St Kilda Blues Read Online Free Page B

sharp knife. Looks like they kept her tied up someplace, she had nasty rope burns on her wrists and ankles. The investigating detectives kept that part out of the papers, you know, because of the parents.’
    Berlin closed his eyes, picturing the desperate faces of parents begging him for news of their children. He tried to remember the faces of the three girls he had been searching for before he was transferred to the fraud squad. He couldn’t picture them and didn’t know if he should be glad of it or ashamed.
    â€˜Charlie?’
    He opened his eyes. ‘I’m listening, Bob, go on.’
    â€˜I said I’ve got the files on the missing girls and the Marquet photo­graphs and autopsy report out in the car. I didn’t want to bring them in, you know, with Rebecca, and the girl being a young’un like Sarah.’
    Berlin saw a flash of a younger Bob Roberts in the comment. ‘Thanks, Bob, but Rebecca doesn’t need protecting, she’s probably tougher than both of us put together. Who’s the dad with all the pull, by the way? Got you out of Sunshine’s bed so bright and early.’
    He regretted the Sunshine comment as soon as he made it. It seemed for a moment that Roberts was going to respond but then he looked down and crushed out his cigarette butt in the ashtray. He did it very slowly and deliberately though.
    â€˜The girl’s father is Gerhardt Scheiner, you’ve probably heard of him.’
    â€˜The builder bloke? The German?’
    â€˜That’s the one.’
    The Scheiner name was on building site hoardings, cranes and tip trucks all over town. There was a construction boom on and the Scheiner name was as well known as its owner was reclusive. Whelan the Wrecker might be knocking down Melbourne’s grand old brick and stone heritage buildings but it was people like Scheiner who were putting up the new glass and steel towers to replace them. He’d also made a name for himself with very generous philanthropic donations but Berlin couldn’t recall ever seeing a photograph of him on either the news or social pages.
    â€˜What do we know about him, apart from the fact he has the ear of the premier?’ Berlin did understand enough about office politics to know when a situation or case might have the potential to get awkward.
    â€˜I did a quick background check on him but there’s not a whole lot of personal information available. I’ve got some mates in the building trade so I rang around. He’s a bit of a legend.’
    â€˜Meaning?’
    â€˜One of those migrant success stories. Seems he walked off a refugee boat at Station Pier in ’52 with ten bob in his pocket, was a bricklayer’s apprentice a week later, had his own business a year or two after that. Made his first pile of dough doing all those little building jobs for the Olympics in ’56 that no one else wanted to touch, and that’s about it. But ten years on he’s got a farm out in the bush, a nice house by the beach in Brighton and he can call the bloody premier at home at two o’clock on a Sunday morning and have us all jumping through hoops.’
    â€˜If one of your daughters was missing, Bob, you’d do the same thing – pull in any favours you could. So would I.’
    â€˜You’re not wrong there, Charlie, and right now I’m here looking for a favour. They asked me to help out, just on the Scheiner girl, I mean, and now I’m asking you.’
    Stories had been circulating about Roberts lately that made Berlin wary. ‘Help out officially?’
    Another long pause before Roberts answered. ‘Touch of a grey area there Charlie, old son. Officially Tony Selden has the case but we both know what he’s like. Nice enough bloke but a bit of a plodder.’
    Berlin nodded. It was a fair description of the detective, probably a bit generous truth be told. If the Scheiner girl had time to wait Selden would find