Blood Sunset

28



I SNEAKED INTO THE watch-house via the back and sent a text to Cassie asking her to meet me in the mess room.
‘Where’s the disk?’ I said when she came in.
‘On your desk, why?’
I nodded, relieved, then thanked her.
‘Why?’ she said again.
‘Because I thought you might’ve given it to them.’
‘That’s your guilty conscience, Rubens. The disk should be with them,’ she said, checking over her shoulder and stepping closer. ‘If you want my advice, and you want to keep your job, you’ll take it in to Eckles right now.’
‘Look, let’s just put in a request to have the techs take a look at the laptop,’ I said. ‘That way we’re not holding out on anything and we’re not making judgements based on a few pictures.’
‘A few pictures?’ she hissed. ‘I saw that boy this morning. Some sicko cut his throat so deep it damn near severed his head. Don’t tell me all we’re talking about is kiddie porn, okay?’
‘Okay, okay!’ I said, raising my hands. ‘But either way, Computer Crime will have to analyse the laptop. If I give it to Eckles, they’ll do it for him and report back to him. But if we give it to them, we’ll stay in the loop. I mean, don’t pretend after seeing that kid this morning you don’t want to get this guy?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Then trust me. Put in a request for Computer Crime to check out the laptop. Do you know anyone who works over there?’
‘Yeah, I know someone,’ she finally said.
‘So give them a call and tell them it’s a hot one. Give them a few details, but not too many. Just enough to get them interested. I’m sure they won’t mind working a Sunday for this.’
I stepped around her and crossed to the conference room adjoining Eckles’ office. Through the window, I recognised most of the people in there, except a woman in a beige suit pointing to a whiteboard. I opened the door and the woman stopped talking.
‘Ah, sorry,’ I said as everyone turned to look at me.
Two large colour photographs hung on the whiteboard. One was the man I’d spoken to at Café Vit on the day of Dallas Boyd’s murder. Gervas Kirzek. The other was an elderly man I didn’t recognise. Beneath him was the name ‘Karl Vitazul’.
‘Sit down, McCauley,’ said Eckles, pointing to a seat opposite him. ‘This is Fiona Johns. She’s a forensic psychologist on loan from the Feds and is bringing us up to speed on the man we’re after.’
Nik Stello sat across the table, flanked by three other detectives from the Homicide Squad. I nodded but none of them nodded back. To my left were an SOG sergeant, the divisional superintendent and two inspectors. I didn’t acknowledge any of them. Instead I looked at the woman in front of the whiteboard, who cleared her throat and used a pen to point to the elderly man on the right.
‘Karl Vitazul arrived in Australia in 1987, just prior to the collapse of the Ceauescu government in Romania,’ she explained. ‘The name Vitazul, by the way, means “brave man”. Not sure whether that’s relevant, but from what the Immigration Department records show, he was granted refugee status under the claim he was fleeing the Romanian dictatorship. We believe Karl Vitazul married a Romanian woman and subsequently moved to Brashov in Transylvania, where he worked for the Communist government. In effect, he lied to gain entry and residence in Australia.’
There were groans at the table as everyone feigned surprise.
‘We believe they were unable to have children of their own and so fostered a child from one of the notorious orphanages in Romania, known as leaganes,’ she continued, pointing to the other photograph on the whiteboard. ‘Gervas Kirzek.’
I began taking notes, as was everyone at the table except the SOG sergeant. He didn’t need to know any of this for his mission. All he needed was an address.
‘According to intel,’ Johns went on, ‘and this comes straight from the spooks in Canberra, Kirzek was born in 1960 in a village outside Brashov. We don’t know who his biological parents were, but ASIO believe he was fostered out of the orphanage at age four, after which he lived with the Vitazuls until he was eighteen. He joined the Securiate where he remained until the age of thirty when –’
‘The security what?’ the superintendent asked.
