dollars on a framed and signed photograph of Greg Norman striding up a St Andrews fairway wearing some very bad lime green pants and tartan patterned vest. After the auction, his wife had chided him mercilessly for getting carried away in the heat of the auction moment.
Crighton leaned forward with his hands on his knees, trying to use his most sympathetic and understanding voice. He noticed that two old women stood in the shadows of the doorway listening, perhaps sensing something that Michael didn’t.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news Mr Fogliani. Earlier this evening we discovered a body in a car in the suburb of St Peters. The identification that we found on the deceased indicates that this person was your uncle, Emilio Fogliani.”
If Crighton had expected a hardened, unemotional response from the son of an underworld legend he was mistaken. The colour instantly drained from Michael Fogliani’s face and tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to hold them back in an attempt to hide his raw emotions but they flowed freely regardless. Their omens confirmed, the two women in the doorway clutched each other, left the room and could be heard wailing in another part of the house.
“How? What happened?” Fogliani asked through his tears, incredulous, his voice thick with emotion. “Do… do you have any information on how he died Superintendent?”
“We’re still looking into that Mr. Fogliani.”
“Please, call me Michael,” he responded automatically.
“Michael. We do know that he was shot several times and that it appears to be a homicide.”
Fogliani wiped his eyes on his sleeves and tried to stem the flow.
“I want to assure you that we’re looking into this and will leave no stone unturned to find out what happened. We will keep you informed at every step of the way.”
“Good, and thank you.” The tears started again. “I’m sorry for this. It’s just that I lost my father about nine years ago and now my uncle. I thought we’d left all the grief in the past, yet here we are again.”
“I am sorry for your family’s loss Michael.”
“Thank you Superintendent.”
“I’ve assigned two Detectives to the case. Their names are Nelson and Robards and they are some of our best officers. They are investigating the crime scene as we speak and will no doubt want to speak with you in the near future. If you could make yourself available to them it would be appreciated.”
“Of course, of course. I look forward to hearing from them and will give them my full co-operation Superintendent.”
The wailing from the other room increased in tempo and gusto, momentarily distracting Michael Fogliani.
“If there is nothing further gentlemen, I need to attend to my mother and aunt.”
“Yes of course Michael. I will leave you with my card. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
Crighton stood up to leave. “Oh and one more thing, someone will need to come down to the city morgue in Glebe to make a positive identification of the body. The detectives can organise a viewing for you.”
Fogliani nodded numbly at the thought.
Chapter 12
Kylie Faulkner ascended the stairs in the Redfern apartment block she had been visiting on a regular basis for the previous few weeks. There was no lift so her already shapely calves got a workout on their way to the fourth floor. Normally she dressed down so as not to attract attention in a neighbourhood that was not renowned for its safety, but because of the hour and the occasion, she decided to take the risk and was wearing nothing but a woollen knee length coat and high heels. And anyway, at six o’clock Saturday morning there was no one about to witness her mad dash from her car into the building and up the stairs.
Her knock on the apartment door was quickly answered by her recently acquired boyfriend, Manuel Torres. Despite the early hour, he was wearing a blue singlet and shorts and was covered in sweat after just returning from an eight kilometre circular run through the quiet streets. He had barely slept the previous night and needed the run to clear his mind.
“Morning baby,” she said, reaching up to kiss him and then stepping past him into the apartment. She noticed with concealed amusement that he had made an attempt to tidy the small one bedroom apartment in preparation for her visit. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“Oh?” He closed the door behind her and smiled, already feeling the tension beginning to ease from his tired limbs. Her presence always calmed him.
“Yes, you deserve it for what you’ve done,” she said, her eyes flashing with excitement. She let her coat fall to the ground revealing her nakedness.
“Now come and do whatever you want to me.” It took him the barest of moments to become aroused and pull her into the bedroom.
They had met in a sports bar six weeks ago, just two weeks after his release from prison. Manuel had just begun to find his feet on the outside and had gone to visit his friend Bruno Trulli at Pellegrinos. After dinner and a quiet discussion with Bruno in Hyde Park he had gone to a sports bar to play pool and meet up with some of his workmates.
Being an attractive woman sitting in a sports bar on her own at eleven p.m. on a Friday night, Kylie had attracted plenty of looks from men. Most of them would have liked to have taken her home and shown her the best few minutes of her life thus far – according to them - and despite being well and truly out of most of their leagues, some of them gave it their best shot anyway.
She ignored the offers of free drinks, the cheesy one-liners and the looks she received until after thirty minutes she caught the one she was after. At the time, she had started to think she was losing her touch. She held the stare from Manuel’s dark eyes for about four seconds, before ending it with a half smile and looking back to her drink. She didn’t have to wait long as he approached her after some goading from his workmates. Their first night together was wild and energetic and such was her performance and his pleasure, it was never going to be just a one night stand. His enjoyment was heightened because it was the first time he had been with a woman since before he had been sent to prison. From that night onwards their relationship had blossomed and deepened and Manuel quickly found himself thinking that he had found the one who was made for him.
**************
They lay naked on the bed, Kylie facing away from him. The morning sun arrived and cast its weak beams across the bed and their white and brown skins.
Manuel felt relaxed now and all the fears and anxieties of the previous twelve hours had slipped from his consciousness. He playfully traced the curves of Kylie’s body with his finger.
“You have scars,” he said.
“You have scars too,” she countered absent-mindedly, her green eyes staring into the distant cloud filled skies.
“Yeah, but you know where my scars came from. A man doesn’t spend seven years in prison without picking up a few scars. But where do yours come from? Have you spent time in prison from computer hacking or something?”
“No.” she laughed.
“Well?” he said poking her gently in the ribs. She turned towards him, her face unreadable. “What about this one?” he asked, feeling the faded white line on her forehead just below her hairline.
She stared at him and for the briefest of moments he thought he saw her face momentarily harden and lose some of its beauty before relaxing and returning to normal.
“It was from many years ago. When I was fifteen.”
Chapter 13
Detective Nelson quietly entered the room, making small stealthy steps towards his quarry. The element of
