I spent the next hour in Ella's cubicle reading the file cover to cover. Between the three boys I counted over ninety separate reports from police, Juvenile Justice, Child Protection, hospitals, drug and alcohol workers and psychologists. Each was a depress-ingly dismal story of neglect, rebellion and child abuse. Parents like Dallas Boyd's were the norm and I again wondered why it took so long before the system intervened. Why did a child's life have to be in immediate physical danger before somebody stepped in?

As I packed the file into my briefcase, I noticed the mug shot and intel report on Sparks had slipped out of the side pocket. Still clipped to the back of the report was the call charge record on Dallas Boyd's mobile phone that I'd yet to examine. The CCR provided a basic list of phone numbers for all the calls made to and from Boyd's mobile in the hours either side of his murder. There were nine in total, the last being at 12.17 a.m., not long after he was dead. I cast my eyes over the list of numbers and noted that six of the calls were from the same number, five before midnight and the final one after the murder. Flipping back to the intel report, I confirmed that the number belonged to Sparks, which tallied with his report of trying to contact Boyd several times after he'd failed to show up at the rendezvous.

The remaining three calls were from another number, the most recent at 11.25 p.m. By this stage, Boyd would've left Tammy and Fletch at McDonald's and headed off to meet Sparks to exchange the laptop. Just then it occurred to me that the timeline didn't quite gel. McDonald's was less than a hundred metres from Luna Park where Boyd and Sparks were to meet at midnight midnight. So why did Boyd leave Tammy and Fletch so early, given it would've only taken him a few minutes to walk to Luna Park?

Maybe he planned to meet somebody en route, possibly a rock spider, perhaps make a quick sale. Or maybe he had another partner involved in the scam, somebody he needed to see before he met Sparks. Whatever the reason, there was one thing I was sure of: not long after receiving that last phone call he was murdered. Remembering Dr Wong's belief that Boyd had shared a beer with his killer in the hour prior to his death, it seemed plausible that whoever this number belonged to had at least some involvement in the murder.

I stared at the number, reciting the combination in my mind, and suddenly a jolt of recognition sparked in me.

'Son of a b.i.t.c.h,' I said, fumbling with my wallet.

I found the business card I was looking for and my heart started pounding. The numbers matched.

34.

ELLA STIRRED A LITTLE when I kissed her goodbye, but the nurse had a.s.sured me she wouldn't wake properly for another few hours. Much as I wanted to be there when she did, I couldn't ignore what was now in my possession. The system had failed Dallas Boyd, and so had we the police. I couldn't allow that to happen again. when I kissed her goodbye, but the nurse had a.s.sured me she wouldn't wake properly for another few hours. Much as I wanted to be there when she did, I couldn't ignore what was now in my possession. The system had failed Dallas Boyd, and so had we the police. I couldn't allow that to happen again.

I took a taxi home. Once inside, I opened my briefcase again, took out my daybook and located the DVD I'd copied from the 7-Eleven security camera. I put the disk in the player, sat back on the couch and opened my daybook, reviewing my case notes. According to my timeline, Dallas Boyd had been in the 7-Eleven with Tammy York at about 10 p.m. That I could confirm. From there they had hung around McDonald's for around an hour, before Boyd had left to meet Sparks and en route had met up with his killer, whom I now suspected had called him and arranged to meet.

My thoughts kept circling back to Dallas Boyd's mobile phone, a phone that had yet to surface, most likely because the killer had removed it from him. But why? The only logical explanation was that the killer had been worried about the calls made to and from Boyd's phone raising the suspicion of the investigators. Were it not for Boyd purchasing the recharge card and having the receipt in his wallet at the time of death, I probably never would've regarded the missing phone as a potential lead. This led me to believe the killer didn't know about the receipt or else they would have removed that also, which in effect ruled out Tammy York and Fletch as suspects, since they were with Dallas when he bought the recharge card.

I flipped through my daybook until I found the notes I'd made while questioning Tammy. She couldn't remember the exact type of phone Boyd had, but she'd described the ringtone as annoying. I ran my finger down the page and located the notation Hi Ho Silver ringtone Hi Ho Silver ringtone.

I turned on the DVD player and let the security footage play. When I'd watched the disk in the store, the sound on the computer had been muted. At the time sound hadn't seemed necessary, but something about what I'd seen on the tape didn't add up. If what I was now thinking was true, I'd made possibly the biggest oversight in my career as a detective, one I wasn't sure I'd recover from.