‘The Sec-u-ri-ate,’ Johns said, writing it on the whiteboard. ‘The Communist Party’s secret political police. They were responsible for guarding the internal security of the Ceauescu regime and suppressing any dissident groups that criticised or challenged it.’ She crossed her arms and turned to the photo of Kirzek. ‘I’ve seen pictures and read personal accounts of the tactics they used to achieve this. They trained their recruits in slaughterhouses and used live pigs as practice. Trust me, they were barbarians.’
I thought about the boy who’d been murdered in Talbot Reserve and Cassie’s words reverberated in my mind. Some sicko cut his throat so deep it damn near severed his head. I wanted to tell them about the laptop, the disk and the connection with Justin Quinn, but decided to wait until the end of the meeting.
‘In 1990, the Ceauescu dictatorship collapsed and the Securiate scattered,’ Johns went on. ‘Some fled to the US or Britain, others left for more remote and accepting countries in West Africa or South America. Kirzek disappeared for seven years, then guess where he turned up?’
Several people answered at once. ‘Australia.’
‘Right, but not Melbourne,’ Johns replied, pointing at the picture of the elderly man. ‘The foster father, Karl Vitazul, sponsored him and Kirzek was granted residency. This is where it gets interesting. Kirzek spent seven years in Sydney and clocked up a decent docket, mostly for sex offences and assault. Then in 2004 the stepfather died and Kirzek saw an opportunity to start afresh and pick up some inheritance, so he moved into the Elwood residence and took over the café, then buys himself a BMW, under the old man’s name, of course.’
‘What about the foster mother?’ I asked, writing it all down. ‘Is she accounted for?’
Stello glanced at Eckles, who glared across the table at me. Eckles had probably told Stello I wouldn’t be involved any further in the investigation. Cassie was right. The only reason Eckles had called me back was to keep an eye on me. The Federal Police, on the other hand, obviously weren’t privy to this.
‘Good question,’ said Johns. ‘Immigration records show Vitazul entered Australia with his wife. But we checked with death registrations. She died in 1997, just before Kirzek arrived in Australia.’
I made a note about this as Johns elaborated.
‘So you have an elderly man running a café in Melbourne. His wife dies and suddenly he’s alone. He contacts his foster son in Europe, tells him he’ll sponsor his immigration to Australia. They set it up, and Kirzek moves out here. Now let’s think about the psychopathology. He’s been part of an institution for the greater part of his life.’ She pointed at the picture of Kirzek then began counting fingers. ‘First, the orphanage. Second, the foster care system. Then, when he’s eighteen, he joins the Securiate, where for ten years he learns how to disembowel pigs – and probably humans – with a filleting knife. Then, all these years later, he shows up in St Kilda as your suspect. Isn’t really surprising, is it?’
Everybody stared at the photo of Kirzek and for a while nobody said anything. Then, finally, Eckles spoke up. ‘Well, thanks for that, Fiona. If it turns out this prick is our guy, we’ll make sure he spends the rest of his life in another kind of institution.’ Getting up, he turned to Stello. ‘I want to wrap this up. How are you placed?’
‘All set. We’ve put this photo out through all media networks and got extra staff at Crime Stoppers to take the calls.’
Eckles nodded. ‘So what now?’
‘We’re heading back to the Elwood house. They’re still down there and last I heard the guy’s a keeper. No BMW in the garage, but a fair stack of movie magic. Lights, cameras and all sorts of action.’
Eckles looked across at the SOG sergeant. The man’s black T-shirt was stretched tight over thick slabs of muscle and across his chest was an imprint of the SOG helmet and a machine gun. Beneath it were the words: Always Bet on Black.
‘Good as gold,’ the sergeant said. ‘Just give me an address and we’ll take him down.’
‘Right then, that’s it.’
Everyone else stood up, ready to roll. Eckles leant across the table and put a hand on my shoulder.
‘Not you, sunshine. We’re not done yet,’ he said, nodding towards his office.

