Guy Fawkes Night, page 7
part #3 of Mitchell Mystery Series
‘And Karen?’
He grunted. ‘She’s as bad as he is. Only with her it’s chasing one bloke around after another. Every week she’s heartbroken about someone or other and then five minutes later she’s off with another one. There could be a shotgun wedding any day and I wouldn’t be surprised. And you think it’s good kids staying close to home? I reckon I’d be happier if they were out of sight and out of mind.’
‘What does your wife make of all this?’
‘What she makes of it is that she’s too soft. It’s always me who has to be the bad one. The one who shouts and gets into arguments with them.’
‘Is that why Mark left home?’
‘If that had of been all it was.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Anyway, at his age he shouldn’t be home any more. He should be making his own way. Except he’s not.’
‘Gary, someone was found in the wreckage of your building. We think it might have been Anton Dragic.’
‘So I hear.’
‘Did you ever have anything to do with him?’
‘Dragic? No. I know Mark looked up to him. Probably because there was another bloke always on the lookout for a quick dollar.’
‘I thought he was a hard worker?’
‘He might have been once, but not in recent times. That place you’re building your house, you think you’ve done your money there?’
‘No. The worst thing that could happen is if my builder folds for any reason and then I can’t get someone else to finish the job.’
‘You’re lucky then, because I heard some aren’t. Put too much money down up front for houses that didn’t even get started.’
‘You didn’t have any money in the estate yourself?’
‘I might have done once. I wouldn’t now.’
‘Why not?’
‘Think about it. All those empty blocks to sell when there’s always plenty of houses up for sale in town, not to mention vacant land all over the place. It’s none of my business, but why would you pay a shitload for land and a house like that?’
‘Probably because some people just want to have a new house. Me and Nance like that idea. But changing tack for a minute, Gary. Did you or anyone else ever keep fuel tins in the Sandpiper for any reason?’
He thought, before saying, ‘I don’t think so. We only used electricity and bottled gas in the kitchen. You wouldn’t leave any kind of fuel lying around when you see some of the drongos we get at functions.’
‘Who normally cleaned the hall?’
‘That was Meg and Karen. Sometimes after a really big turn we’d hire a few girls to help, but most of the time we did it ourselves.’
‘Who was going to clean the Sandpiper after last Saturday’s cabaret?’
Weaver’s head sunk. ‘That was going to be us. Meg and Karen. But …’ Cole could see he was becoming emotional. ‘… that’s not going to happen now, is it? I can’t even look at it while you blokes are there.’
‘No, I’m sorry about all that, Gary. But you’ll get back on your feet again.’ Cole knew his words were hollow. Whatever Weaver was going to do, it wouldn’t be happening any time soon and he wondered how Weaver would cope with that. ‘I’ll see how long it’ll be before you can get onto the site again, and let you know.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Oh, and I’ll say hello to your wife before I go.’
‘She’s in the kitchen,’ Weaver said, but made no move to get out of his chair.
Cole wandered off on his own and found both mother and daughter in the kitchen. When their eyes latched onto him they were accusatory, but defensive too. They both faced him from where they were standing against the sink, their hands behind them grasping it as if waiting for whatever he might throw at them.
‘Sorry to interrupt Meg, Karen,’ he began. ‘And I’m sorry about all the trouble you’ve had. It can’t be easy.’
‘No,’ the wife said, but uneasily.
‘I thought I might just come over and see if any of you could shed any light on why someone might have wanted to set fire to the Sandpiper. We found burnt petrol cans inside.’
‘We never kept petrol inside,’ Meg said.
Coles eyes drilled into them. ‘Has there been any kind of upset about the place, trouble of any kind?’
‘You’ve got our books. There was nothing wrong there,’ she said defiantly.
Meg was younger than her husband and in much better shape, despite the cigarettes she smoked. She was drawing heavily on one as she spoke, flicking ash from it into the sink behind her. But she and her daughter were peas from the same pod: the way they stood, the way they clipped their straight, fair hair back, the way their pale blue eyes never left him for a second. It might have been an old joke, the one about mother and daughter looking more like sisters, but in this case it was true. Both women were wiry but fit-looking. Cole often saw Meg cycling about town at a good clip.
Cole continued, ‘I’m not saying there was, but trouble comes in different shapes, doesn’t it? Does Mark come home for dinner often?’
‘Often enough. What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Nothing. I’m just curious. Gary says you and Karen did all the Sandpiper’s cleaning. Did Mark ever help with it?’
‘No, he did other stuff.’
‘Like what?’
She raised her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. Organising. Helping with the bookings. Buying furniture that needed replacing.’
‘But you and Karen had to do all the hard work, cleaning floors, scrubbing out toilets after a big night.’
‘You think Mark did it, did you?’
‘I’m not saying that. But people have been known to set fire to their own property before. Usually but not only for financial reasons.’
‘We were making money. We weren’t going backwards.’
‘Then if it wasn’t your financial situation we have to assume someone else did it.’
