again, as though she'd imagined it.
'May we come in, sir?'
'No.'
'Perhaps we could talk out here then,' Pam suggested.
'All right.'
He came out, passing close to Pam so that she could smell him, a not-unpleasant mix of the morning's shampoo and shaving cream, perspiration, diesel fuel and something familiar yet harder to place. Some kind of oil?
She froze. Gun oil.
'What's this about?' he said mildly.
'An RSPCA inspector by the name of Clive Fenwick alleges that you assaulted him,' Tankard said.
'No he doesn't. And I didn't,' Munro said. Then he smiled, a dismissive half-smile, showing more gums than teeth, waiting as if he had all the time in the world.
'But you did threaten him?' Pam said.
'His word against mine. Little jumped-up office clerk.'
'You kicked him,' Tankard said.
'Look,' Munro said, glancing at his watch. 'I'm busy. If there's nothing more…'
'Booted him in the arse.'
'Did he own up to that? A grown man?'
They were getting nowhere. 'Sir,' Pam said, 'a kick is a kick. It can be construed as assault. Did you or didn't you—'
'Is the prick pressing charges?'
'Well, no, but that's not the point. Did—'
'Goodbye,' Munro said, and he walked calmly, economically, back through his screen door and into the inner darkness.
They returned to Waterloo, passing the snake in the grass again. This time he seemed to be pissing against a tree. Then the radio was squawking. Something about the library and pornography, and would they deal with it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Scobie drove them from the aerodrome back to Waterloo. 'So what next?'
'We search Munro's farm,' Ellen said. 'The whole kit and caboodle—paddocks, sheds, house, motor vehicles, the works.'
Scobie nodded. 'With armed backup.'
From his seat in the rear of the car, Challis leaned into the gap between the front seats. 'Why? Do we know him?'
Scobie nodded. 'Threatening behaviour, a couple of minor assaults, brandishing a weapon, mostly against bank officials and shire inspectors.'
'What kind of weapon?'
'Shotgun.'
They fell silent.
Then Ellen took out her mobile phone and called ahead to get the paperwork started on a search warrant. She finished with a call to Kellock. It was a long conversation and Challis tuned out until she angrily shut and pocketed the phone, saying, 'Pompous prick.'
'What did he say?'
'He can
probably
let us have Tankard and Murphy. He asked how long before we called on Munro. I said as long as it took to get a warrant and work out a plan of action. He said how long would that be. I said as soon as possible—an hour, two hours. He said Tankard and Murphy are working on a job at the moment and get off at four today. I said have you got anyone working later than four today? He said no. I said we'll try to finish before four. He said, and I quote: "It would be only fair on my officers if you did."
His
officers.
They
can't stand the man.' She paused. 'Actually, he said that Tankard and Murphy were at Munro's a short time ago. Something about an assault on an RSPCA inspector.' She glanced at Scobie. 'So that fits in with what you told us.'
'Let's hope they didn't get Munro's back up,' Challis said. 'Do we know where they are now?'
'Gone to the library.'
'Library?'
'Someone's been logging on to porn sites.'
Challis saw Scobie Sutton shake his head. He guessed what the detective was thinking: there are traps for children around every corner and how can you possibly anticipate them?
He yawned. With the warmth and motion of the CIB car, he gazed sleepily through the window and began to wool-gather. He could see the BHP smokestacks in the distance, furniture barns and muffler shops closer to. But Waterloo always threw up incongruities. There was an inner-city style delicatessen in the main street and just now they were passing a showroom full of beautifully crafted blackwood, teak, jarrah and Huon pine tables, chairs and sideboards. And just last week he'd met an installer of solar-heated swimming pools who was in demand
'May we come in, sir?'
'No.'
'Perhaps we could talk out here then,' Pam suggested.
'All right.'
He came out, passing close to Pam so that she could smell him, a not-unpleasant mix of the morning's shampoo and shaving cream, perspiration, diesel fuel and something familiar yet harder to place. Some kind of oil?
She froze. Gun oil.
'What's this about?' he said mildly.
'An RSPCA inspector by the name of Clive Fenwick alleges that you assaulted him,' Tankard said.
'No he doesn't. And I didn't,' Munro said. Then he smiled, a dismissive half-smile, showing more gums than teeth, waiting as if he had all the time in the world.
'But you did threaten him?' Pam said.
'His word against mine. Little jumped-up office clerk.'
'You kicked him,' Tankard said.
'Look,' Munro said, glancing at his watch. 'I'm busy. If there's nothing more…'
'Booted him in the arse.'
'Did he own up to that? A grown man?'
They were getting nowhere. 'Sir,' Pam said, 'a kick is a kick. It can be construed as assault. Did you or didn't you—'
'Is the prick pressing charges?'
'Well, no, but that's not the point. Did—'
'Goodbye,' Munro said, and he walked calmly, economically, back through his screen door and into the inner darkness.
They returned to Waterloo, passing the snake in the grass again. This time he seemed to be pissing against a tree. Then the radio was squawking. Something about the library and pornography, and would they deal with it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Scobie drove them from the aerodrome back to Waterloo. 'So what next?'
'We search Munro's farm,' Ellen said. 'The whole kit and caboodle—paddocks, sheds, house, motor vehicles, the works.'
Scobie nodded. 'With armed backup.'
From his seat in the rear of the car, Challis leaned into the gap between the front seats. 'Why? Do we know him?'
Scobie nodded. 'Threatening behaviour, a couple of minor assaults, brandishing a weapon, mostly against bank officials and shire inspectors.'
'What kind of weapon?'
'Shotgun.'
They fell silent.
Then Ellen took out her mobile phone and called ahead to get the paperwork started on a search warrant. She finished with a call to Kellock. It was a long conversation and Challis tuned out until she angrily shut and pocketed the phone, saying, 'Pompous prick.'
'What did he say?'
'He can
probably
let us have Tankard and Murphy. He asked how long before we called on Munro. I said as long as it took to get a warrant and work out a plan of action. He said how long would that be. I said as soon as possible—an hour, two hours. He said Tankard and Murphy are working on a job at the moment and get off at four today. I said have you got anyone working later than four today? He said no. I said we'll try to finish before four. He said, and I quote: "It would be only fair on my officers if you did."
His
officers.
They
can't stand the man.' She paused. 'Actually, he said that Tankard and Murphy were at Munro's a short time ago. Something about an assault on an RSPCA inspector.' She glanced at Scobie. 'So that fits in with what you told us.'
'Let's hope they didn't get Munro's back up,' Challis said. 'Do we know where they are now?'
'Gone to the library.'
'Library?'
'Someone's been logging on to porn sites.'
Challis saw Scobie Sutton shake his head. He guessed what the detective was thinking: there are traps for children around every corner and how can you possibly anticipate them?
He yawned. With the warmth and motion of the CIB car, he gazed sleepily through the window and began to wool-gather. He could see the BHP smokestacks in the distance, furniture barns and muffler shops closer to. But Waterloo always threw up incongruities. There was an inner-city style delicatessen in the main street and just now they were passing a showroom full of beautifully crafted blackwood, teak, jarrah and Huon pine tables, chairs and sideboards. And just last week he'd met an installer of solar-heated swimming pools who was in demand
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