I turned up the volume and immediately the traffic on Fitzroy Street and the echoing sound of the convenience store filled my lounge room. I skipped past Dallas Boyd and Tammy York entering the store, knowing what I wanted was further on. I watched the clock on screen tick quickly over and let it play until just after midnight, when Will Novak entered the store to purchase the cigarettes he'd told me about.

I leant forward on the couch as Novak walked through the doors and approached the counter. Just as the clock on the screen read 12.17 a.m., the exact time Sparks had called Dallas Boyd to ask where he was, a phone started ringing. Novak took a mobile out of his shirt pocket, pressed a b.u.t.ton and the ringing stopped.

'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' I said.

My hands trembled as I burnt a copy of the DVD, retrieved the Colt .45 from under my bed, then gathered up the doc.u.ments I needed and headed down to the car park. By the time I arrived at the Carlisle Accommodation & Recovery Service, it was just on 9 a.m. and my eyes were stinging with fatigue as the painkillers the nurses had given me wore off.

I parked across the road and hobbled towards the hostel's porch, noticing the blue glow of a computer screen through the last window on the left. Will Novak's office. The front door creaked as I entered the foyer. A young girl sat behind the reception desk.

'Will in?' I asked.

'Yeah, sure,' said the girl, picking up the phone. 'Your name, please?'

Holding open my badge case, I said there was no need to call him. Before she could protest, I made my way down the hall. Novak's door was half-open, as if to invite entry, but I still knocked.

He swivelled on his chair. 'Jesus,' he said, eyes widening at the sight of me. Then, nodding to his computer, he added, 'I've just been reading the news reports online. You okay? How's Ella?'

'She's still under, but she'll be fine.'

'Thank G.o.d.'

The headline COP TANGLED IN SPIDER WEB COP TANGLED IN SPIDER WEB spread across the top of the screen, an article underneath. spread across the top of the screen, an article underneath.

'Didn't realise it was in the news so soon.'

'That's the internet for you,' said Novak, gesturing to a chair by his desk. 'Come in, please. Sit down.'

I eased into the chair.

'You want a coffee?' he asked.

'No, I just wanted to stop by and let you know how it all panned out, like I said I would. That was the deal.'

'Yes, of course. Thank you.'

I read from my daybook even though I knew it all ad lib.

'As you've probably read in the press, a man named Gervas Kirzek was shot and killed early this morning by one of our members. Off the record, we believe Kirzek was responsible for at least two of the recent murders.'

'Two?'

'We think he killed Justin Quinn in the Talbot Reserve and Stuart Parks outside the squat behind Acland Street. As to why he killed them, my view is that he learnt they were all involved in a scam to blackmail him.'

'Blackmail?'

I gave him a quick rundown on how Dallas had hired Sparks to burgle the house and steal the laptop.

'I think he also hired Justin Quinn to star in a p.o.r.n movie so they could use it as leverage,' I said. 'That's why Justin had to go. Same with Tammy York, only she got lucky and Fletch came to her rescue just as Kirzek was about to kill her.'

Novak nodded thoughtfully. 'So Kirzek was the guy who attacked her, the rich p.r.i.c.k she told us about?'

'Looks that way.'

'But hang on,' Novak said, 'Tammy said Dallas wasn't into making p.o.r.n, just selling it.'

'She said he didn't do kiddie p.o.r.n. What he did do was ... I don't know, in the middle somewhere, I suppose.'

Novak looked confused.

'Anyway, as for Sparks, well, somehow Kirzek must've known he was either helping me with the case or in on the scam,' I said. 'I didn't recognise him at the time, but I saw Kirzek outside the squat before the killing, dressed like a trannie. He was staking it out, waiting for Sparks.'

'So anyone connected with the scam had to go?' Novak said.

'Basically, yes.'

'Including Dallas Boyd?'

I flipped to the back of my daybook, removed one of the doc.u.ments I'd pulled from the DHS file Sarah Harrigan had given me and slid it across the desk.

'Actually, I don't think Kirzek killed him,' I said. 'This is a post-release report on Dallas Boyd, dated the year before last, just after he was released from Malmsbury. The clinician's name is at the bottom you recognise it?'

