brownie points.
Not long after the men had left,
Charlie, one of the drug operators suddenly appeared, looking somewhat
agitated.
‘I gotta talk to ya about
something,’ he said to Bradbury, looking around to ensure the roller door was
secured.
‘Okay, so what’s on your mind,
Charlie?’
‘It’s like this. Reynolds has
been taken care of and so too Mitch in the park, but I’m shit scared about what
the O’Neill girl knows. She’s still in hospital and I’ve heard she’s gonna pull
through. Reynolds overheard some pretty heavy shit that night, but we dunno if
he told the girl. Stupid bitch for interfering and being with him that morning!’
‘Hang on a moment. The cops would’ve
interviewed her by now and we’ve heard nothing from our sources. O’Neill might
be one of your pushers, but she has no knowledge of a connection with
Broadbent, and besides, she knows the consequences for double-crossing.’
‘That’s not me problem. I’ve
gotta look after me own interests ‘cause I’m her contact and the only one she
knows. It’s what she might do that friggin’ worries me. We can’t take any
risks.’
‘Okay, we’ll talk to Sol about it
and then get clearance from the regional head on how this will be handled.’
~ * ~
T
he
funeral of Jake Reynolds took place on Wednesday morning, attended by a large
outpouring of public sympathy. Representatives from local government and
various sporting bodies, schools and organisations were present to pay their
last respects. The service was longer than most as a result of the many
eulogies delivered from people in Jake’s varied but short life.
The coffin sat on a chrome
trolley in front of the altar draped in the colours of his favourite football
team. The service was a celebration of life rather than the traditional sombre
affair. I thought this was a fitting tribute and one that I’m sure Jake would
have preferred. It was the largest funeral I had ever attended.
Phillip held himself together
exceptionally well and there was no shortage of people coming forward offering
their condolences to the poor soul. I noticed Martha Kellett comforting Emily
at one stage. Emily was not handling the situation very well and Ruth Evans’
mouth was working overtime with some reporter from The Advertiser. I
caught a glimpse of Helen talking to James Slattery and also noticed four
police officers standing at a respectable distance, observing the proceedings.
The presence of two men in
particular, who were standing alone, struck me as somewhat unusual. To the best
of my knowledge, both Stephen Buchanan and Ben Johnson had had little contact
with Jake, so why would the publican and banker attend his funeral? I could
only conclude that both men contributed financially to his sporting connections
and felt the need to pay their last respects. Thank goodness they had patched
up their differences since the car incident.
All six pallbearers appeared to
be around Jake’s age, most likely friends from his earlier school days or
sporting club. The immediate mourning party was a noticeably small gathering.
They probably only ever got together at weddings or funerals. Following the
burial, Emily approached me to take her home.
~ * ~
Early
that afternoon, in room 127 at Pedley District Hospital, Forbes and Marsh were
set to commence their second round of questions with Brigit O’Neill. This time
they were hopeful of extracting some relevant information in light of what
James Slattery had told them.
‘Brigit, it’s good to see you’re
improving,’ Forbes said. ‘Today we need to discuss some further matters that
have been brought to our attention. It would appear from our source that you’re
involved in the local drug trade. Please enlighten us as to what your role is.’
Brigit’s reaction was not so much
surprise as defiance. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Come now, Brigit,
Not long after the men had left,
Charlie, one of the drug operators suddenly appeared, looking somewhat
agitated.
‘I gotta talk to ya about
something,’ he said to Bradbury, looking around to ensure the roller door was
secured.
‘Okay, so what’s on your mind,
Charlie?’
‘It’s like this. Reynolds has
been taken care of and so too Mitch in the park, but I’m shit scared about what
the O’Neill girl knows. She’s still in hospital and I’ve heard she’s gonna pull
through. Reynolds overheard some pretty heavy shit that night, but we dunno if
he told the girl. Stupid bitch for interfering and being with him that morning!’
‘Hang on a moment. The cops would’ve
interviewed her by now and we’ve heard nothing from our sources. O’Neill might
be one of your pushers, but she has no knowledge of a connection with
Broadbent, and besides, she knows the consequences for double-crossing.’
‘That’s not me problem. I’ve
gotta look after me own interests ‘cause I’m her contact and the only one she
knows. It’s what she might do that friggin’ worries me. We can’t take any
risks.’
‘Okay, we’ll talk to Sol about it
and then get clearance from the regional head on how this will be handled.’
~ * ~
T
he
funeral of Jake Reynolds took place on Wednesday morning, attended by a large
outpouring of public sympathy. Representatives from local government and
various sporting bodies, schools and organisations were present to pay their
last respects. The service was longer than most as a result of the many
eulogies delivered from people in Jake’s varied but short life.
The coffin sat on a chrome
trolley in front of the altar draped in the colours of his favourite football
team. The service was a celebration of life rather than the traditional sombre
affair. I thought this was a fitting tribute and one that I’m sure Jake would
have preferred. It was the largest funeral I had ever attended.
Phillip held himself together
exceptionally well and there was no shortage of people coming forward offering
their condolences to the poor soul. I noticed Martha Kellett comforting Emily
at one stage. Emily was not handling the situation very well and Ruth Evans’
mouth was working overtime with some reporter from The Advertiser. I
caught a glimpse of Helen talking to James Slattery and also noticed four
police officers standing at a respectable distance, observing the proceedings.
The presence of two men in
particular, who were standing alone, struck me as somewhat unusual. To the best
of my knowledge, both Stephen Buchanan and Ben Johnson had had little contact
with Jake, so why would the publican and banker attend his funeral? I could
only conclude that both men contributed financially to his sporting connections
and felt the need to pay their last respects. Thank goodness they had patched
up their differences since the car incident.
All six pallbearers appeared to
be around Jake’s age, most likely friends from his earlier school days or
sporting club. The immediate mourning party was a noticeably small gathering.
They probably only ever got together at weddings or funerals. Following the
burial, Emily approached me to take her home.
~ * ~
Early
that afternoon, in room 127 at Pedley District Hospital, Forbes and Marsh were
set to commence their second round of questions with Brigit O’Neill. This time
they were hopeful of extracting some relevant information in light of what
James Slattery had told them.
‘Brigit, it’s good to see you’re
improving,’ Forbes said. ‘Today we need to discuss some further matters that
have been brought to our attention. It would appear from our source that you’re
involved in the local drug trade. Please enlighten us as to what your role is.’
Brigit’s reaction was not so much
surprise as defiance. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Come now, Brigit,
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