is a loosely connected group of paedophiles banded together by the internet and a now-defunct travel agency in Sydney allegedly responsible for organising hundreds of s.e.x tours to countries such as the Philippines, Thailand and Cambodia.According to sources close to the AFP's Locust Taskforce, an anti-child-p.o.r.nography operation, The Holy Brethren has an estimated members.h.i.+p of at least 300 individuals across the nation, with affiliations to the Catholic Church, various community groups, some elements of the education system and the welfare sector.'Members of The Holy Brethren often take part in various bonding rituals,' said Fiona Johns, a Federal Agent attached to the Locust Taskforce. 'These include prayer groups and camping trips where new members are sworn in, promoted and, if necessary, disciplined.'The AFP believes The Holy Brethren, like many organisations, is structured according to hierarchy. However, when asked about leaders.h.i.+p, officials remained tight-lipped, but according to doc.u.ments obtained under Freedom of Information legislation, a number of AFP agents a.s.signed to the Locust Taskforce have recently visited countries in the European Eastern Bloc, namely Poland and Romania.'There are other commonalities between members both in their personal lives and in business,' Agent Johns added. 'For instance, they might all arrange their holidays through the same travel agent, whom they know to be a fellow member. Even purchasing cars or having them serviced might be done through fellow members. It's a very secular way of life.'When asked how members could be identified, Agent Johns explained that it wasn't that simple. 'They don't wear uniforms or advertise their members.h.i.+p in any particular way,' she said. 'They don't have tattoos or a club emblem, for instance. However, they can sometimes be identified by a small silver crucifix, either worn on a necklace or as an earring.'

'It goes on to mention they have cells in all major Australian cities, and that child p.o.r.nography and the s.e.x tours are its main forms of connection and economy,' Ca.s.sie explained.

I knew then that we were nudging an iceberg.

'Romania,' I said, recalling Agent Johns' briefing on Kirzek and his role in the Romanian secret police. 'How does the priest fit into it?'

'That's where it gets interesting. His name's in the middle of the article. Here,' she said, pointing to the screen.

Among the dozens of organisations mentioned in a concluding report filed by the Locust Taskforce are some of the nation's leading charity and welfare groups, including the former prison release service Breaking the Wall, which has been staunchly defended by its founder, Father Miles Jorgensen.'Breaking the Wall absolutely refutes these accusations,' Jorgensen said. 'We are a charity organisation and have been helping incarcerated young people form better connections with the community for more than ten years. The AFP's comments have only served to worsen the lives of thousands of at-risk young people who depend on us for a better future.'

Breaking the Wall was a name I did remember. I hadn't heard it referred to for a long time though and was surprised it was still operating. It was a post-prison release service whose primary function was to a.s.sist kids re-entering the community after a period of incarceration. It helped them find employment, accommodation and other essential services.

'What else have you got?' I asked Ca.s.sie, remembering something Will Novak had said to me at the crisis centre. 'Anything about a group called Back Outside?'

She tapped at the keyboard, then said, 'I ran a name search on Breaking the Wall and got redirected to the Back Outside website. Guess whose name comes up in the annual report?'

'Miles Jorgensen?'

'Right. Looks like he started up a new service under a different name. So typical, isn't it just move your problem elsewhere and hope it goes away.'

I nodded, thinking it through.

'There's something else,' Ca.s.sie said. 'This is an old press release from early last year on their "what's news" page. Check it out.'

I leant into the screen and read the text she'd highlighted.