The Ancient Craft

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Angelo’s formal interview with Inspector Bill Etheridge took place at police headquarters seven days after the execution of the search warrant. The proceedings were tape-recorded by a young clerical officer, and the atmosphere was as frigid as the bleak weather outside.

‘You are formally required to answer my questions as a serving police officer, so let’s not get involved with any legal nonsense about the right to silence,’ Etheridge said in an attempted friendly tone. ‘You be straight with me and I’ll do everything I can to help you and Rose.’

Angelo instantly picked up the implied threat once again. ‘Just get it over with,’ he replied.

‘There’s no need to be hostile, Angelo. I’m just doing my job.’

‘If I recall correctly, that’s what the SS said after the war.’

‘That attitude won’t help, Angelo. You’re in too much trouble to argue with me.’

Angelo gave an ironic smile. ‘What did you find? No, let me guess. A stash of pot, or coke or smack. Just enough to be in the commercial quantity range, I’ll bet.’ He shook his head angrily. ‘Surely you can’t be that stupid? I’m the main witness in a drug trial involving crims that have unlimited funds, and access to any drug they want to plant. Can’t you work out what’s going on?’

‘Then you admit that there were drugs in your car? You knew about them?’

‘Don’t put words into my mouth. I don’t know what you found. When you tell me what was planted, we’ll both know.’

‘Very well.’ Etheridge leafed through a folder that lay on the table in front of him. ‘The analysis has just come back for the substance that we found in your car. It was heroin. Commercial quantity. You will be charged accordingly, and, of course, you remain suspended. This time without pay.’

A fog of frustration and despair flooded over Angelo. All of his adult life he had been completely honest and professional, refusing to cut corners or even consider the smallest bribe. He had even returned a case of beer he found in the patrol wagon one Christmas Eve to the publican who was thanking the force for their past help. Angelo lived with his young family in a modest fibro cottage and drove a ten-year-old rust bucket of a car, and now as a reward he faced disgrace and imprisonment.

Even his years studying law at night through the Barristers Admission Board of Sydney University had been a complete waste of time and effort. If convicted, he would be removed from the roll of barristers and any future job involving trust would also be ruled out. Rose had been correct all along. She had warned him that the crooks in the force would destroy him, and she had begged him over and over again to quit and use his legal qualifications. He now admitted to himself that his stubborn streak could destroy them.

Angelo’s hatred of organised crime stemmed from his early childhood in Italy where the Mafia ruled by fear and extortion. It was this background that convinced him to join the police force, to make Australia a better place for his presence. What a joke his dreams had been, he now realised. He despaired of what would happen to his wife and young children when he was locked up for five, seven or ten years in a gaol where most of the inmates wanted him dead.

Etheridge formally closed the interview and motioned for the clerk to cease recording and leave the room. After she had departed, he dropped his formal tone.

‘Look, Angelo, I know it could be a fit-up, but what can we do? We can’t ignore the drugs or we’d be charged ourselves with misconduct. Off the record, I think you’re straight, and anything I can do without getting myself into trouble, I’ll do for you. Don’t worry about Rose. I’d never involve her. That line was just for the recording.’

Angelo stared at him. ‘Who spread the lies?’

‘It was a low-level informant. No doubt he was just passing on a message from his bosses. You know we can’t ID him. We don’t want you putting a bullet in him now, do we?’

Angelo nodded. ‘The message probably came through three or four crims before it got to you. Where did you find the drugs?’

‘Someone went to a lot of trouble. We got info that they would be found inside the spare tyre in the boot. We had to take the wheel to a tyre-fitters to get the tyre off the rim, and there it was in the usual plastic bags.’

‘No fingerprints, of course?’

‘As I said, they went to a lot of trouble.’ He held out his hand. ‘It’s nothing personal, but we have to formally arrest and charge you now.’

Angelo shook the proffered hand. ‘Bail?’

‘There’ll be no trouble there. Unconditional bail with no surety or reporting conditions. That’s about all I can do for you now.’

Angelo knew that Etheridge could have arranged for a walk-by in front of newspaper and TV reporters, or objected to granting any bail at all. He took some consolation from this small act of kindness.