A Failure to Act, page 21
Parker thought for a moment. "Alright. Let's say it was a generous gift and move on."
He sensed the man relax a little, then continued, "You're the emergency backup officer for the Lakeside facility, aren't you?"
The question caught Dixon off-guard. "Yes, but you know that; it's your project."
Parker had baited the hook. "Correct. But we have a problem with the Lakeside attack. Just before he died the officer on duty told me something. No-one but my team knows about it, but I'm telling you. The attackers had the day code."
Parker noticed a bead of sweat forming at the man's temple and the veins on his neck swell slightly.
"Now this is what I know,” Parker went on, “A police officer was involved in a man's death in Coldstream. He was also in contact with underworld characters who are now being investigated by my team. Also, the man killed in Coldstream organised the attacks on the Lakeside facility and the CPMU."
Dixon’s rising panic was clear to all as Parker pressed the point.
"This cop has the blood of two of our VicPol family on his hands, that we know of. He may also have information about the kidnapping of Dianne White."
The sweat on Dixon's brow moved down his face as he fired back, slamming his hand on the table in defiance. "Hang on, Parker! First you tell me this cock and bull story about the CPMU and the lake facility, which contradicts all the official reports. Then you suggest I know something about White’s disappearance? What sort of stitch-up is this?"
The two OPI officers looked at Parker in astonishment as he continued calmly.
Parker had to establish his position quickly. "It's all true, guys, and as of now if you breathe a word of it to anyone, including your bosses, it will be the Commissioner, not me, you'll have to deal with."
Returning his attention to Dixon, he went on. "You say it's a stitch-up. Well I might have thought so too, but we can account for the other people who had the day code. Two work for me and one died in the CPMU, which just leaves you. As I recall you were recommended for that role, weren't you?"
Dixon, thinking he had an ace in the hole, became more self-assured. "Yeah that's right – by Inspector Steve Jones. What about it?"
Parker slapped the table and said, "And there it is – Steve Jones, mister high-flying, ladder-climbing pin-up boy, and the cop I can tie to all of what I just told you bar White's kidnapping. Now I don't think it’ll take me too long to find a link between you two and then, mate, you are going down as an accessory to all of this."
Dixon paled visibly and slumped in his chair. He knew he was beaten. Parker had set the hook and he’d taken the bait.
Parker seized the opportunity. "Now you have two choices: keep your mouth shut and get what's coming, or be smart and cooperate. That may well make a difference to how you live out the rest of your life."
Dixon capitulated. "I want a deal. Secure prison with a reduced term."
"Tell me what you have and we'll see."
For the next hour Dixon described the way Steve Jones had befriended him after his wife's death, making him believe he felt some genuine concern for his situation. Over the following six months they built a strong friendship. One day, after they'd been out on a big night, Jones had visited him at home and presented him with a set of photos. They were highly incriminating, showing him partying with several local Melbourne crime lords. Some showed him using cocaine, and there were others of a sexual nature showing him taking part in an orgy involving both men and women. Jones had explained that his old boss had been on the take, and that he had the evidence the money given to him was a planned bribe to be used as leverage at a later time. He was over a barrel from then on, and Jones’ last request was for the day code. Dixon swore he was told it was only meant to be a robbery to get the drugs back from the vault.
Parker had heard enough. He advised the OPI officers to arrange for Dixon to go into protective custody until further notice. Nothing that had been said was to go into any official record until he approved it, and the Commissioner would square it away with their bosses.
After that he left the office, walked to a secluded part of the complex and out onto a balcony that overlooked the cityscape – and called Edwards.
"Paul, I don't care where he is or what he's doing, I want Steve Jones in an office in our area yesterday. That prick has a lot to answer for!"
Chapter 25
No matter what you hear
Parker, together with Blackwell, had stopped for fuel and refreshments in Benalla while en route to Bright in the state’s northeast. Enjoying a bottle of water in the sun before they got back on the road, he felt his phone buzz and heard the muted ring tone alerting him to an incoming message and fumbled for the phone in his pocket.
He had learned earlier that morning that Dianne was alive and in the Bright area. He didn’t, however, know the exact location or how long she had left. All he knew was that he had to get a move on.
Parker reflected on the chain of events had led him here. Matching the tread pattern of the high performance prototype from Millers Farm to Steve Jones’ vehicle and Dixon’s revelations confirmed their suspicions when his car was identified on tollway surveillance. The final nail in the coffin was when Edwards’ contact at the service station in Lilydale confirmed Jones had been there. They had copies of the CCTV vision from there and from Joanna's Bakery, where Jones had entered with two other men.
Now, with all the evidence ready, Jones had been called to a meeting with Parker and Blackwell.
Entering the office Jones sat down, relaxed. He was expecting the usual catch-up on operations in which they were both involved, and a briefing on the CPMU investigation. He’d heard what had been released within police circles about Dianne’s disappearance. He needed more though, so he and Amy could stay ahead of the task force. He acknowledged Blackwell sitting off to one side and noticed that Parker seemed tense, not his usual laid-back self.