Novak frowned. 'Where did you get this?'

'Doesn't matter where I got it. Do you recognise the name of the clinician who wrote the report?'

'Yes. Josh Graham. He used to work here. Left about six months ago.'

'Now works for the Back Outside program, correct?'

'Ah, I don't ... what are you getting at? We have a lot of links with Back Outside. We receive at least half of our clients through that program.'

'I know. Can you read the text I've highlighted?'

... while the client's substance abuse issues appear to have stabilised, his current involvement in the s.e.x industry, particularly in and around the St Kilda environs, gives rise for concern. This is especially concerning given the link between s.e.x work, physical abuse and substance misuse ...

Novak folded the page in half, looked up.

'You told me you had no idea he was in the s.e.x game,' I said.

'That's right, I didn't.'

'But this report says otherwise.'

'I didn't write that report. Josh Graham did.'

'Come on, Will. You're the boss here. Don't tell me these reports don't cross your desk.'

Novak opened the page again and stared at the text, as if it were a cue card prompting an answer.

'I see hundreds of these reports every month. I have to skim through the details.'

'Dallas Boyd was a star client here, a success story,' I countered. 'You said yourself, it's not every day you get kids like him come along. Surely you would've noticed a report raising concerns about your star client working the s.e.x game.'

'What are you implying? I'm not sure I like the tone of these questions.'

'You lied to me, Will. In my experience there are only two reasons why people lie to police. They're either scared or they're involved.'

'I completely resent that. I've been nothing but open and frank with you. Any other worker would have made you jump through a whole bunch of legal hoops before they even agreed to open the door. But not me, I gave you full cooperation. Jesus, I even gave you keys to Dallas Boyd's apartment. Did you actually have a warrant before you looked through it?'

I didn't answer.

'I got you addresses. I even went with you to visit '

Novak was cut off by the phone ringing on his desk. At first he ignored it then s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, turning away to face the window and speaking in a low voice. Outside, Tammy York and Fletch walked through the gate and approached the front porch, stopping halfway up the path to speak to another client. I wondered what they were doing here and got my answer when Fletch shook hands and exchanged something with the other client.

Novak put down the phone, swivelled back around on his chair. 'That was our sister agency in Footscray,' he said. 'We've got a kid holed up in his room threatening to slash up, off his face on meth. A Critical a.s.sessment Team's on the way. Who knows if they'll get there in time.'

I waited.

'Meanwhile, three kids from our detox unit over there have decided to go AWOL and two clinicians have called in sick,' he continued. 'As you can see, it's a typical Monday morning and I've got all the time in the world.'

'Want to hear the rest or not?'

'Sure. I like being accused of impropriety, especially by someone I've bent over backwards for.'

From my daybook I produced a list I'd pulled from within the files Sarah Harrigan had given me. It comprised almost fifty names, one of which I'd highlighted.

'Justin Quinn,' I said, putting the page on the desk in front of him. 'You said you didn't know him.'

'I don't.'

'Then why is his name on this list?'

Novak s.n.a.t.c.hed up the page and read over it.

'That's your current client list,' I explained. 'Says right there that Justin Quinn had his first a.s.sessment last week, referred to CARS by Back Outside. So why did you tell me you didn't know him?'

'This is a total breach of privacy,' Novak blurted. 'These kids deserve more respect. Did Sarah Harrigan give you this?'

'Like I said, it doesn't matter who gave it to me. Just answer my question about '

I stopped talking as the receptionist appeared in the doorway, a worried look across her face.

'Is everything okay in here?' she asked.

'Everything's fine,' Novak said. 'The officer was just leaving.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' I said firmly.

The girl stood awkwardly in the doorway before finally getting the hint and scurrying back to her desk in the foyer.

'You still haven't answered my question about Justin Quinn,' I said when she was gone. 'When we drove past the murder scene, you said you didn't know him. By itself that little fib means nothing, except that Justin happened to be the second client of yours who was murdered in a week, something you obviously didn't think was worth sharing with me.'

'Justin was only recently referred to us,' Novak said in a cool voice, rocking back in his chair. 'So at the time of his death I didn't realise he was a client of ours. It wasn't a lie.'

I realised then Novak wasn't going to crack that easily. I would have to take him all the way to the edge. I removed the 7-Eleven DVD from my briefcase and handed it across the desk.