bought in Hamilton, rang inquiries for the Law Institute of Victoria on Berglin’s mobile. An obliging woman took about two minutes to find the only three-name law firm in Melbourne beginning with Fielding: Fielding, Perez, Radomsky. She gave me an address in Rathdowne Street, Carlton.
I found a park across the street, outside a bookshop. As I crossed, the sun came out, took the edge off the wind. The gang of three had a shopfront office, two women behind a little counter. I said I’d like to see one of the lawyers. A five-minute wait produced a man who looked like the young Groucho Marx.
‘Alan Perez,’ he said, hand outstretched. ‘Come into my office.’
It was a very basic office, desk, computer, two client chairs, degree certificate.
‘Now. How may I help you?’ he said. ‘Mr…?’
‘Bianchi,’ I said, ‘Craig Bianchi. I’m helping my sister-in-law tie up the loose ends of her husband’s estate. He was a client of your firm.’
‘Who was that?’ he said, furry black eyebrows coming together.
‘Darren Bianchi.’
‘Not a client of mine. I’ll just look him up. Spell it how?’
He swivelled his chair, did some computer tapping, peering at the screen. He needed glasses. ‘Bianchi. Yes. Client of Geoff Radomsky’s.’ He swivelled back to look at me. ‘Deceased, did you say?’
‘Dead, yes.’
‘Well, both of them.’
‘Both of them?’
‘Geoff’s dead too. Here, in his office.’
‘Heart?’ I said. But I knew what was coming.
‘No. Abducted at his house, just around the corner, Drummond Street. Parking his car, garage’s off the lane. They, well, no-one knows, could be one person, brought him here, made him open the safe. Shot him. In the eye.’
Melanie Pavitt, lying there in her bath, gaping wound where her eye had been.
‘Nothing of value in the safe,’ Perez said. ‘Druggies, they think. Thought we kept money here.’
‘Things taken from the safe?’
Uncomfortable, pulling at a ring on the little finger of his left hand. ‘Don’t think so. Safe’s register of contents wasn’t up to date. Oversight, happens in a busy office. Everything thrown around, of course.’
‘When was this?’
‘More than a year ago now.’
‘And you wouldn’t know if there was anything concerning Darren in the safe. Right?’
Perez gave me a reassuring smile. ‘We can check that. I’ll get Mr Bianchi’s file.’
He went away. I got up and looked out the window. Two men, both balding and bearded, expensive clothes, were leaning on cars, BMW, Saab, parked next to each other on the median strip. They were talking across the gleaming metal, lots of gestures.
Alan Perez came back with a folder, sat down, went through it, eyebrows again trying to merge. There were only two pages as far as I could see.
‘Yes,’ he said, eyes down. ‘That’s unfortunate.’
‘What?’
‘File’s confidential, obviously, but there is a record here of a tape, audio tape, left with Geoff for safekeeping.’
‘Where would that be kept?’
‘Well, in the safe I imagine. In the absence of other instructions.’
‘Are there other instructions?’
Perez drew his furry upper lip down. ‘No. So that’s where it would have been put. I’m sure.’
‘Still there?’
‘I’ll check,’ he said, left again.
He was back inside a minute.
‘No. Not there. No tapes.’
‘So it could have been taken?’
Eyebrows again, black slugs trying to mate. ‘If it was in the safe. Where we would expect it to have been. But we don’t know. Yes. It could have been.’
I tried him on. ‘My sister-in-law says my brother left clear instructions with you about something. That would be about the tape, would it?’
He wasn’t happy. ‘Client’s instructions are confidential, we can’t…’
‘Client’s dead,’ I said. ‘And you don’t know what you had in your safe. Followed his instructions, have you? I’m happy to have the Law Institute take this up.’
I got up.
Perez said, ‘Mr Bianchi, you’ll appreciate our problem here. With Geoff dead, no-one was aware of his client’s instructions. We could hardly go through all his files to see…’
‘He’s my brother,’ I said. ‘All I want to know is what he wanted you to do. There’s something says you can’t tell me that?’
Pause. Perez shrugged. ‘Well, I suppose not. He wanted the tape handed over to the Director of Public Prosecutions. With copies to the media.’
‘In the event of what? When was this to be done?’
He couldn’t back off now.
‘In the event of his death from other than natural causes.’
‘He’s dead. Of unnatural causes.’
‘We didn’t know that. Unfortunately.’
‘Followed the instructions?’
He shrugged, crossed his legs. ‘You’ll understand our position, Mr Bianchi. The circumstances are such that we find ourselves…it would be unreasonable…we didn’t even know he was dead.’
‘Okay, I’ll accept that. Is there a Mrs Radomsky?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’d like to talk to her. He may have said something to her about the tape.’
‘Very unlikely. And I’m not sure that she…’
‘Alan,’ I said, ‘you owe this to Darren’s widow. You were negligent in your handling of a client’s affairs. You did not have procedures for ensuring that a client’s instructions were followed and…’
‘I’ll ring her,’ he said. ‘Would you excuse me for a moment?’
I went out and sat in the waiting area for a few minutes. Perez came out and beckoned me back into his office.
‘Helen Radomsky says she knows absolutely nothing about any tape. Geoff never talked about clients’ affairs- never.’
‘What about his secretary? She here?’
‘No. She took Geoff’s death badly. Both secretaries did. They both resigned. You can understand…’
‘Got a number for her?’
Perez looked unhappy again.
‘Ring her,’ I said. ‘Explain what it’s about.’
I didn’t have to leave the room this time. He got out the phone book. ‘I got a call from some solicitors in Hawthorn asking about Karen,’ he said. ‘Blandford something. Here we go.’
He dialled a number. ‘Alan Perez, Fielding, Perez, Radomsky. Do you have a Karen Chee? Yes, thank you… Karen, Alan Perez. Good thank you. You’re well, settling in?…It was a pleasure. Karen, we’re trying to find out about a tape that should have been in the safe. Audio tape.’
He listened for several minutes, saying ‘Yes. Right’.
Finally, he said, ‘Didn’t see them again. Sure about that?… Yes. Well, thanks. Look after yourself…I’ll certainly pass that on. Bye.’
He put the phone down.
