beaming.
‘Late night lights on the boat ramp at Starvo,’ said Jim Buckley cupping his chin thoughtfully in his right fist. ‘That could be the turning point in this case.’
Greg Fisher nodded enthusiastically until he realised that Buckley was being sarcastic. Cato didn’t want the meeting to sink into oblivion just yet.
‘The old guy, the fisherman...’
‘Mather?’ offered Greg.
‘Yeah, he didn’t mention any lights?’
Greg shrugged. ‘Asleep? Bit deaf? Forgot?’
‘Maybe, or, for all you know, lying, or hiding something. Can you get back to him and double-check?’
Fisher blushed. ‘Sure.’
Fisher wrapped up his report and beat a hasty retreat. No, he hadn’t got around to checking out shipping movements yet but yes, he would get onto it now, talk to a few boaties around town, and get back to Mather about those lights.
Next it was Cato’s turn. He told them about the mispers list and the two of interest to him – Riri Yusala and, to a lesser extent, the closet Italian gay Carlo Donizetti. That raised a smirk from an otherwise dour Jim Buckley. There were contact numbers for the case officers assigned to the two mispers, one in Perth for Donizetti, and Yusala’s in Albany: DI Mick Hutchens’ turf. Cato would followup on that today. Tess Maguire met his eye. He couldn’t read the look, it was as if she hardly knew him. Private. Keep Out.
‘I’ll be following up on the mine fight,’ Tess said, ‘Talking to Kane Stevenson and some of those other names we took. I’ll be on that for most of the day.’
Tess’s expression challenged Cato to say it ain’t so. He didn’t. Jim Buckley asked her if she wanted him there for the Stevenson interview. She didn’t. He looked surprisingly disappointed.
Tess left for Ravensthorpe. Greg Fisher was already on the phone checking shipping. Cato gave Buckley the number for the Donizetti case officer, keeping Riri Yusala and the Albany office for himself. He rang the number.
‘Julie Silvestri, Albany Detectives.’
The voice at the other end of the phone sounded like it was being channelled through a soggy mattress. Cato introduced himself and told her what he wanted. She took a moment to find the case on her computer; Cato could hear the clicking of the keyboard and heavy mouth-breathing. Julie Silvestri had a cold.
‘Here it is,’ she croaked, ‘Riri Yusala, missing since ... February 2006. Looks like he jumped ship here at Albany ... naval exercises ... whaling ship ... I assume you’ve already read all this?’
Cato confirmed that he had and asked what else she could tell him about the case.
‘Wife and two kids back in ... Sulawesi?’ Not easy to say with a head cold.
‘Yes, I read that too,’ said Cato.
A few more keyboard clicks. ‘A couple of unconfirmed sightings: the first, a month or so after he disappeared. It was on a building site in Perth, a security guard with aspirations to be Sam Spade. Trawls mispers sites for a hobby, sad bastard. Anyway that’s how he recognised him, or thought he did. Reckoned he was doing some labouring on the hush-hush. If it was him he’d moved on by the time we had it checked out and whoever it was also had a new name ... Freddy Sudhyono. The foreman couldn’t confirm anything from the picture. “They all look the same,” he said.’
‘And the second sighting?’
‘Fremantle Markets: another month later. Somebody reckoned they saw him working at the satay stall there. A bit more credence to that one.’ Julie Silvestri snuffled and seemed to catch some mucous in her throat.
Cato winced at the noise. ‘Why?’
‘The guy who saw him was on leave from the Australian Navy, he’d been on the same ship as Yusala. He was sure it was him but he didn’t report it until about six weeks later. He hadn’t realised Yusala was deemed a missing person until he went into his local cop shop to collect his son who’d been picked up for underage drinking or something. Saw the Missing Persons
‘Late night lights on the boat ramp at Starvo,’ said Jim Buckley cupping his chin thoughtfully in his right fist. ‘That could be the turning point in this case.’
Greg Fisher nodded enthusiastically until he realised that Buckley was being sarcastic. Cato didn’t want the meeting to sink into oblivion just yet.
‘The old guy, the fisherman...’
‘Mather?’ offered Greg.
‘Yeah, he didn’t mention any lights?’
Greg shrugged. ‘Asleep? Bit deaf? Forgot?’
‘Maybe, or, for all you know, lying, or hiding something. Can you get back to him and double-check?’
Fisher blushed. ‘Sure.’
Fisher wrapped up his report and beat a hasty retreat. No, he hadn’t got around to checking out shipping movements yet but yes, he would get onto it now, talk to a few boaties around town, and get back to Mather about those lights.
Next it was Cato’s turn. He told them about the mispers list and the two of interest to him – Riri Yusala and, to a lesser extent, the closet Italian gay Carlo Donizetti. That raised a smirk from an otherwise dour Jim Buckley. There were contact numbers for the case officers assigned to the two mispers, one in Perth for Donizetti, and Yusala’s in Albany: DI Mick Hutchens’ turf. Cato would followup on that today. Tess Maguire met his eye. He couldn’t read the look, it was as if she hardly knew him. Private. Keep Out.
‘I’ll be following up on the mine fight,’ Tess said, ‘Talking to Kane Stevenson and some of those other names we took. I’ll be on that for most of the day.’
Tess’s expression challenged Cato to say it ain’t so. He didn’t. Jim Buckley asked her if she wanted him there for the Stevenson interview. She didn’t. He looked surprisingly disappointed.
Tess left for Ravensthorpe. Greg Fisher was already on the phone checking shipping. Cato gave Buckley the number for the Donizetti case officer, keeping Riri Yusala and the Albany office for himself. He rang the number.
‘Julie Silvestri, Albany Detectives.’
The voice at the other end of the phone sounded like it was being channelled through a soggy mattress. Cato introduced himself and told her what he wanted. She took a moment to find the case on her computer; Cato could hear the clicking of the keyboard and heavy mouth-breathing. Julie Silvestri had a cold.
‘Here it is,’ she croaked, ‘Riri Yusala, missing since ... February 2006. Looks like he jumped ship here at Albany ... naval exercises ... whaling ship ... I assume you’ve already read all this?’
Cato confirmed that he had and asked what else she could tell him about the case.
‘Wife and two kids back in ... Sulawesi?’ Not easy to say with a head cold.
‘Yes, I read that too,’ said Cato.
A few more keyboard clicks. ‘A couple of unconfirmed sightings: the first, a month or so after he disappeared. It was on a building site in Perth, a security guard with aspirations to be Sam Spade. Trawls mispers sites for a hobby, sad bastard. Anyway that’s how he recognised him, or thought he did. Reckoned he was doing some labouring on the hush-hush. If it was him he’d moved on by the time we had it checked out and whoever it was also had a new name ... Freddy Sudhyono. The foreman couldn’t confirm anything from the picture. “They all look the same,” he said.’
‘And the second sighting?’
‘Fremantle Markets: another month later. Somebody reckoned they saw him working at the satay stall there. A bit more credence to that one.’ Julie Silvestri snuffled and seemed to catch some mucous in her throat.
Cato winced at the noise. ‘Why?’
‘The guy who saw him was on leave from the Australian Navy, he’d been on the same ship as Yusala. He was sure it was him but he didn’t report it until about six weeks later. He hadn’t realised Yusala was deemed a missing person until he went into his local cop shop to collect his son who’d been picked up for underage drinking or something. Saw the Missing Persons
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