this. They will drill down, they will go public, and your career will be over. I’ve seen it happen. Have you ever threatened anyone over social media?’
‘No, sir. I don’t use the internet for much.’
Hugh’s nostrils flare, lips tighten—the first clue that someone would rather be someplace else but has too much at stake to go there. And he’s back to calling me sir.
On his CV front page there’s a list entitled Prior Employment . I’m surprised by what I see.
‘You were in the police force?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Where did you work?’
‘Drug Squad out of Melbourne.’
‘Why did you leave?’
He performs a guilty smile.
‘Money.’
‘As a cop, shouldn’t you have a predilection for criminal law?’
‘I thought I would, but at school I didn’t.’
‘And the real money’s in commercial law.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you know the name Glen Tyan?’
I’m as surprised by the question as Hugh, who’s so ambushed that he chuckles anxiously, with a jiggle of his tummy. But how could I not ask, given the serendipity of it, the fucking timing?
‘Yeah. Of course! Detective Glen Tyan?’
He seems incredulous that someone might not have heard of him.
‘You know him personally?’
‘Well, no, but…’
‘You know the name.’
‘Yeah, but…’ Confusion in his eyes. ‘Everybody knows the name Glen Tyan.’
I chuckle along, as if I know why that is.
‘Christ,’ says Hugh, suddenly bassfaced. ‘He doesn’t work here , does he?’
‘No no. I’ve not met him either. I know him through another client. Just my…Another client.’
‘Tell them to watch out.’ The chuckling is back but muted. ‘The nicest thing you can say about Glen Tyan is that he’s unpredictable.’
‘Ha! Yes!’ This is an entirely honest guffaw.
‘They called him the Polygraph. In the Homicide Squad. Did you know that?’
I shake my head, willing Hugh to continue.
‘He had a talent…Well, this is what they said. He could tell ifsomeone was lying. I mean, always. Branches all over Victoria used to bring him in for interrogations, he got that famous for it. He was a legend. For a while.’
That pulls the curtain back on last night. Perhaps Tyan knew I was no journalist from the start, from the moment I called him with my face to the glass in the smoking grotto downstairs. He met with me and nodded along to my questions, all the while seeing through my bullshit with a superpower he’d cultivated for years and which is, I can say with confidence, not hereditary.
‘Did he ever help you out like that?’
‘Not me. People I worked with, yeah. It got to the point where career crims were making deals just so they didn’t have to talk to him. But of course, that was before…you know.’
‘Sure,’ I say.
No idea what he means.
‘I guess I don’t consider him the laughing stock that other police do. To me it’s more sad than anything else. Every bloody year they do a skit about him at the Union Ball too, and that’s brutal. I mean, the whole thing happened, what, ten years ago? They’re still so brutal. I suppose it is funny. But it’s just sad more than anything.’
‘Right. Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.’
‘He’s the cautionary tale, right? The thing every officer is scared of becoming.’
‘Can I ask…’ I try to seem chatty, ‘Do you know exactly why he left the police force?’
It’s the question that bugged me last night, that seemed to bug Tyan even more.
‘Well, I mean, that’s…that’s what I’m…’
Suspicion comes. I’ve misstepped. Hugh’s face pinches.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t be discussing this—’
‘ No no no ,’ I say, too earnest. ‘It’s all right . I’m just curious .’
But Hugh can see that that’s not true— his polygraph kicking in, his brain backpedalling.
‘I mean…I don’t work there anymore, but VicPol kind of doesn’t like it when people talk out of school.’
Somehow my body language or my tone of voice has
‘No, sir. I don’t use the internet for much.’
Hugh’s nostrils flare, lips tighten—the first clue that someone would rather be someplace else but has too much at stake to go there. And he’s back to calling me sir.
On his CV front page there’s a list entitled Prior Employment . I’m surprised by what I see.
‘You were in the police force?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Where did you work?’
‘Drug Squad out of Melbourne.’
‘Why did you leave?’
He performs a guilty smile.
‘Money.’
‘As a cop, shouldn’t you have a predilection for criminal law?’
‘I thought I would, but at school I didn’t.’
‘And the real money’s in commercial law.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you know the name Glen Tyan?’
I’m as surprised by the question as Hugh, who’s so ambushed that he chuckles anxiously, with a jiggle of his tummy. But how could I not ask, given the serendipity of it, the fucking timing?
‘Yeah. Of course! Detective Glen Tyan?’
He seems incredulous that someone might not have heard of him.
‘You know him personally?’
‘Well, no, but…’
‘You know the name.’
‘Yeah, but…’ Confusion in his eyes. ‘Everybody knows the name Glen Tyan.’
I chuckle along, as if I know why that is.
‘Christ,’ says Hugh, suddenly bassfaced. ‘He doesn’t work here , does he?’
‘No no. I’ve not met him either. I know him through another client. Just my…Another client.’
‘Tell them to watch out.’ The chuckling is back but muted. ‘The nicest thing you can say about Glen Tyan is that he’s unpredictable.’
‘Ha! Yes!’ This is an entirely honest guffaw.
‘They called him the Polygraph. In the Homicide Squad. Did you know that?’
I shake my head, willing Hugh to continue.
‘He had a talent…Well, this is what they said. He could tell ifsomeone was lying. I mean, always. Branches all over Victoria used to bring him in for interrogations, he got that famous for it. He was a legend. For a while.’
That pulls the curtain back on last night. Perhaps Tyan knew I was no journalist from the start, from the moment I called him with my face to the glass in the smoking grotto downstairs. He met with me and nodded along to my questions, all the while seeing through my bullshit with a superpower he’d cultivated for years and which is, I can say with confidence, not hereditary.
‘Did he ever help you out like that?’
‘Not me. People I worked with, yeah. It got to the point where career crims were making deals just so they didn’t have to talk to him. But of course, that was before…you know.’
‘Sure,’ I say.
No idea what he means.
‘I guess I don’t consider him the laughing stock that other police do. To me it’s more sad than anything else. Every bloody year they do a skit about him at the Union Ball too, and that’s brutal. I mean, the whole thing happened, what, ten years ago? They’re still so brutal. I suppose it is funny. But it’s just sad more than anything.’
‘Right. Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.’
‘He’s the cautionary tale, right? The thing every officer is scared of becoming.’
‘Can I ask…’ I try to seem chatty, ‘Do you know exactly why he left the police force?’
It’s the question that bugged me last night, that seemed to bug Tyan even more.
‘Well, I mean, that’s…that’s what I’m…’
Suspicion comes. I’ve misstepped. Hugh’s face pinches.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t be discussing this—’
‘ No no no ,’ I say, too earnest. ‘It’s all right . I’m just curious .’
But Hugh can see that that’s not true— his polygraph kicking in, his brain backpedalling.
‘I mean…I don’t work there anymore, but VicPol kind of doesn’t like it when people talk out of school.’
Somehow my body language or my tone of voice has
Similar Books
