Free Deep Water by Peter Corris Page A

media came to hear of it and we kept it that way.’
    I said, ‘You’re sure it was McKinley?’
    â€˜Everything the pathologist documented about the body fitted the description the daughter gave us and the more detailed one that Mr Bachelor provided.’
    Hank said, ‘I didn’t tell you, Cliff. Our client said that her father had broken his right arm and his left shoulder in different falls from his bike.’
    â€˜That checked out,’ Gunnarson said. ‘We found that McKinley was a blood donor. His DNA’s on record and that’s being matched, but I don’t think there’s any doubt.’
    Hank took a notebook from his pocket. ‘When was the body found?’
    Gunnarson looked at his watch. ‘Close to seventy-two hours ago.’
    â€˜And how long since he was killed?’
    â€˜Not long. That rainstorm we had last Friday probably contributed to dousing the fire.’
    I felt the weight of that. McKinley was alive when our investigation began. Another thing that’d be hard to convey to Margaret, but that wasn’t my only problem.
    â€˜I have to ask,’ I said, ‘why are you giving us all this protected information? And, with respect, why is DS Roberts here?’
    Dickersen tapped the file in front of him. ‘Mr Bachelor and you have the inside track on this matter. As an apparent case of murder this is particularly serious in its … execution. We’ve decided that we have an advantage in keeping it under wraps. We assume the perpetrators expect us to find the body and for the media to go to town on it. When that doesn’t happen they may become anxious.’
    Hank said, ‘You’re going to keep an eye on the spot in case someone comes to check?’
    â€˜That, too, but we want your cooperation in giving us every scrap of information you have and maintaining the security blanket.’
    Hank glanced at me. ‘I’d say we could guarantee that, Chief Super, but, again with respect, as you say, how good is
your
security?’
    â€˜Very good,’ Dickersen said.
    Hank nodded. ‘But not absolute.’
    Dickersen shrugged. ‘What is?’
    This was new territory for Hank and me—total cooperation with the police. The same question occurred to us both—was this sharing of information mutual? Hank asked for a few minutes for us to confer and we went into a huddle at the far end of the table while the police did the same at their end. We mapped out a strategy.
    When we reassembled, I said, ‘You spoke of us informing our client of her father’s death. That’d be a breach of this security, wouldn’t it?’
    â€˜We’d ask you to withhold the information for a time while the investigation proceeds.’
    â€˜That’d be deception on our part and would cost her money,’ Hank said.
    â€˜Some measure of compensation might be possible.’
    â€˜That’s very vague,’ I said. ‘Tell you what, we do have some additional information that could be relevant, and we’ll share it with you.’
    â€˜Good,’ Dickersen said.
    â€˜On the condition that a question we have is answered. That is, that DS Roberts tells us where she fits in and we decide we’re happy with her explanation.’
    At a nod from Dickersen, she took a notebook from her pocket and cleared her throat. I gave her an encouragingsmile, which she ignored. ‘At Inspector Gunnarson’s direction, I interviewed the assistant to the CEO at Tarelton Explorations—a Ms Barbara Guy. The CEO, Edward Tarelton, AO, is out of the country on business, allegedly. Ms Guy gave me copies of a whole bunch of documents relating to Henry McKinley’s employment, but refused to tell me anything about his area of research or what field investigations he might have done.
    â€˜I asked if Dr McKinley had had a secretary or an assistant I could interview and she said he hadn’t. I asked who