planned. His annoyance was transferred into extra pressure on the accelerator and his car touched one hundred and sixty kilometres per hour before he banked left and worked his way across to St Peters.
Despite making the journey from his home in Brighton LeSands in near world record time he still didn’t quite manage to make Crighton’s thirty minute time frame. Nelson turned into Euston Road and immediately saw the flashing blue lights of a couple of general duties squad cars advertising the police presence. He knew the area well enough as he had attended a few concerts in the park over the years. The eastern edge of the park was framed mostly by small factories, storage warehouses and depots. As it was only a fifteen to twenty-five minute drive - depending on the traffic - from the city centre, the floor space in the area was in high demand and a fairly expensive leasing proposition.
Nelson parked his car. As he alighted into the cold night air he noted that Robards had already arrived and was speaking with a security guard alongside Crighton. Nelson briefly wondered how the hell Robards had managed to arrive before him seeing that he lived further away. Adding further to Nelson’s chagrin, Robards looked as fresh as a daisy in his thousand dollar suit and was no doubt impressing the hell out of Crighton with his dapper punctuality and eagerness. Nelson was not so sartorially elegant but his fleece lined jacket kept out the cold June night, which was the most important thing to him.
Crighton noted Nelson’s arrival, excused himself and limped towards Nelson. Crighton had spent only a couple of years in active operational duty before blowing out his knee while trying to wrestle a garrulous drunk into a cell. The injury was severe and predated the wonders of modern orthopedic surgery. Several botched treatments had resulted in an unholy fusion of ligament and bone that could never be properly fixed. From that day forward he had walked with a limp and had been restricted to the non-operational areas of the New South Wales Police Force. Although his injury hampered his mobility it proved to be the making of his career. His spotless personnel record, his exemplary work ethic and his relative competence as an administrator ensured that he progressed smoothly through the ranks in the ensuing years, holding positions mainly at Police Headquarters and the Academy at Goulburn. Rumour had it that in a previous life Crighton had been a fairly competent sportsman but his work habits and dodgy knee had long ago removed any sign of athleticism from his now podgy, round body.
His appointment to Commander of the Homicide squad two years previously had raised plenty of eyebrows among the ninety or so Homicide squad members who were generally of the opinion that someone with a little more front line experience would have been better suited to managing the squad. However, those above him considered that he had done a reasonable job during his tenure.
“Take a walk with me Detective Sergeant,” he said by way of greeting.
Nelson followed him as they walked well out of earshot of the others in attendance at the scene. He noted with mild satisfaction that Crighton looked tired as tired as he felt, with tight, deep lines framing his blue eyes.
“Now I don’t need to tell you Detective that the Homicide Squad needs to be seen to be on top of this from the beginning. Emilio Fogliani is a well known name in some circles and there’s likely to be media interest in this. I especially don’t want you or any other members of the Police Force giving off the cuff, speculative quotes to the media over what has transpired here tonight. The only statements that I want to see in the press are those that have come out of the media unit or any press conference that will be organised through me. What I do want however, is for you and Detective Robards to give this case your undivided attention and handle it as quickly and efficiently as possible. Is this understood Detective?”
“Yes Boss.” Nelson didn’t think Crighton had sufficiently earned his respect to warrant being called ‘Sir’. In his opinion, few senior officers had. “What about VanMerle?” Nelson normally worked in a team of eight Detectives. The team was headed by Inspector James VanMerle. While he was officially Nelson’s superior, his role was mostly administrative in nature, although to Nelson’s annoyance, he had a habit of trying to get hands-on with the cases that had political or media cache.
“I will square it away with Inspector VanMerle when he gets to the office in the morning. Alright now….”
“Before you go on, can I just ask why we’re handling this case instead of leaving it up to the LAC boys? I mean, Fogliani isn’t that big a name anymore is it?” Despite the noticeable frown that instantly creased Crighton’s forehead Nelson thought the question reasonable. There were Detectives attached to most Local Area Commands or LACs, in the Sydney Metro region and it was usual procedure for them to handle the Homicide cases or any other criminal investigations in their region unless the investigation was identified as being too complex or would unreasonably stretch their limited resources. When this occurred, the case was referred for assistance to one of the squads or taskforces in the State Crime Command that specialised in addressing certain types of crime like drugs, organised crime or homicide.
“All Homicide cases are important Detective and there may be more to this one than meets the eye. Anyway, all you need to know is that I’ve made the decision that this is a case the Homicide squad needs to run with. End of story. Now do you have any more questions Detective Nelson?”
“No Boss,” replied Nelson, deciding to quit while he was behind.
“Good. Then I will leave the investigation of this case in yours and Detective Robard’s capable hands. The Newtown LAC Detectives have remained on-site to brief you more fully. I want a progress report from you in my office by nine a.m.. After that I’ll meet with the media unit and issue a statement.”
“Ok boss. What about the family? Anyone told them yet?”
Crighton considered the question for a moment. “No. I will save you the trouble and go and speak with the Fogliani family myself. I’ll give them assurances that you and Detective Robards are already on the case and that you will be in touch with them in the near future to gather whatever background information is available.”
“I doubt they’ll give us anything.”
“That may well be the case Detective,” said Crighton, looking sharply at Nelson. “But I know you will make the effort nonetheless. Treat them like any normal grieving family Detective. Just because they may have had some spurious connections in the past doesn’t make them immune to feeling pain when a loved one has been taken from them.” Crighton turned to go indicating the end of the conversation but then turned back to Nelson.
“Oh and Nelson.”
“Yes boss?”
“Don’t fuck this up.”
Chapter 10
As Superintendent Crighton left the crime scene, Nelson pondered the pep talk he had been given. He wasn’t sure if it was the after effects of the beer he’d consumed earlier in the night, or if he was just plain stupid, but the circumstances as to how and why he had been given the case seemed unusual to say the least. It was one of the few times he had ever seen Crighton attend a crime scene, at least one where there were no television cameras for him to spout mindless platitudes about how the good stats were up and the bad stats were down and that the Homicide squad was making the streets of Sydney safe. He was confused as to why Crighton had handed he and Robards the case and not waited for the LAC Detectives to run with it, at least initially, or even why one of the on- call Homicide Squad detectives hadn’t been given the case. Nelson knew he had established a high clearance rate for the cases he had worked on but there were other, more senior, more experienced members of the Homicide squad who boasted similar or even better clearance rates.
He also cynically wondered if every family that had a loved one murdered received a personal visit from a Superintendent, or if it was just the important or politically connected ones. Putting aside these thoughts for the time being he cleared his mind and tried to focus on the job at hand. Regardless of the circumstances, it was his case now and he had to run with it whether he liked it or not.
He looked around the crime scene, making mental notes of who was in attendance and what they were doing. The two Newtown LAC Detectives who had initially been called into the case were leaning against their car with arms crossed, speaking to a couple of uniformed general duties Constables. Robards was still drilling the security guard and two
Nelson decided to start with the LAC Detectives and made his way over to them. He recalled that their names were Smythe and Bourne as he had attended a training course with them a year ago. Nelson was reasonable at remembering names, but nearly flawless at remembering faces. However, he wasn’t sure if they would remember him because he knew from past experience that he had one of those faces that didn’t seem to
