...and so it begins.
Pellegrinis Cafe
The body lay quietly in the street just down from Pellegrini’s and if it was not for the gradually increasing pool of blood surrounding it you might have thought that the deceased had fallen asleep or fallen over drunk or just fallen over.
The bloody great knife protruding from its chest, on the other hand, was a pretty clear indicator that someone wanted to do this person harm; the kind of harm that you woke up dead from..
The Detective Inspector had seen more than his fair share of dead bodies but not many of them ended up in plain view in a busy part of Melbourne. Vacant lots, dense bush, but not usually at the trendy end of Bourke Street.
“Bennett is staying at the Windsor, just around the corner. Do you reckon he had anything to do with this?” Sergeant Wilson’s question was directed at his DI. Detective Inspector Blank didn’t much like Sergeant Wilson but he put up with him because he was conscientious and reasonably honest.
“Wilson. You need to get over it. Bennett made you look like a fool during the Emery case. That’s a fact, but if you live long enough and don’t get caught with a pile of Fifties in your locker for which you can’t account, and if Bennett makes a particularly dumb mistake, you may, just may, get to take your revenge. But until then, you NEED TO GET THE FUCK OVER IT.”
Wilson didn’t take offence at his D.I.’s comments, partly because coppers have very thick skin and partly because he knew he was right.
Patience is something that good cops have in spades.
Wait long enough and the pendulum swings your way.
The only part of this equation that didn’t quite work was the bit about Bennett making a dumb mistake.
Sam Bennett rarely made mistakes, and when he did they could not be classified as dumb.
So Wilson was in for a long wait and he made a mental note to move the pile of money out of his locker.
Terry R Barca
The body lay quietly in the street just down from Pellegrini’s and if it was not for the gradually increasing pool of blood surrounding it you might have thought that the deceased had fallen asleep or fallen over drunk or just fallen over.
The bloody great knife protruding from its chest, on the other hand, was a pretty clear indicator that someone wanted to do this person harm; the kind of harm that you woke up dead from..
The Detective Inspector had seen more than his fair share of dead bodies but not many of them ended up in plain view in a busy part of Melbourne. Vacant lots, dense bush, but not usually at the trendy end of Bourke Street.
“Bennett is staying at the Windsor, just around the corner. Do you reckon he had anything to do with this?” Sergeant Wilson’s question was directed at his DI. Detective Inspector Blank didn’t much like Sergeant Wilson but he put up with him because he was conscientious and reasonably honest.
“Wilson. You need to get over it. Bennett made you look like a fool during the Emery case. That’s a fact, but if you live long enough and don’t get caught with a pile of Fifties in your locker for which you can’t account, and if Bennett makes a particularly dumb mistake, you may, just may, get to take your revenge. But until then, you NEED TO GET THE FUCK OVER IT.”
Wilson didn’t take offence at his D.I.’s comments, partly because coppers have very thick skin and partly because he knew he was right.
Patience is something that good cops have in spades.
Wait long enough and the pendulum swings your way.
The only part of this equation that didn’t quite work was the bit about Bennett making a dumb mistake.
Sam Bennett rarely made mistakes, and when he did they could not be classified as dumb.
So Wilson was in for a long wait and he made a mental note to move the pile of money out of his locker.
Terry R Barca
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