Having just revisited the CCTV vision of the abduction, to say that Parker was not in a good mood was an understatement. He stood, moved around the table and dropped a bundle of files in front of Jones, startling him.
"You and I need to have a chat."
From the menace in Parker's voice Jones knew how the chat was going to pan out.
"I'll talk. You listen," said Parker, silencing Jones with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"You need to tell me what your relationship with Amy Devain is, and you need to tell me now!"
"What relationship?" Jones protested. "I don't..." As he spoke, Parker grabbed another manila file and slammed it back down on the desk.
"Don't bullshit me, Steve," Parker exploded, "I have enough here to drag you into the OPI in leg irons, but I'm going to give you a chance to talk to me first."
Parker opened the file that contained images Jones recognised as Amy's penthouse. "OK, let's begin with these."
Jones understood now. Parker had something on him. He quickly thought about how he could deflect whatever was coming.
"We received all this as an anonymous submission from a member of the public."
Parker knew he was lying but Jones didn't. He would run with it for now. Jones didn't know the evidence was inadmissible at this stage, but the threat was enough to rattle his cage.
"This individual has had Amy Devain under surveillance for some time now."
Selecting an image from the brief, Parker continued, "Imagine my surprise when I opened it and found this," Parker flicked across the table an image of Jones and Devain having sex.
Jones paled before going on the defensive. "So what if I was screwing her? It's nothing more than that!"
"True, but when the photo and video evidence show you’ve been associating with known criminals at Devain's for a considerable period, things look a bit suss."
Opening another folder, "Then there are your more recent activities."
Jones, trying to derail the chat, lashed out, "If all you have is me screwing Amy Devain and Amy having some not-so-reputable business associates, then you have nothing. I'm not hanging about while you try to lynch me." He stood as if to leave.
"True, but we still need to talk about Millers Farm, the Lakeside facility and the CPMU," Parker paused. "Oh, and Dianne White's disappearance. So I suggest you sit down.... Now!"
"Shame about Stowne. He was OK," Jones remarked, trying to sound casual. "He died in a practice crash. It could happen to any of us. What do I have to do with that? And how in hell do you get to suggest I had something to do with your missing girlfriend?" Trying to bait Parker into a response with no success.
Parker remained composed. "Well, suggested accident."
His tone was measured. "Stowne crashes and burns to death in his car. A terrible accident, no witnesses, and any evidence destroyed. That’s what the reports said, right Steve?"
Parker looked for a reaction before continuing. With nothing forthcoming he pressed on. "When I release the actual report, it will say this. But you just need the bullet points."
"It wasn't an accident. Now there's a surprise. The fire was fierce but the car was untouched. And saving the best for last, Stowne didn't burn." Jones squirmed almost imperceptibly in his chair, Parker noticed.
"The post mortem report found that it was murder, the cause of death an embolism caused by an air bubble injected into a vein – not the crash or the fire."
Parker dragged another picture from the file and dropped it on the table. It was an image of Stowne's body on the coroner's slab.
"I ordered the information suppressed when we discovered the marks on his wrists were, in fact, made by zip ties, and a needle puncture in a vein hidden by the marks. The murderers staged the scene to make it look like an accident." Parker saw Jones flinch.
"What Stowne's killers didn't know was that the car had fuel issues, so Joe installed a temporary fuel pump under the bonnet for the test session. Its power cable came straight off the kill switch. Whoever staged the scene knew little about car preparation. If they did, they would’ve seen that someone had already disconnected the rear pumps from the tank."
"Once they'd pushed the car down the embankment," Parker dropped another photo in front of Jones, "You can see here that the car's tyre marks show they rolled it straight back. It didn't spear off the road."
"They poured fuel into the open boot and ignited it, expecting the fire would destroy the car. But Joe hadn’t replaced several drain bungs and most of the fuel drained out, starting a reasonable grass fire which the killers mistook for the car. Bloody fire almost got Dianne and me. It did, however, make the report of a fire much easier to fake. One more thing – a new extinguisher system had been fitted. That saved the car from any damage, leaving us a complete crime scene to work."
Trying to think on his feet, Jones retaliated, "So what's that got to do with me?"
Parker selected another image and tossed it on the growing pile. Jones saw it was a tyre tread impression.
"We found this on the access road near the gate to Miller's Farm. I knew I'd seen it, but for the life of me I couldn't remember where. While examining some evidence this morning I realised where I'd seen it before. I had an associate do some digging for me."
He dropped onto the table an enlarged image of a tyre with the same tread pattern. Jones looked at the image and shrugged.
"What do you want from me, Parker? I'm no tyre expert."
Parker had him now, "No, that's right, Steve, you’re not an expert. You should know about these ones though." He dropped another image onto the table. “Recognise the car?"
Jones slumped a little as the larger image showed his private vehicle with the tyres displayed.
"You shouldn't go around bragging about having Amy Devain's evaluation tyres fitted to your car, then use them when you kill someone. Especially as you told us all how they were the only set in the southern hemisphere!"
Parker turned from the table to let his words sink in.
