Drive By Page 8

  Salim got bail for Rafi after the mama agreed to put up a hundred thousand dollars that Farid had waiting in a car outside the court. Farid wasn’t inside the court because Salim said it might inflame the situation. What? said Rafi. What do you mean, inflame the situation? Like who gives a fuck about some shitbag like Jason Teller getting knocked? Yeah, said Salim, but we is wanting the court to be thinking about you today, not your brother. If that is all right with you? I could see he was starting to get annoyed with Rafiq and this made me tense. Mr White had never got annoyed with any of us brothers.

  But Salim was doing his best for the family and when we got out of the court he said he would come over that night to discuss legal strategy. Rafi went on like it was the end of the world because he couldn’t go out to some club. Then he asked if Salim could come to his place in Alexandria and Salim is grabbing his shoulders. I don’t know if you was listening in there, he goes, but one of your bail conditions is you must move back to your parents’ home right now. Then they have an argument like this is a complete surprise to Rafi and it is Salim’s fault. I have to say I am starting to worry about my little brother at this time.

  When Salim called that night to say he was working late and couldn’t make it, Rafi got up from the lounge and said he was going out. I got to tell you it would have been good for the rest of us if he had, because having Rafi at home was not so pleasant. First he’d been eating his kafta on the couch, not at the dinner table like the rest of us, like he was some skip or something, then later he’d been trying to get Shada to bring him his slippers like the papa does and they is having a big argument about the woman’s role. So now I say, Rafi, it is a condition of bail you have a curfew that means you do not leave the house after 6 pm. That is bullshit, he said. I said, If you are breaking the bail conditions Farid will lose his hundred thou. Rafi gets angry and tells me this story about a boy who is breaking his conditions of bail and gets caught and his parents never lost their bail money. So Rafi and me have this big argument and after a while the mama and papa calms us down and everyone is feeling much better.

  Just then Farid turns up because he is still thinking Salim is coming. I explain Salim is in some crisis because of the Omar stabbing he is working on, that Adam guy who got done in front of two hundred people at a party and none of them is seeing anything.

  When Farid hears this he gets angry and says, Fuck fuck, was I not telling the jahesh not to take any more work from other people? Then he goes into the backyard and makes a phone call, and when he comes back he is shaking his head angrily and tells us men to come out into the yard with him.

  When we is there he says to Rafi, This is such bullshit. And Rafi says, That is what it is—I never killed anyone I never went to Gallipoli Park that night no way. This is all about getting at you through me, bro. Farid says, So what is their evidence? and Rafi says, Maybe Salim needs to be here, he is my lawyer, and I know he is wanting to get off to that club. He is your lawyer, says Farid, but I am paying him, just like I will be paying that greedy Ferguson cunt ten thousand dollars a day for your trial. This is going to cost the family over two hundred K, do you see that?

  Rafi shrugs like he doesn’t want to think about the money but he sits down and Farid says, Is that you on the phone? No way bro no way, goes Rafiq. I swear to God the jacks has made it all up to frame one of the family I am the weak link in the chain. They cannot get you or Baiyeh or Honest John, so they has come for me.

  That is a terrible thing, says Farid, pulling on his beard and looking at Rafi, who is crying and hugging the mama, who has come out to the yard even though the papa told her to stay inside. Farid looks like he is believing Rafiq about the phone recording being a fake. P’raps it is true. Farid tells him to stop acting like a child, which I have never seen him do before. I always thought I was the only one who thought Rafi acts like a child sometimes. I see then for the first time Farid being cold in a business kind of way, cold like the way I feel when I work on a car, and this is very interesting to me. Because of the line in the sand, I have not seen him in a business situation before, and he has always been just like a brother. Now I am reminded of Mr Wilson at work.

