see the sun rise at those times. People open their hearts to me, Paul, I understand them.
I understand them better than they understand themselves. I am someone who can reveal to them who they truly are, who can lead them to act in a way that is closest to their true wishes. They trust me and I always reward their trust.’
Harrigan had the rare sensation of a chill down his spine.
‘I guess in your business you need to,’ he said. ‘It helps in mine as well from time to time. You’re a people person, are you, Graeme? Does that describe your approach?’
He listened in what could only be described as detached astonishment to his own words. In the light of his feelings towards the man sitting in front of him, they were nothing less than a bad joke.
‘Oh, yes. Very much so. I can say that I truly love people, that their fate is of the greatest concern to me. And I know them. I know their hearts but I also know their faces and their names. I never forget anyone. Whoever comes to my door, whoever I encounter in my work, I remember them. I have that gift.’
‘I see.’
There was silence. In the small familiar room, Harrigan felt claustrophobia while the man in the other chair appeared unmoved.
‘When you were in the States, where did you spend most of your time?’ he asked.
The preacher smiled.
‘Everywhere, Paul. Everywhere. If I may say so — I’m a little surprised by these questions. I wonder if you shouldn’t be more concerned for Greg at this point. Shouldn’t you be organising a search?’
‘We’re out there looking, Graeme. Every available officer I’ve got.
I’ve already told you that. And from what you’ve just said to me, I’d have to judge there’s probably no great urgency about it now.’
‘But there is, Paul. There is great urgency. I must emphasise that.
Why wouldn’t there be?’
‘Then let me thank you for your help in putting us on the track.
Perhaps I can show you out.’
The preacher smiled again and got to his feet without waiting to be asked twice.
‘Certainly. Thank you for your time. This meeting has been most valuable to me. I will remember it. I hope we meet again.’
‘We will, Graeme. For one thing, we’ll need to talk to you about Greg. Whether we find him or not. I will brief one of my officers on this and she’ll be in touch with you pretty much as soon as is possible.’
‘By all means. I’ll wait to hear.’
At the elevator, Harrigan stood with the preacher waiting for his escort to arrive. Dea, at her desk, watched them between telephone calls.
‘I understand your congregation in Camperdown is quite popular, Graeme,’ he said, having heard no such thing, simply curious as to what response he might receive.
‘It’s thriving, Paul. I hope to take it out west in due time, I think there are many people out there who need me. I thought so yesterday when I was out there with Greg. But if you’re interested, why don’t you come to a prayer meeting one day? You would be most welcome.
Several other policemen have been members of my congregation at various times in the past. Why don’t you take my card?’
Harrigan took the offered card and looked at it. It gave the address of the New Life Ministries and the times of its prayer meetings, together with the text:
‘Thanks. I’ll bear it in mind,’ he said, pocketing it.
Just then the elevator doors opened but instead of the preacher’s escort Grace appeared, returning from her daily visit to the hospital.
She greeted Harrigan and glanced at the preacher before walking towards the office. Seeing her, Harrigan returned to the practicalities of work.
‘Grace. Have you got a moment?’ he called out.
‘Sure,’ she said, turning.
‘This is someone you need to meet, Graeme. This is Grace Riordan.
Grace, this is Preacher Graeme Fredericksen. Grace is the officer I’ve assigned to Greg. She’ll be dealing with him, should we find him. If you have any information you think will be useful to us, you need to tell her. You two need to make some time to talk.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Grace said with her professional smile, offering her hand. ‘If you’ve got the time, I can talk to you now.’
‘Now will not be possible,’ he replied.
He had not accepted her handshake and was staring at her. Grace, finding her hand ignored, reached into her shoulder bag instead.
‘Would you like my card? You can call me,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he said automatically, taking it without so much as glancing at it. He said nothing else, his gaze still fixed on her. Across his face there appeared like the most transient of skinscapes an expression of loathing, gone in the lightning flash of less than a second. For that passing second, he became completely aged.
‘Do you have a card yourself?’ she asked into the vacuum of his response. ‘If we need to be in touch — ’
He stepped back from her but was still staring.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ he replied.
The elevator doors opened again and the preacher’s uniformed escort appeared.
‘We’ll see each other again, Graeme,’ Harrigan said, having watched the whole scene with fascination.
‘Yes, I’m sure we will,’ the preacher replied with a smile and was gone.
When the doors had closed, Grace turned to Dea.
‘I must have forgotten to put my deodorant on this morning. I can’t get by without my Mum,’ she added, with exaggerated sarcasm.
‘Not you, darl,’ Dea replied with a guttural laugh. ‘That was his problem. I was wondering when I was talking to him, the way he was looking at me. He doesn’t like women. You can feel it.’
‘We found him?’ Grace said to Harrigan.
‘No,’ he replied, ‘he found us. And an unpleasant little rendezvous it was too. I need caffeine.’
‘There’s some fresh brewed coffee in the tea room. Why don’t you both go and get some?’ Dea said, glancing from Harrigan to Grace and back again.
The tea room smelled of stale milk and over-brewed coffee, the bins jammed with takeaway food containers, a sign of the pressurised work put in by Harrigan’s team. It was a place where they pinned bad jokes and cartoons up on the noticeboard next to cheese-cake calendars, although these days the porn had mostly gone. Grace poured herself coffee before passing the jug to Harrigan.
‘Maybe we can get someone else to talk to him. If talking to me is such a disgusting thing to have to do,’ she said.
‘I don’t think you have to worry about that, Grace. That man came in here to tell me — he couldn’t just pick up the phone, he couldn’t talk to Trev, he had to see me in person — to tell me he’s lost that boy, that he’s spent the night pounding the streets looking for him and now he’s deeply concerned for his welfare. And why? Because, he says, the boy is inclined to do himself harm. If that kid isn’t dead by now, he will be.
If we ever find him again, he’ll be dead from an overdose or he’ll have fallen into the harbour while he was under the influence. Something we can’t possibly prove wasn’t suicide or an accidental death.’
Grace stirred milk into her coffee, staring at the grubby wall. He sipped his black, standing beside her.
‘I was two hours too late for him yesterday. Probably the story of Greg’s life,’ she said, shaking her head, sending a shiver running down her spine. ‘You’d really need more than a hide to come here and do something like that, wouldn’t you? If you had killed him, I mean.
You’d have to get a real charge out of knowing what you’d done.
Watch me while I push my luck and see what I can get away with.’
‘I’ll tell you one thing, he was having a high old time while he was here. I don’t think I fathom our preacher just yet. I walked out of there thinking, nothing would touch this joker.’
