Private Sydney (Private 12)
‘On the contrary. This story has it all. Murdered widow, the fashionable Craig Gisto, Investigator and Scandal Suppresser to the stars.’
The microphone was suddenly beneath my chin. Peyroni had a blog, columns and a TV show. Spiteful press coverage from him could harm the business.
But I had no intention of giving him a sound bite.
Peyroni tried again. ‘Do you have any response to the rumours that you provided the killer with all the details to find Louise Simpson?’
I turned away and Mary stepped in. ‘The police will be keen to know how you beat them here. Something about obstructing justice, interfering with an investigation.’
Peyroni flashed an ultra-white smile. ‘Good old-fashioned investigative journalism. I’ve learnt a lot studying the great Craig Gisto. Do you have anything to say, Miss Clarke, on his dramatic fall from grace?’
Chapter 51
PEYRONI’S STUNT COULD have put lives at risk. Zoe Ruffalo was still missing, and we were no closer to finding Louise’s killer.
The one lead we had was the woman posing as Simpson. The Wallaces were our only hope of finding her.
I needed to get access to them during police questioning but didn’t fancy my chances. I phoned Brett Thorogood who, thankfully, picked up.
‘Craig, what the hell
went down? Mark Talbot is ropable. He says you leaked the address to the tabloid press.’
‘How many police knew? Maybe the leak’s closer to home.’
Recent raids on potential terrorists had been stage-managed for media. With state and federal elections looming, politicians and police ministers basked in megawatt coverage of high-profile arrests. PR stunts like this reminded the public police were ‘winning the war’ against crime.
Brett paused. ‘It’s possible it came from within our ranks but I was very specific. Only those directly involved were notified. Because of what was at stake and the intense media interest. It could have ended badly.’ His voice trailed off. ‘If it came from someone within the force, their career is over. No matter who they are.’
Mark Talbot wasn’t beyond suspicion either.
I described Wallace’s reaction to the pictures of Louise Simpson’s body. And how he seemed relieved that the dead woman was not the one he had met. Brett listened to my theory about someone impersonating Louise Simpson. With no other leads to finding Zoe Ruffalo, he agreed to see if he could get me in to question the Wallaces. With a warning. If I made any mistakes, the police relationship with Private would be terminated.
Mary and I headed back to the Jeep. She had been on the phone while I spoke to the deputy commissioner. She waited until we were alone inside the vehicle.
‘I just spoke to the helicopter charter company. They’ve had a chopper on hold since yesterday. Booked by Craven Media.’
I pulled the seatbelt across my chest. ‘That’s Peyroni’s employer.’
‘The pilot was on stand-by and took a call at eight-fifteen am to fly to this address. Peyroni’s team arrived twenty minutes later.’
It was like a heavy blow. That was the time we were on our way to Dural. Before I phoned the police.
‘We have to face it,’ Mary said. ‘The leak came from someone inside our office.’
Chapter 52
MARY STOPPED AT a small shopping mall at the unusually named Round Corner.
‘We can get a coffee. Looks like you need some sustenance.’
News of the timing of the leak had rocked me. I still had to decide how to handle it. The day was proving to be worse than yesterday and we still had no idea if Zoe was alive or where she might be. Mary was the only person I could trust right now.
We found a quaint café, called Chat Time, and took a seat in the outside section. The clientele comprised elderly people, mothers with babies and middle-aged women in exercise gear. They were all engaged in conversation at their respective tables. Not an electronic device in sight.
The atmosphere was homely, very different from city cafés. A middle-aged man dressed in a black shirt and trousers greeted us as I checked my phone for messages.
‘We don’t have wi-fi here,’ he said with a natural smile. ‘It encourages people to chat.’