Before It Breaks (27 page)

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Authors: Dave Warner

BOOK: Before It Breaks
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Risely didn't care what the truth was, he knew how they'd all react and Clement didn't fault his logic.

‘Have we got enough to paint this as a biker killing?'

Clement didn't think so but the Dingos were his first priority. He saw Keeble arrive with her tech team. If she were tired she didn't show it, moving with a spring in her step. They waved to each other.

‘We need something soon. This is a tourist town and it could get out of hand quickly.'

Clement understood Risely was being pragmatic but still felt like he was being pressured. The uniforms had already established a crime scene perimeter. Orese was still sitting by himself, waiting patiently. The paramedics were leaving, their services not required here. Risely asked if he should come out.

‘Probably not much point. I'd like to know who owns this place.'

Risely said he'd find out and they agreed to meet in the office as soon as Clement was through there. Clement advanced to where Keeble was camped over the body. Earle stood back, giving her space. Close up Clement could see the fatigue in her eyes.

‘It's very probable he was killed right there sometime last night,' Keeble said. ‘Single blow to the head, probably the same weapon as the other one.'

‘No defence wounds?'

‘Nope. Like he was just standing there — and whack.'

And yet he had possibly pulled a knife. Somebody had surprised him and at the last second he had tried to defend himself. Clement couldn't ignore the idea the dead man knew his killer, had come to meet him out here and then realised it was a set-up. Clement thought about the body some more.

‘He doesn't seem as badly beaten up as Schaffer.'

‘You're right. He was pole-axed and left to die.'

Like it was less personal, more business, he thought. She showed him the kid's watch which was in an evidence bag.

‘This was just a couple of metres from the body.'

Clement examined it. He wondered if the killer or victim might have dropped it. It should print up well.

‘I found gravel in the groove of his boot, which you'd expect, of course, but it is consistent with what we found at Schaffer's where you were attacked.'

‘There's a motorcycle in the garage. You want to do that here or the station?'

‘Here will be fine. Shall I do that first?'

‘No, van first for this poor bastard.' Clement nodded at Orese.

‘I'll print and swab him too.'

Finding a murder victim could be a damn inconvenience, thought Clement. Shepherd arrived, spraying gravel.

‘This is going to be big,' he said heading from the car. Jared Taylor followed quietly behind him. Clement told them he wanted them to head up to the nearest houses and canvas everybody about what they had seen last night, and over the last few days.

‘Boys notice motorcycles. See if anybody saw our victim with anybody else or any people or vehicles here.'

His phone buzzed. Mal Gross thought he might have an ID on the victim.

‘Arturo “Arthur” Lee.' Mal highlighted the photo on his computer. ‘They had a few on their books fitted the description but he was only one rides a Kawasaki.'

Risely craned in to get a good look. Clement had no doubt it was the same man he'd left back at Blue Haze with his head caved in.

‘That's our victim. From Adelaide?'

‘Darwin, though I've got news from Adelaide too. Lee's gang call themselves CZG, they were originally based in New Zealand but they've got Darwin and Cairns chapters. I spoke to Adelaide first and while we didn't hit on Lee, soon as I mentioned that the Dingos had been talking of some kind of money rolling in, the Adelaide boys got interested. CZG has been sourcing methamphetamine chemicals from somebody in Adelaide who the biker squad has had under surveillance.'

Risely put it together. ‘CZG get the gear from Adelaide to distribute through the north. They've got Darwin and they are spreading south. The garage out at Blue Haze is owned by one of the Dingos, a Stefan Marinovic.'

Mal Gross knew him. He speculated the Dingos might be getting a cut from hooking up distribution. ‘The mining camps would be a big market, young blokes with money and not much to do. The Dingos could facilitate that.'

Risely stretched himself back to his full height. ‘I have warrants
for the Dingo clubhouse and Marchant's house on the way. How does Schaffer fit in?'

He looked at Clement for the answer.

‘Maybe Schaffer was a lot bigger than he seemed? Maybe this was the windfall he was talking about? He could have been in with Lee and CZG and somebody else has taken them out?'

‘The Dingos wouldn't be up for this would they?'

Gross grunted. ‘Na. I wouldn't think so. This is way out of their league.'

Risely said, ‘So let's ask them what's going on. And not too politely.'

A little after six p.m., Clement, Gross and Earle sat in Mal Gross's immaculate work car outside Marchant's house. His bike and car were in the driveway. Clement had decided to try the house before the clubhouse. If Marchant were with his family it would be a lot simpler. It looked like they were in luck.

‘Let's go.'

They walked up the short, dark concrete driveway. The house was modest, circa 1980, brick, hacienda style with lawn. Cooking smells wafted out. Clement knocked. There was a delay and then the door opened on a squat woman around forty in shorts and tank top. Her over-tanned shoulder showed off a tattoo of a dingo. She looked them up and down with contempt. Clement identified the smell coming from inside as roast lamb or beef. Her eyes narrowed on Gross.

