dark and passably good-looking. Back numbers of
I phoned Barton amp; Baird and asked to speak to the agent who’d handled Jason Clement. There was a pause as the receptionist tapped keys.
‘I’m sorry. We don’t have a client of that name.’
‘I know. He was on your books about four years ago.’
She sounded young. Four years probably seemed like a long time to her.
‘Could you hold for a minute, please? I’ll ask around.’
I waited, listening to music I couldn’t identify.
‘Are you there, sir? I think Tim Stafford might be able to help you.’
‘Could I speak to him?’
‘It’s a she.’
‘Tim is a she?’
‘Her name is Timpani. I’m afraid not. She’s out of town on location and won’t be back for two days.’
‘Could I have her mobile?’
‘We don’t give out numbers and anyway it wouldn’t help, she’s on a boat out at sea.’
‘Is there no one else?’
‘No. I’m sorry, I have calls waiting.’
I thanked her and said I’d ring again in a few days. Next I tried Dr Kinsolving but that was like picking your way through a minefield. I got an answering machine message at the Chatswood number advising me of the times the doctor would be in attendance. At the Bondi Junction number I actually got a living person but not much joy.
‘You need a GP referral to see doctor,’ the receptionist said.
‘I’m not a patient. This is a different matter.’
‘I can put you through to doctor’s business manager.’
‘I don’t want his business manager, I want to speak to the doctor in person.’
‘Doctor is very busy; if you’re not a patient and it’s not a business matter, I don’t see. .’
‘Can you give him a message?’
‘Of course.’
I told her I was a private detective employed by Ray Frost who was the father of Dr Kinsolving’s client, the late Robert Forrest. I heard her gasp.
‘Oh, Bobby.’
‘Yes, Bobby. Tell the doctor it’s very urgent that I speak with him.’
She was helpful now and took down my numbers and those for Ray Frost and said she’d get the message to doctor just as soon as she could. I wondered how long that would be but didn’t press my luck by asking. I rang Ray Frost and told him a psychiatrist would be calling him to check on me.
‘What psychiatrist?’
‘Bobby’s psychiatrist.’
‘I didn’t know he had one.’
‘There’s a few things about him we didn’t know.’
‘So you’re still working on it. Are you getting anywhere?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Good. Stay with it and remember, any help you need I’m here.’
Kinsolving called an hour later and said he’d be happy to speak with me and he could give me some time at his Bondi Junction rooms at 2 pm that afternoon.
‘Did you call Ray Frost?’ I said.
‘I had someone call him, yes.’
That’s the way top people handle things. He sounded poised and confident and as if I should feel privileged to be talking to him in person. I hadn’t met any of the people in Kinsolving’s photo lineup, but then, he’d probably never met Brett Kirk or Jimmy Barnes. Remembering the doc’s sartorial style, I wore the suit. I didn’t think I’d need the gun.
Kinsolving’s rooms were in a street close to the shopping centre but not too close. The street featured a row of elegant terrace houses with tiled porches reached by tiled paths and steps. Well-maintained iron fences, tasteful gardens, imposing teak doors. I mounted the steps and pressed the buzzer. A click told me a surveillance camera had taken a look at me. Then the door opened and I walked into a carpeted passage that smelled of money.
A discreet sign pointed me to a waiting room halfway along the passage. Wide marble stairs with a polished handrail mounted to the heavens.
I went into the waiting room where a woman sat behind a desk. I agreed that I was Mr Hardy and she got up and opened a door. I went in to a large room with muted lighting. Bookshelves, a couple of armchairs, no desk, no couch. Dr Kinsolving came towards me with his hand out.
‘Mr Hardy, so glad to meet you. Please sit down. Would you like anything-tea, coffee?’
‘No thanks, doctor.’
I sat in one of the chairs. He remained standing for a few seconds-good manners or a little dominance strategy? He was about fifty, getting a bit portly but tall enough to carry it for a few years yet. His shirt and tie were blue, restful colours. His voice was quiet and his manner was confident.
‘Never met anyone in your profession before,’ he said as he sat. ‘I imagine you’re the sorts of fellows who can handle their own problems. Would you say?’
‘Possibly. In my case, so far.’
‘Good. Now I don’t have a lot of time. How can I be of help? I have to warn you, the constraints on what I can say about a client are severe.’
‘Even if he’s dead?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you tell me, in very general terms, what problem Bobby Forrest came to you with?’
‘No.’
‘I know he had sexual problems. He told me about them. I’m not interested in that. I’m wondering if he had. . fears.’
He smiled. ‘Sexual problems generate possibly the worst fears of all.’
‘Okay. I’ll be direct. I’m trying to find out who killed him. I’ve got a possible candidate but not much information on the circumstances. I’ve been told there was a person who threatened him. I’d like to know whether Bobby took the threat seriously.’
‘I’ve never had a client murdered before. It’s left me with a very uneasy feeling. I’m wondering whether I could have done more for him. Perhaps prevented this from happening.’
‘You know, doctor, you’re the fourth person to have that feeling.’
This didn’t please him. His eyebrows shot up. ‘Really, who?’
‘His father, his girlfriend and me.’
‘You’ve met her, the girlfriend?’
‘Yes.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Very impressive, mature, intelligent. .’
‘Yes, I imagine so.’
He nodded as if he were talking to himself. He swivelled half away in his chair and seemed to be carrying on a silent dialogue with his eyes half closed and his hand stroking his beard. The silence didn’t bother him. Eventually he swung back and faced me.
‘I’m going to break some rules and be as frank with you as I can. Robert came to me with a troubling doubt about his sexuality. He had problems with impotence and wondered if he were homosexual. Obviously I can’t tell you about the experiences he’d had that gave rise to this doubt. We talked about it of course, and also about other matters. To answer your question, yes, he was worried about the threat and took it very seriously.’
