The Holiday Murders by Robert Gott Page B

Detective Sergeant Sable to the Glaciarium this morning. What you are wearing will be perfectly suitable.’
    Still, Helen said nothing.
    ‘Aren’t you a little bit curious about this?’ Joe asked.
    ‘I assume you’ll tell me what it’s about when you’re ready to. I also assume that I’ve just passed some sort of test.’
    Joe looked at Titus. He was worried that this little expression of disrespect might cause Titus to choose a different constable.
    ‘I don’t think curiosity is a weakness, Constable,’ Titus said, ‘but I think your instinct as to when to suppress it is a strength. What we want you to do isn’t dangerous, but I want you to understand that it is outside your normal duties, and that if you agree to it you won’t be able to discuss it with anybody. You will be bound by the Crimes Act as it relates to official secrets. Is that clear?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I also want you to understand that this is entirely voluntary. I’m not issuing you with an order.’
    ‘All right. Is it unreasonable to ask what I’m volunteering for, or would you see that as a failure of my good instincts to shut up?’
    Again, Joe was worried that Titus would find Helen Lord’s measured, Bolshie attitude unacceptable, and again he was surprised when Titus responded to it as if her tone was inoffensive.
    ‘You have a right to know, of course. I wouldn’t expect any officer to blindly obey a request, or even an instruction. Germany and Japan are full of people who do just that, and the consequences for everyone are dire.’
    Helen narrowed her eyes at Titus. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t playing her for a fool, although she didn’t feel patronised, and she was highly sensitised to that insult. For the moment, she’d suspend her suspicions, and accept Inspector Lambert’s words at face value.
    ‘You said there was no danger,’ she said.
    ‘You sound almost disappointed, Constable,’ Joe said.
    She couldn’t help herself. She turned to him and said, ‘When you’re a female constable, disappointments have a habit of mounting up.’
    ‘All right. Well, there will be some danger, in fact — you haven’t seen me skate.’
    Titus hadn’t given Joe any advice on how much to tell Helen. Joe thought this might have been as much about jurisdiction as about trust. In going to the Glaciarium, he was working for Intelligence, not Homicide. Joe decided that he wouldn’t link the Quinn murders — which Constable Lord would surely have heard about — to this assignment. Titus had mentioned the Crimes Act, and Joe wished he hadn’t. The Act was designed to deal with espionage and sensitive government matters. Helen Lord couldn’t help but make some connection between what she was being asked to do and the progress of the war.
    As they walked to the Glaciarium, Joe told Helen that he was interested in the activities of an instructor there, a woman named Peggy Montford. He didn’t say what those activities were — only that the activities, and the suspicions around them, were vague, and that it was more to do with the people she associated with than it was to do with her. Helen saved him from further entangling himself in his convoluted effort to tell her only as much as he thought she needed to know.
    ‘I’m just coming along for the ride, sir. I’m just glad to be out from behind a bloody desk.’
    ‘The “sir” stuff will have to go. I’m Joe, and we’re a couple — a clumsy couple who’ll need help on the ice.’
    Helen put her arm through his and started to whistle. After a moment, he caught the tune and joined in.
    The Glaciarium was on the south side of the Yarra River, opposite Flinders Street Station. As Helen and Joe went in, the sudden drop in temperature made Joe wish he was wearing a coat. It was busy; American servicemen were either gliding adroitly around the ice, or manhandling their delighted and squealing girlfriends, who were resolutely refusing to acquire the skills that