Golden Relic Read Online Free

Rivers laughed. "Where he was before that, is anyone's
guess."
    They passed through a door on the next landing and entered another hallway at the end of which
Sam could see and hear the obvious signs of a crime scene investigation in progress: police tape,
police officers, police cameras and a familiar voice booming at everyone to get the hell out of the
way.
    "Am I allowed to know why you're here, Detective Diamond?" Rivers asked. "I mean, what interest
does the ACB have in all this?"
    "Somewhere amongst all those phone calls this morning," Sam explained, "someone also rang my boss
- in Canberra - who rang me, at lunch on my day off, and said 'get down there and have a look at
that body'. So here I am, at the end of a rather long queue of spectators by the sounds of it."
    "Is that Sam?" It was those familiar bellowing tones again, fast approaching the doorway Sam and
Rivers were about to enter. "It's about bloody time she got here."
    Detective-Sergeant Jack Rigby, all six-foot-five and three miles wide of him, came barrelling out
of the room. Sam stepped aside; the Constable didn't stand a chance.
    "Damn it Jack," Sam said, helping Rivers up from the floor, "this is not a football field."
    "The boy is half my size and age Sam, he should have better reflexes." Rigby placed a hand on
Rivers' shoulder. "Isn't that right son?"
    "Yes sir. Whatever you say," Rivers smiled.
    "Good. Now step aside," Rigby commanded and then wrapped Sam in a bear hug that left her
breathless. "Completely unprofessional, I know," he said, letting her go. "But it is so good to see
you."
    "And it's reassuring to find you haven't changed a bit, Jack," Sam stated, giving him the once
over. Jack Rigby's clear blue and ever-watchful eyes were the most noticeable things about him,
apart from his height and despite the almost comical distortion of his ex-boxer's nose. His crew cut
had turned quite grey since she'd last seen him but Sam felt sure that her mother, who'd met him
briefly two years before, would still describe him as a fine and handsome man.
    Despite Rigby's sheer bulk, which was all bone and muscle, not an ounce of fat, and his loud,
irascible and at times downright stubborn personality, he was an agile and surprisingly gentle man.
He'd probably seen the results of more terminally violent crime than anyone else in the city, yet
away from work his relaxed demeanour and untroubled personality was more akin to someone who'd spent
his life working in the Botanic Gardens.
    "Now that the pleasantries are over," Rigby began, "what the hell are you doing here?"
    "It's just a guess Jack, but I'd say it's probably the same thing you're doing," Sam stated.
    Rigby cocked his head on the side and squinted down at Sam. "Doc Baird says the guy probably had
a stroke, so it looks like even we're not needed here," he said. "And if it does turn out to be
murder then you can't get more local than a homicide in the heart of the city. This is barely
State-related let alone Federal. Therefore I'll rephrase my question: why are you here? What
interest does the Australian Crime Bureau have in the demise of Professor Marsden in there?"
    Sam shrugged. "Jim Pilger called me at Walter's Wine Bar, where I was enjoying my day off, and
told me to get down here and check things out."
    "Pilger? The Minister of …Whatever. That Pilger?" Rigby was baffled.
    "Yes, Pilger the Minister for Cultural Affairs," Sam agreed. "He's my new boss, in that he is top
of the tree when it comes to the Bureau's Cultural Affairs Department."
    Rigby looked blank, which was a rare occurrence.
    "I've been transferred from Major Crimes to the ACB's CAD," Sam explained. "I was going to
Canberra this evening, for six weeks, to be briefed on my new job but instead I find myself here:
still standing in the hallway; still lacking any real information about this situation; in fact,
still without having laid eyes on the actual body - homicide victim or not."
    "Cultural Affairs? That explains the way you're