"I've wondered for some time why many of my operations over the last 12 months have not been delivering the expected results. I’d considered the possibility there might be a leak in the organisation, but didn’t want to believe it. Other than my team, you, Steve, were the only person privy to all the operational details and had the perfect opportunity to pass them onto Devain during your pillow talk. This allowed both of you to disrupt things enough to slow me down to a crawl." Parker felt himself getting wound up and stopped to regroup.
Jones exploded. "A few photos of me shacking up with Amy Devain and pictures of my car. You know I let friends use my car all the time. They all have the code to the key safe, so anyone could’ve had my car. That's pretty bloody flimsy, Parker, even for you."
A mobile phone rang. Jones reached into his pocket.
Parker turned to Blackwell. "Go on, take your call. I can use a breather."
Jones removed the phone and hung up on the caller, saying, "Not important. I can handle it later," and replaced the phone in his coat.
"Flimsy, you say. As usual, Steve, you overrate your ability to avoid problems."
"Let me lay this out. One – we have CCTV of you at the BP service station in Lilydale. Two – Frazier identified you, says you had quite a chat when you paid for the fuel. Three – we have more CCTV of you together with your mate and another man at Joanna's Bakery in Coldstream before the Millers Farm accident."
Jones became stressed as Parker continued, "Oh yeah, the last thing, and by no means the least, you just received and hung up on a call from Stowne's burner phone... Isn't that right, Greg?"
Jones spun around in panic, only to see Greg Blackwell holding up the mobile phone. "You mean this one? Should I call it again to be sure?"
Parker, hands placed on the table, addressed Jones, staring him right in the eyes. "So far we have you for corruption, leaking information, not to mention murder or, at the very least, accessory to murder. Mate, I would prepare myself for a change of accommodation, most likely much smaller room, solitary, and for a very long time. You wouldn't last five minutes in Gen Pop. Why did you do it, Steve? Why?"
As if on cue, the office door opened and Russ Hooper stuck his head in. "Dave, can I have a moment outside please?"
Parker motioned to Blackwell, "Grab a note pad and see if he feels like talking now." He left the office.
"This better be important, Russ. I had that bastard nailed." Hooper took the rebuff, realising the strain Parker was under.
"I think you need to see this CCTV vision from an incident last night."
Hooper turned on a laptop as he spoke and loaded the video file. The footage from local council street cams appeared to be of a deserted street in a sprawling industrial park. Hooper advanced the video about an hour.
"Sorry, this just came in. It’s raw feed, unedited."
The video restarted, showing the front of one building erupting into a ball of fire and smoke. The large front windows blew out, sending debris across the road, almost taking out a dark vehicle parked just up and across from the building. Then, out of the carnage, a figure dressed in red overalls appeared and, trying to leave the scene, was surprised by another man. There was a significant struggle, with the smaller person finally gaining the upper hand. Several well-placed punches and kicks left the bloke unconscious on the ground and the overalled figure moved off again.
The image was at a distance, and while impressed with the fight, the defensive techniques used were familiar. Parker looked at Hooper. "Why am I watching this? How does it relate to our investigation, Russ?"
Hooper zoomed in on the overalled figure. "Here's why."
Parker grabbed Hoopers' arm. "Dianne! Where is she Hooper? Is she OK?"
"We don't know... But you need to watch the rest of the video."
Parker's relief was evident, but the nagging image of Dianne's attacker gnawed at him. "Russ, before we do, just wind back and zoom in on the guy who jumped Dianne, please."
They rolled the vision back and zoomed in on her attacker.
"Christ, I thought he was familiar. He's the bloke on the CCTV with Jones on the way to Miller's Farm. OK, play the rest, then I need to have a further discussion with Jones!"
They continued viewing feeds from several cameras, not yet spliced into a continuous sequence.
He saw Dianne move off from the scene. The car, which had been across the road from the blast but left as the struggle began, had now returned. Dianne greeted the driver with familiarity and jumped into the car, which then drove off. Several minutes elapsed and the car reappeared on a different camera feed. It was pulled up in a lane where several large men and a woman appeared out of a second SUV. He saw Dianne, after her rescuer pulled a gun on her, manhandled into the rear seat of the other car. The female spent a few minutes with Dianne's so-called saviour. They embraced, spoke for a minute, then returned to their cars and left.
Before Parker could speak Hooper rolled back the video. He zoomed in on the couple and the goons grabbing Dianne. As the figures became larger Hooper pointed at the screen. "That SUV is a close match to the one used to abduct Dianne. I reckon you know who those two are."
As the image clarified, Parker stared at the screen. He turned and was about to re-enter the office before turning back to Hooper.
"No matter what you hear, no-one comes in until I come out." Hooper nodded, knowing he could do nothing to alter the outcome as Parker closed the door behind him after re-entering the room.
Jones, still sitting at the table, glanced as Parker came in. From there on the speed of events overtook him as Parker hauled him from the chair, flinging him across the table against the opposite wall. The pain in his shoulder suggested a significant injury. He rolled over and saw Parker advancing through the cloud of papers and photos from the files sent flying. Parker dragged him to his feet and rammed him into the table. He felt a rib give. Somewhere in the background he could hear Blackwell yelling, "David, what the hell are you doing?"