  But suddenly Farid is warm again and I see how quickly he can change his mood, while a man like me is trying to work things out, Farid can change in a second. And when he is warm like now it makes you feel warm too, it’s like his brain has got into yours. He says, I have seen the jacks do lots of bad things: beat people up plant drugs and stuff steal money. But Salim says this is a new thing. I see Farid has talked to Salim already and knows more than he is telling us, which he always does. Rafi shakes his head and says, It is a sad day for the family. Farid asks where he went that night Jason Teller was killed and Rafi says it was to meet his mate Edi Sande in Auburn to lend him some money. Farid says, These phone taps is done under tight supervision by the Telephone Intercept Branch, they need to get a warrant first and there is a paper trail, jacks in suits will stand up in court and say no one has ever faked one of these before and what you are saying is false. He says this but not like he is angry, like he is interested in what Rafiq thinks.

  That is just why they is doing it, Rafi says, because it is a new thing this faking and no one will suspect. Then he goes off and swears this and that and Farid looks at him, looks at me, and waits for Rafi to stop. I swear this is true, Rafi says, on the Qur’an and on the lives of my family. If it is not true, Farid says, now is the time to tell us because we can still work out an alternative defence. They got that stupid interview you done without a lawyer—he looks at me and his eyes is cold for a second—but we can work out something. But if you keep swearing this there will be no way we can change it later. So what do you say?

  What Rafi does is talk a lot more about God and how he never hurt Jason Teller and was not there that night and this is a conspiracy against the family. And the papa is crying and patting Rafi on the back and I is nodding my head because it makes sense. The jacks is hating us Habibs so much since Imad’s crew shot up the police station we have been expecting them to do something and now they have. So it is the jacks not the Deebs killing Teller and setting us up. Or p’raps it is both together because everyone knows that Sam Deeb has the jacks in his pocket and all the politicians.

  I already told Salim, Rafi says, I lost my phone at a club on the Saturday night or maybe in a taxi. At the clubs I leave it lying on the tables like everyone else, if some undercover cop is wanting to frame me like this he could easily steal my phone that way. Farid is nodding at that. He says, You got a new phone? Sure, says Rafi. When I got the new phone this Telstra chick told me someone is still using my old one so I put a block on it. You got a new number for the new phone? goes Farid. Sure, says Rafi, that is what she told me to do. Here is the receipt. He pulls it out of his wallet and gives it to Farid, who reads it and nods his head again. This is good stuff, bro, he says. We will get some telco guy to prove the phone call is false. He is looking happy tonight for the first time in this business, just like he always does when he has worked out how to make things be the way he wants them.

  The Surry

  Two hours after they’d found the sports bag, the inspector announced, ‘Four hundred and twenty-seven thousand dollars, two hundred and eighty.’

  That much money, it took a while to count. The camera guy had had to change his memory card towards the end. Bec had picked out twenty notes at random and given them to crime scene when they turned up. They’d pulled some prints, nothing useful, no repeats. Were doing some DNA swabs now, just for the hell of it.

  That evening, a Beldin film night, Burchell showed the video footage from The Surry’s lobby camera. There was much interest in the identity of the two visitors who appeared to have taken away the safe, but the footage was grainy. Bec had read that eighty per cent of CCTV was too poor to be used in court.

  The woman had broad shoulders, a ponytail poking out the back of her cap. Moved with confidence and grace, Bec suspected she was an athlete.

/>   ‘Might be Sharon Zames,’ said Burchell, ‘Teller’s girlfriend, also from Melbourne. Right hair, shape, clothes.’

  ‘Distinctive tits,’ Easterley observed helpfully.

  ‘The concierge hasn’t seen her before, she doesn’t live there. Normally she would have come in by car with Teller, gone straight up to his flat in the lift. No ID on the bloke.’

  The second sequence showed the pair coming out twenty minutes later, the box still on the trolley.

  Bec said, ‘No prints on the angle grinder.’

  ‘They really wanted that safe.’

  ‘We don’t know why,’ Knight said. ‘We observed four of Teller’s associates outside The Surry late this morning, after the news broke. They wanted to come in but we had someone downstairs.’ This was news to Bec. ‘Steve Beric was away all night, came home at eleven and wanted to get in too, said he needed his medication. We offered to get it for him but he’d forgotten the name.’