‘What do youse want?'

‘We need to speak to Dean,' Clement said.

‘It's Sunday dinner for Chrissake.'

Through the open door Clement could see a dining table and at least two children. The air inside the house was hot. He didn't know how they could stand it. The hair of Marchant's missus had wilted into tangled strands.

‘What's the problem?' Dean Marchant had appeared behind his wife.

‘Problem is, Dean, we don't think you were honest with us. Now we'd like you to come to the station.'

‘He's in the middle of dinner, arseholes.'

Marchant calmed his wife with a touch. ‘Go to the kids.'

She left, glaring.

‘Can't this wait?'

‘You had your chance, Dean,' said Mal. ‘You stuffed us around. You're coming with us. Now.'

Marchant seemed on the verge of objecting. He could point out that if they weren't arresting him he had no desire to come with them but he seemed to think better of it.

Clement and Earle sat opposite Marchant in the interview room, Mal Gross on a plastic chair inclined against the wall, arms folded. Clement had decided not to switch on the camera and make this a formal interview. Not yet anyway. He wanted to offer Marchant the chance to talk without feeling he'd be identified as an informant. Clement took the lead.

‘Arturo Lee was found murdered this morning. He had been staying in a property which we now know is owned by Stefan Marinovic, a member of your gang. Lee was seen arguing with Dieter Schaffer in the week before he was murdered. You and your gang are right in the middle of this.'

Marchant was trying to look tough but Clement sensed it was a front.

‘If you're keeping quiet because you think there's going to be a big payday, forget it. The Adelaide bikie-squad is busting your meth suppliers right now. In about two minutes I'm going to turn on that camera and this will become official. Once that happens you and your gang will be wiped off the face of the earth. Forget about seeing your kids grow up. Or you can tell us everything you know about the murders. That's what we're investigating. You cooperate, it's going to help you.'

Marchant folded his arms but it was a retreat, not a stonewall. ‘None of us had anything to do with murdering anybody.'

‘Who did?'

‘How the fuck do I know?'

‘You were importing chemicals with Lee to manufacture ice.'

‘No we weren't. CZG contacted us and offered us money to put up one of their blokes and rent a space for a delivery.'

Gross laughed. ‘You're not that stupid, Dean. You knew what they were up to.'

Clement bore in. ‘Don't fuck us around. We've got multiple homicides pointing at you. Tell us what we want to know or we'll find something to put you away for a very long time.'

‘That's intimidation. I want a lawyer.'

‘You get a lawyer, this gets very official and those Darwin boys will not be happy. Work with us, Dean. If you didn't kill Lee then we are all looking for who did. We're on the same side.'

‘The operation was theirs,' Marchant said mulishly. ‘But if we gave them some contacts for the north-west they'd be grateful.'

Clement read into it that the Dingos would be given cash or drugs to distribute through the Kimberley but he didn't push, he wanted Marchant cooperating.

‘What was the connection between Lee and Schaffer?'

‘There was no connection. Not really. Look, while Lee was here somebody gave him a puff on some weed. He wanted more and someone pointed him to the Kraut. This is what he told me, right? Lee offered him a chance to join his distribution in return for some weed. Kraut tells him to go fuck himself. That was the fight. That was all it was.'

‘Not all,' said Clement weightily. ‘Somebody bashed me with a shovel when I was at Schaffer's. You?'

‘What? No! Lee went there to rip off the Kraut's pot, teach him a lesson. He thought you were Schaffer.'

‘Schaffer was dead,' pointed out Clement evenly.

‘He didn't know that, 'cause he didn't kill him. Lee was really pissed off because you lot was looking for him and he has to go underground till the stuff arrives. That's the truth. Nothing to do with murder, and we ain't sold any drugs so we've done nothing wrong.'

Earle said, ‘You hindered our investigation. You lied to us.'

Marchant stayed silent.

‘Why did Lee take Schaffer's computer? What did he do with it?'

‘What computer? What would Lee want with a computer?'

Clement didn't detect a lie.

‘Lee and Schaffer are both dead,' said Clement. ‘Both were distributing drugs. Maybe you guys thought you'd grab it all for yourselves?'

‘That's crap. The night the Kraut was murdered Lee was at our clubhouse till about two in the morning.'

‘So who else distributes drugs up here?' Clement said. ‘Who else might have got pissed off there was about to be competition?'

‘Nobody. That's why CZG came to us.'

Gross spoke from the sidelines. ‘No other gang who wants the action for themselves?'

‘If there was another gang don't you reckon I'd tell you, get them off our patch? I got no idea who killed them or why.'

23

Later Clement had his main team assembled in his office: Gross, Lisa Keeble, Manners, Earle, Shepherd and Jared Taylor. Shepherd was the last in and Clement checked with him first.

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