He closed the door and drew the blinds so no one could see in. ‘I don’t know why you’re doing this,’ he said.
‘Doing what?’ I asked.
‘Shut up!’ he cut in. ‘I didn’t ask you to speak. When I want to hear your voice, I’ll ask you to speak. Now sit down.’
‘I know why you’re angry, but we don’t have time for it now.’
‘What?’
‘We don’t have time for this. I think we need to –’
‘I don’t care what you think!’ he hissed. ‘You don’t seem to understand that. And you don’t seem to get that I’m the boss. I’m in charge. I make the rules. I decide what’s important and what we have time for. Now sit your arse in that chair or I’ll make sure you never work here again.’
‘I know why you’re pissed off, and I’m sorry,’ I said, easing into the chair.
‘Sorry?’ he sneered, leaning over his desk. ‘Sorry won’t cut it. You have no idea how much shit you are in, pal. I personally signed an agreement with ESD to have you on carer’s leave, basically gave you a get-out-of-strife pass, for free.’
‘Oh, turn it up. You made that deal to cover your own arse because you couldn’t accept we missed a curve ball on the overdose.’
Eckles snorted. ‘You missed the curve ball. Not me, not anyone else. You! That’s why I sent you packing. Only you couldn’t cop it. You went after the stepfather, manhandled him like a schoolyard bully. That’ll cost you big time when ESD come around.’
I crossed my arms, silent, fuming.
‘But that’s not all. I know you questioned the kid’s girlfriend. Jesus Christ, McCauley. You took the bloody social worker along for the ride. Mate, I’ve even got you questioning the clerk at the 7-Eleven.’ Eckles let his knowledge hang in the air like a bad smell, then added, ‘If ESD get a hold of all that, it’s strike number three for you.’
‘What do you want, Ben?’ I asked calmly.
‘Tell me what else you know.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know exactly what I mean,’ he said, his face the colour of ripe beetroot, two veins protruding from his neck. ‘What kind of f*cking idiot do you think I am? Either give me what else you’ve got on this, or I make a call to ESD and tell them about you gallivanting all over the joint while you’re supposed to be at home on the couch.
‘I have a witness,’ I said, accepting defeat.
‘What?’
‘Well, sort of,’ I started, then explained my contact with Stuart Parks and how he’d pointed me in the direction of Kirzek before the Homicide Squad had officially identified him as a suspect. I also told him about the disk and the pornography of both Dallas Boyd and Justin Quinn, the boy who’d been murdered the previous night, and how Sparks had stolen the laptop from Kirzek’s house in Elwood.
When I was done, Eckles sat wide-eyed and silent. I could almost see the political cogs in his brain turning.
‘Kirzek murdered that kid last night, as well as Boyd?’ he said.
‘I think so.’
‘So where’s the laptop?’
‘In transit,’ I lied. ‘There’s a request for the Computer Crime Squad to check it out as we speak.’
‘Not good enough. This is a murder investigation, McCauley. It needs to be with Homicide. I want you to call Computer Crime and have them contact Stello ASAP. Is that clear?’
‘Fine.’
‘I’ve given you too much slack, McCauley. That’s your problem. You’re like a dog off a lead, pissing all over the place. Now it’s time to put you on a choker-chain. Make the call to Computer Crime, then stay the hell away from this case.’
I was about to respond when the SOG sergeant opened the door, now dressed in a black jumpsuit, Kevlar helmet in his hands.
‘Sorry, sir,’ he said to Eckles. ‘Thought you’d want to know. Somebody called Crime Stoppers and made an ID on Kirzek. Said he’d just seen him. We’ve got an address.’
Eckles raised his eyebrows. ‘Where?’
‘Apartment in South Yarra. We’re ready to crash and bash. You wanna roll?’
‘Sure.’ Eckles followed the sergeant out then turned back to me. ‘Don’t f*ck this up, McCauley. You get that laptop to Homicide and piss off home.’