‘Obviously,’ Meg said with more than a hint of sarcasm, removing the cigarette from her mouth only long enough to say it.
‘What about you, Karen? Do you know why someone might have done that.’
The daughter glanced quickly at her mother before answering, ‘No, I don’t. It’d only be a guess.’
‘Guess away then,’ Cole said on seeing her discomfort.
Karen held her breath before saying, ‘I heard someone wanted to open a new reception centre. It’d be competition for us.’
‘I haven’t heard that,’ Cole said. ‘Who’s opening a new place?’
‘I dunno. Just someone.’
‘Did you hear that too, Meg?’
‘Me? I might’ve. I can’t remember.’
‘Where were you both in the early hours of Sunday morning?’
‘At home,’ Meg answered.
‘In bed,’ Karen said.
‘Did you know Anton Dragic?’ Cole asked Meg.
‘No.’
‘Karen?’
She shook her head.
‘Alright then. And you can’t think of anything or anyone who might have burnt down the Sandpiper? Any reason for it at all?’
This time they both shook their heads.
‘Well, let me know if you think of something, won’t you?’ he said.
But they just stared at him as if he’d asked them to rob a bank.
Chapter 10
After Cole left the Weavers he drove past the Early Settlers Estate, casting a wistful eye over it before heading back to the main road out of town. When he reached the main road he turned left and about half a mile along he hooked left again, up a narrow, corrugated driveway that jarred every bone in his body on the way into Tito Cavallo’s farm.
He spotted the farmer at a fence near the house block. When he got nearer he saw him tying a dead fox to it. Cole parked his car by the gate leading into the paddock and joined the farmer.
‘Bastards,’ Cavallo spat from the corner of his mouth. ‘Bloody foxes.’
‘Well, it looks like you got this one in time.’
Cavallo gave him a disdainful look. ‘Not in time for chickens he got. Bastard!’
‘How many did you lose?’
‘Just two this time. I got out last night and I shoot him, boom! Left him in a paddock and now I tie him up here to tell the other foxes.’
‘They say it works.’
‘Works bloody alright. Works for this one,’ he said.
Cole watched him finishing his work. The Italian wasn’t a big man, but he was powerful and with strong hands. He twisted heavy gauge wire around the fox’s legs like it was cotton.
‘How’s the family? All going well I hope?’
Cavallo didn’t look at him, concentrating instead on wiring the fox. ‘They gone on a holiday. The missus and the girls. Italy.’
‘You didn’t want to go yourself?’
He turned then. ‘And who milk the cows?’
‘Fair enough. Anyway you might go another time.’ Cole waited a moment before continuing, ‘Tito, I wanted to have a word with you about Anton Dragic. When did you see him last?’
‘Him?’ Cavallo snorted. ‘I never seen him for a long time and I never want to. Bludger bastard. He just make the shire pipple do what he want when he take the land that not even his.’
‘Who did own it then?’
‘Nobody own it. It belong to the government and they let us all use it that road. Then Dragic and the other ones just say we take it and they build houses on it. It not belong to them. It belongs to the pipple.’
‘Who do you mean by the other ones, Tito?’
‘The shire pipple.’
‘You mean the councillors?’
‘Yes. I go to the council and they say alright mate we give it to the housing thing. I complain. I say it not right and it a road belong to everyone. But Dragic call me a wog and say mind my own business. But it was my business and not him. After the meeting I see him outside and I tell him and then we fight. He is much bigger than me Mr Cole but I put him on the ground.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, he much bigger than me but I was angry and I punch him in the face. See how he like that the bastard. Is that what you see me about? It happen a long time ago.’
‘No, I didn’t come to see you about that, but what happened after your fight with Dragic?’
‘He go away and I didn’t see him again for a long time. And then one day they make a big fence across the road and a grader thing push a big wall of dirt behind it and I can’t use that road any more.’
‘That was a fair while ago.’
‘I don’t know how many year.’
‘Have you seen him more recently, say in the last few weeks?’
Cavallo screwed up his face. ‘No, I never seen him. If I do I put him on the fence too.’
‘I hope not,’ Cole said. ‘Anyway, you mightn’t have to worry about him any more. You heard about the Sandpiper burning down? Someone got caught up in the fire and we think it was Anton Dragic.’
‘Him killed?’
‘Dead.’
‘Then it serve him right. He probably doing bad things there like he always do.’
‘Have you got any proof of that?’
‘I don’t need none. He do everything wrong that man and now Jesus tell him come up here I want to talk to you. You know he a war criminal?’
‘No. Do you know that for a fact or is that just what people say?’
‘I don’t care what they says. You ask me, he’s a criminal.’
‘He’s never been convicted of anything as far as I know.’
‘You never caught him yet.’ Cavallo waved his arm dismissively. ‘He a criminal in his own country too. Yugoslavia. He fight with the Nazis. Now he come over here and make trouble.’
‘He lost his entire family over there, wife and child. People say he only fought with the Nazis because he had to, that they’d kill him and his family if he didn’t.’
