Yesterday's Shadow Read Online Free Page B

yet?”
    â€œThey will by now. The Commissioner will have told the Premier and the Police Minister.”
    Avery looked at Malone. “You look worried, Inspector. Clouds are gathering?”
    â€œI think so. Where were you before your posting to Sydney?”
    â€œBelgrade.” Another smile, but this time a wry one. “I see your point. Okay, I'll do all I can to help you. But I hope you understand—consular men are down the totem pole compared to embassy staff.”
    â€œ I feel the same way about Police Headquarters.”
    â€œYou survive,” said Random, then looked at Avery. “We'll wait till you've talked to the embassy. Just so's we know, right from the start, where we'll be going.”
    â€œI think I better get my two senior staff in here first.” Avery spoke into the intercom on his desk: “Jane, will you ask Mr. Goodbody and Miz Caporetto to come in? Now .” He switched off and sat back. But he was not relaxed. “You're right. What was Mrs. Pavane doing in a cheap hotel under an assumed name? She didn't strike me as like that—I mean the cheap hotel.”
    â€œWhat do you know about her?” asked Malone.
    â€œNothing. Except that she was a charming, good-looking woman who always looked a million dollars, as they say. I gather she had made quite an impression down there in Canberra on the cocktail circuit. I met her twice and she looked to me as if she was going to be a great help to the Ambassador.”
    â€œAnd what's he like?”
    But then the door opened and Mr. Goodbody and Miz Caporetto came in. Avery waved a finger at the door and Goodbody turned and closed it. Avery stood up and introduced the newcomers; there was obvious rapport between the three of them. Then he said, “This is Chief Superintendent Random and Inspector Malone from the New South Wales Police Service. They have bad news. Really bad news. They have just found the Ambassador's wife in a hotel up on Central Square. Murdered.”
    Gina Caporetto sat down suddenly in a chair which, fortunately, was right behind her. Mitchell Goodbody stood stockstill, one foot in front of the other, as if caught in mid-stride. Then he said, “ Murdered ?”
    Malone had heard the echo countless times. Violent death was beyond the immediate comprehension of most people: at least the violent death of those they knew. Consular officials, like police, must have experience of tragedy, but, he guessed, it was the tragedies of strangers. And they would not have expected personal—well, semi-personal—violence here on their doorstep in a friendly city.
    â€œ How? Was she—murdered by some stranger?” Goodbody had a soft Southern accent. He was short and thin and looked as if he might be perpetually worried. He had thick fair hair, cut very short as if he had just come out of boot camp, and a long thin face that would reach middle age before the rest of him. The sort of worker who would always see that the office wheels never stopped turning. “Which hotel was it? Central Square?” He frowned, as if it was remote territory.
    â€œThe Southern Savoy,” said Random.
    â€œThe what?” Gina Caporetto was a blonde Italian-American, her birth roots north of Milan; it was an unfortunate name, a reminder of an Italian defeat in World War I; but the two Australians in the room had never heard of it. In any case men, and women, would hardly remark her name; instead they took note of her body and, eyes rising, her quite attractive face. She wore a beige knitted dress that looked as if she had put it on wet and it had shrunk. “I've never heard of it—no, wait a minute. Last year, during the Olympics, there was a big group from, I've forgotten where, New England somewhere, they were booked in there. I went up there once—” She, too, frowned. “She was— there ?”
    â€œIt's a hundred-dollar-a-night place,” said Avery.