the seat on her right.
Andreessen cleared his throat. ‘First of all, I’m going to say that losing Scotty like this is fucked,’ he said. ‘Every one of us here in this station loved him. Big bastard was like a son to me. But Scotty has a father. He has a mother and a stepfather and a sister, Rhiannon.’
Silence.
‘Now, I know all of you want to get out there and find the cunt that did this,’ Andreessen went on. ‘I know most of you know what happened now, but we’re going to go through it again, adding in some new findings. This shit is hard to say, and it’s hard to hear. We’ve got the shrink coming in this arvo to talk to all of us. She’ll be here, in this room, at three.’
Groans.
‘That’s bullshit, Captain,’ sang out Moses. ‘How we gonna work if we’ve gotta be back here at three?’
‘Make yourselves available,’ Andreessen said. ‘Superintendent Last is going to conduct the briefing, but before I hand over to him, I just want to welcome one of our federal cop brothers ... ah, colleagues.’ Andreessen cleared his throat again and nodded in Gabriel’s direction. ‘This is Special Agent Gabriel Delahunt.’ Heads swivelled. Jill studied the desk. ‘The Feds will be working with us on this one because of the similarities of this murder with the Caine murder at Incendie last Thursday.’
But why bring the Feds in? wondered Jill. Two possibly related murders didn’t automatically mean they had to be involved. These weren’t crimes against the Commonwealth. Was there some organised crime component here? She watched Last shuffle his way to the centre of the room. Organised crime? What would they get out of a hit on an old woman? Was she the wrong person’s mother? She’d met David Caine. No way he was mobbed-up. And Scotty said he had no sheet.
She snuck a peek at Gabe. He was watching her. Lawrence Last began to speak and she faced the front.
‘I’d like to offer you detectives my heartfelt condolences on losing one of your own,’ began Superintendent Last. ‘I am really terribly, terribly sorry. I promise you we will deploy any and every available resource to deliver justice to Detective Hutchinson’s family, friends and colleagues.’
Jill remembered feeling surprised when she’d first heard Last speak. She’d expected a lot of noise from someone so tall. But Last’s quiet, mannerly voice carried, even in the large briefing room. She’d never heard anyone try to interrupt him. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water.
‘This is very difficult for me to say, and it will be hard for you to hear,’ said Last. He paused, the room completely silent. ‘Yesterday, at eleven hundred hours, Detective Hutchinson was stopped at the lights on the corner of Anzac Parade and Maroubra Road, on his way back to Maroubra Area Command. While he was stationary, an improvised incendiary weapon, most likely a Molotov cocktail, was thrown by an unknown suspect through the open passenger-side window of his vehicle. Burns evidence suggests that the device landed in Detective Hutchinson’s lap and exploded, igniting his clothing.
‘It appears Detective Hutchinson may have reacted in shock or passed out, or his foot has slipped onto the accelerator. In any event, witnesses report that his vehicle ran the red light, and a city-bound bus collided with it, the impact point being the midsection of the car, passenger’s side. This impact rotated the vehicle one-hundred and eighty degrees, propelling it into oncoming traffic on Anzac Parade, resulting in a head-on collision with a sedan. Detective Hutchinson and the civilian were both trapped, but it’s believed that Scotty most likely lost his life when his vehicle was hit by the bus.
‘A passerby has used the fire-extinguisher from the bus to put out the fire in Hutchinson’s vehicle within five minutes of the cars coming to rest. The civilian in the passenger car, a young woman, is in a satisfactory condition in the Prince of Wales
Andreessen cleared his throat. ‘First of all, I’m going to say that losing Scotty like this is fucked,’ he said. ‘Every one of us here in this station loved him. Big bastard was like a son to me. But Scotty has a father. He has a mother and a stepfather and a sister, Rhiannon.’
Silence.
‘Now, I know all of you want to get out there and find the cunt that did this,’ Andreessen went on. ‘I know most of you know what happened now, but we’re going to go through it again, adding in some new findings. This shit is hard to say, and it’s hard to hear. We’ve got the shrink coming in this arvo to talk to all of us. She’ll be here, in this room, at three.’
Groans.
‘That’s bullshit, Captain,’ sang out Moses. ‘How we gonna work if we’ve gotta be back here at three?’
‘Make yourselves available,’ Andreessen said. ‘Superintendent Last is going to conduct the briefing, but before I hand over to him, I just want to welcome one of our federal cop brothers ... ah, colleagues.’ Andreessen cleared his throat again and nodded in Gabriel’s direction. ‘This is Special Agent Gabriel Delahunt.’ Heads swivelled. Jill studied the desk. ‘The Feds will be working with us on this one because of the similarities of this murder with the Caine murder at Incendie last Thursday.’
But why bring the Feds in? wondered Jill. Two possibly related murders didn’t automatically mean they had to be involved. These weren’t crimes against the Commonwealth. Was there some organised crime component here? She watched Last shuffle his way to the centre of the room. Organised crime? What would they get out of a hit on an old woman? Was she the wrong person’s mother? She’d met David Caine. No way he was mobbed-up. And Scotty said he had no sheet.
She snuck a peek at Gabe. He was watching her. Lawrence Last began to speak and she faced the front.
‘I’d like to offer you detectives my heartfelt condolences on losing one of your own,’ began Superintendent Last. ‘I am really terribly, terribly sorry. I promise you we will deploy any and every available resource to deliver justice to Detective Hutchinson’s family, friends and colleagues.’
Jill remembered feeling surprised when she’d first heard Last speak. She’d expected a lot of noise from someone so tall. But Last’s quiet, mannerly voice carried, even in the large briefing room. She’d never heard anyone try to interrupt him. He cleared his throat and took a sip of water.
‘This is very difficult for me to say, and it will be hard for you to hear,’ said Last. He paused, the room completely silent. ‘Yesterday, at eleven hundred hours, Detective Hutchinson was stopped at the lights on the corner of Anzac Parade and Maroubra Road, on his way back to Maroubra Area Command. While he was stationary, an improvised incendiary weapon, most likely a Molotov cocktail, was thrown by an unknown suspect through the open passenger-side window of his vehicle. Burns evidence suggests that the device landed in Detective Hutchinson’s lap and exploded, igniting his clothing.
‘It appears Detective Hutchinson may have reacted in shock or passed out, or his foot has slipped onto the accelerator. In any event, witnesses report that his vehicle ran the red light, and a city-bound bus collided with it, the impact point being the midsection of the car, passenger’s side. This impact rotated the vehicle one-hundred and eighty degrees, propelling it into oncoming traffic on Anzac Parade, resulting in a head-on collision with a sedan. Detective Hutchinson and the civilian were both trapped, but it’s believed that Scotty most likely lost his life when his vehicle was hit by the bus.
‘A passerby has used the fire-extinguisher from the bus to put out the fire in Hutchinson’s vehicle within five minutes of the cars coming to rest. The civilian in the passenger car, a young woman, is in a satisfactory condition in the Prince of Wales
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