‘Who say? He a bullshit Nazi. Pipple lose their family all the time. My wife lose a baby. You think that make her or me a criminal?’
‘No, Tito, but sometimes it explains things. Anyway, that whole council thing with that road going up in smoke. It’s over now so I guess everyone has to make the best of it, good or bad.’
‘Bad for me, bad for my cows. Now the pipple look at their windows straight at my cows. Bad for the milk.’
Cole thought he was that worked up there was no point pursuing the conversation. And here at least was one person who wouldn’t be turning up to Dragic’s funeral, unless to spit on his coffin.
*
Back at the station Cole almost walked straight into Janice.
‘Still got those ants in your pants?’ she asked. ‘What’s the hurry?’
‘Nothing in particular. Has the pathologist been in touch yet?’
‘As a matter of fact, he has,’ she answered, fishing a sheet of paper off her desk and handing it to him. ‘It looks like you were right. Again.’
The pathologist had confirmed that the dental records forwarded to him matched those of the deceased. It was Anton Dragic. His initial examination revealed no bullet wounds and no fractures, but there were further physical inquiries to follow.
‘Are the detectives back in yet?’ he asked.
‘Not yet. But I reckon you should be on their salary too Lloyd. I’ve got my money on you finding out what happened to Dragic well before Harley and whatisname do.’
‘I appreciate the endorsement,’ Cole said. ‘Can you ask Christine to come to my office when you see her please?’
He was seated at his desk as she came in.
‘I’ve just been to see Cavallo,’ he said. ‘Besides the fact he hated Dragic and they came to blows over him losing his access to a road, I don’t think there’s much to go on there. And by the way, it was Dragic caught in that fire. The bloke doing the post-mortem just let us know.’
‘That clears up one thing then,’ Sheridan said. ‘I’ve had a drive around all the petrol stations within twenty miles of here. That type of small drum we found at the fire is common all over the place, Golden Fleece and others like it. A lot of people use them as back up just in case they run out of petrol, especially on farms.’
‘The Weavers say they never kept petrol in the Sandpiper so that pretty much confirms it’s arson even without the specialists telling us it was. Have we had any luck yet in working out whether there’s any contactable family, or friends he was close to?’
‘Not yet, but I’ll keep asking. He seems to have been a lone wolf even though there was some association with the football club. He gave a bit of sponsorship money or something.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘I think it was in return for advertising the estate you’re building on.’
Cole grinned wryly. ‘You say it like I’m somehow responsible.’
She laughed, ‘Well, senior sergeant, I’m not ruling you in or out of anything just yet. I’ve got both eyes open. But seriously, if you call someone The Dragon, maybe it does mean that he’s someone to be afraid of. You know, Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf, or the big bad dragon?’
‘And I’ve asked for permission to blow his house down. Once I get that we’ll get into his house and see what we can see, if he or someone else hasn’t already wiped their tracks clean. But what you said earlier about Dragic being a hit with the ladies. What’s that based on?’
Sheridan screwed up her face. ‘Which ever way you look at him, he was a handsome man in a foreign kind of way. And there are women who will forgive a handsome man a multitude of sins. The fact that he was originally from somewhere else, the war story, adds to that mysterious element too.’
‘Counteracted by the violent element and the drug dealing element.’
‘People see what they want to in a person. You’re still convinced he was murdered?’
‘I am.’
‘Then how do you explain him being in a locked toilet?’
‘I couldn’t vouch for it myself, but Ben tells me there was a gap of about a foot of clear space under each cubicle. You could stick you head underneath the door or walls and see who was in there, if you were inclined to do that. Someone could have dragged him in, sat him on the toilet, locked the door and then wriggled underneath into the next cubicle. It was the middle one of three he was found in.’
‘And all that without anyone noticing when there were people all over the place?’
He smiled. ‘That’s the bit I haven’t worked out yet.’
‘Maybe he was mixed up with the Mafia. We know they’re at work around here, even if we can’t nail anyone for it. And the cabaret, the masks and so on. Drama, Carnivale, crime and corruption. It’s as Italian as spaghetti. Maybe Cavallo was involved with that as well. Perhaps there was a falling out that was nothing to do with a right of way but about something much more serious. It wasn’t as though Cavallo had his own land stolen from him.’
‘I think Cavallo objects to the principle of the thing.’
‘And here’s another idea. If we approach it from a totally different angle — what if Dragic had some issue going back to the war, and it finally caught up with him?’
‘That’d be a long shot, but it’s not something we should rule out just yet either, speaking of ruling in or out. The thing is, we hardly know anything about him.’
‘We know even less about who killed him.’
‘So far, Chris, so far.’ Cole pondered. ‘But here’s a question for you. We know he used to be one of the hardest workers in the district when he first came here. Apparently no one carted more bales of hay in a day than him. But in recent years he seems to have left all that hard, physical work behind him. Which you can understand in a way, no one can do that kind of work forever. But then what has he been doing in the last five years or so when he hasn’t been holding down any kind of regular job that we’re aware of? And tied to that, how does he get the sort of money needed to bankroll a housing development?’