  There’d been no medication in the flat.

  ‘So someone knew about the safe, but not the money,’ Burchell said.

  It was one of those puzzles that seemed to get harder with thinking about it.

  ‘When did the news break?’ said Bec.

  ‘The first radio was 10 am.’

  ‘Sharon Zames came in at 8.15 am.’

  ‘Put it on the list.’ Of unanswered questions.

  ‘Final sequence,’ Burchell said, hitting the keyboard. ‘This car is registered to John Habib, Rafiq’s brother.’

  Different camera: Bec saw a Porsche Carrera come up the driveway from The Surry’s underground car park. The driver’s face was hidden behind the window reflection.

  ‘Beautiful machine,’ said Knight softly. ‘I drove one once. It wasn’t like driving a car, it was—’

  ‘Like making love?’ Burchell said.

  ‘You heard the joke: this car nut puts up a message on Facebook, “I can’t wait for the next 911.” He gets 20,000 Muslim friends in twenty-four hours.’ Laughter. ‘So, how come young Rafiq has a Porsche?’

  ‘They all have nice wheels,’ Gorton said. ‘Imad had a Ferrari, Farid’s got a Bentley and a Hummer. Only John’s normal, drives a RAV.’

  ‘Honest John.’ Knight looked back at the screen. ‘We know how long the Carrera had been there?’

  ‘Teller hired the space three weeks ago. Already had one for his LandCruiser, needed another. We interviewed the owner of the adjacent spot, she says the Porsche was there every day.’

  Knight tapped the screen. ‘A car like that, you don’t let another man take it from you. I want to know what was in Teller’s mind. Find Beric and Sharon Zames.’

  They all stood up and stretched, keen to go. An investigation is like hunger.

  DAY FIVE

  Mabey: ‘Did you interview a man named Steve Beric on 7 April?’

  Knight: ‘We caught up with him via his mobile and he came in to do an interview with his solicitor.’

  Mabey: ‘Did you ask him where he’d been on the night of Jason Teller’s death?’

  Knight: ‘Yes. He said he was at a mate’s place with a few other people. They had a lot to drink and Mr Beric was concerned about road safety, so he decided to sleep over.’

  Mabey: ‘You confirmed this?’

  Knight: ‘He has five witnesses.’

  Mabey: ‘And did you ask him about his fingerprints on Mr Teller’s car that was found at Gallipoli Park?’

  Knight: ‘He said he borrowed the vehicle from time to time.’

  Mabey: ‘What were the other main things covered in the interview?’

  Knight: ‘He said he had no knowledge of what Jason Teller kept in his safe or about the cash we found. It was Teller’s flat and he kept a lot of stuff in Beric’s room. He said he thought someone had given Teller the Carrera as a present. He said Teller was a gentle man who did not engage in drug dealing and had no enemies, and he had no idea why anyone would want to kill him.’

  Mabey: ‘Did you think Mr Beric was being entirely truthful with you?’

  Ferguson: ‘Objection!’

  Mabey: ‘This witness is an experienced police officer with considerable expertise in assessing the truthfulness of interviewees.’

  Judge: ‘Please, Madam Crown.’

  Mabey: ‘Did you ask him about Teller’s other friends?’

  Knight: ‘I did. Mr Beric terminated the interview at that point. His lawyer said he had decided to assert his right to silence.’

  Mabey: ‘How did you respond?’

  Knight: ‘I indicated we would be approaching the Crime Commission and asking them to have a chat with him.’

  Mabey: ‘They have the power to force people to make statements?’

  Knight: ‘They have various ways of encouraging them.’

  Mabey: ‘And as I understand it, Mr Beric has not been able to be located by the authorities since the interview with you? His phone no longer answers?’

  Knight: ‘Correct.’

  Mabey: ‘Do you have any concerns for his safety?’

  Knight: ‘I’d have concerns for anyone who’s not been seen for ten months, yes.’

  Mabey: ‘And Ms Zames, she disappeared too, after you interviewed her?’

  Knight: ‘So I understand.’

  Mabey: ‘That’s the end of the evidence-in-chief.’

  Sydney Police Centre, Strike Force Room 2

  Sharon Zames’s body verged on boyish without suggesting it for a moment: tall, broad-shouldered, the only significant curves her breasts, which were obscured today by a loose white T-shirt worn beneath a blue jacket and over grey leggings. Probably her hips were rounded, but they too were hidden by the jacket. Bec wondered about the surname: she looked Anglo with the long blonde hair pulled back, tanned skin. Croatian maybe? Aware she was attractive, this enhancing her beauty. The way it does.

  Knight had told Bec she’d be at the interview only five minutes ago, Burchell needed elsewhere. He’d said nothing more, so now she waited while he ran through the preliminaries, accepting the slightly mocking gaze Zames occasionally threw her way.

  Zames was heavily made up and there was a puffiness around her eyes. She must be in a state of distress, just two days after her boyfriend’s death. Hiding her emotion from them. Bec wanted to tell her this was not necessary, but of course you could not do that. You pushed the sympathy aside and waited for the lies: always there were the lies.

  When they got going, Zames told them she was going back to Melbourne to see her family and some old friends. Would stay a while, possibly go overseas after the funeral. At the moment she wasn’t making any plans. Picked up her bag from the chair next to her—Louis Vuitton—and took out a tissue, paused and looked at the detectives. Bec waited for tears but there were none, she just blew her nose.

  Knight pushed a photo from The Surry’s CCTV across the table. It showed the woman in the foyer with the man and the trolley, carrying the safe from Teller’s apartment. Presumably.

  ‘That’s you, isn’t it?’

  Zames picked it up, had a good look, putting herself at ease. Her fingers were long, nails medium-length. Bec estimated she was about thirty, had spent time in the sun, hence the lines around the blue eyes. She needed to look after her skin more.

  ‘No,’ she said, putting it down slowly.

  First lie.

  ‘It looks like you,’ said Knight.

  ‘I think I look like a lot of girls.’ Glanced at Bec. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘What were you doing the morning after Jason was shot, around 8.30 am?’

  ‘Woke up just after seven, Sally-Anne called, a friend. Told me the news.’

  ‘It wasn’t released until later that morning. How did she know?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  Second lie.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I went for a run. A long one.’

  And so they came.

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘Sure. Not many people can keep up with me.’

 
; Another look at Bec. She explained how Teller and she had had a casual relationship for just under two years. She’d worked all that time as a receptionist and Pilates instructor at Jackson’s Gym at Bondi Beach. Agreed one of the clients was Sam Deeb, who attended three or four mornings a week. She knew Sam, on several occasions had been to parties at his apartment with Jason.

  ‘Were you seeing other men, apart from Teller?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You didn’t live together?’

  ‘We’d stay over at each other’s place. But we needed our own space.’

  It seemed like she was reciting words prepared beforehand. But people could be robotic after the death of a loved one, Bec had seen it before.

  ‘Were you aware Jason was dealing drugs?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you know Sam Deeb owned Java?’

  ‘No. I guessed about some of this stuff, I assumed Jace wasn’t squeaky clean exactly, because of his job and the people he knew. But I never saw anything or knew any of the details. I don’t know who would have wanted him dead.’

  She was more fluent lying than telling the truth.

  ‘You saw him take drugs?’

  ‘Sure. Everyone does.’

  ‘Do you?’

  She eyed Knight with contempt. ‘No.’

  She didn’t tell them much they didn’t know. Afterwards, as Bec was showing her out of the station, Zames looked at her hesitantly, and Bec thought she was close to collapsing. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Never better. You like your job?’

  ‘I like it a lot. It must be interesting, being a personal trainer.’

  Bec felt incredibly stupid, and Zames liked this, she leaned her head back a little and laughed. ‘You are fucking kidding.’ Then she touched Bec’s shoulder, said, ‘Good bye, Mrs Policeman.’

  Later, Knight said to her, ‘Zames and you in the interview. You met before?’