Forgotten (36 page)

“Maybe the meetings were their way of coping
after the war,” Reardon said.

Ethan leaned
back and sighed. “Understandable. It’s not as if they came home to
a roaring fanfare.”

Reardon
agreed. Some of the public had claimed that it wasn’t a
real war. Others blamed the soldiers for what
happened in Vietnam. Was it any wonder that these men had suffered
more post war effects than any other group of soldiers?

“Could also explain the rift between
Claudia’s parents,” Reardon added. “Cabriati met Claudia’s mother a
couple of years after Vietnam. She fell pregnant; they got
married.”

“
A shotgun
wedding.” Ethan tutted. “So Milo is born; Papa Bear is still having
difficulty showing all the right emotions and continues to fall
apart. The clan meetings probably distance Papa Bear from Mama Bear
even more. And after the unwanted Claudia is born, Mama Bear
collects Brother Milo and leaves.”

To Reardon,
it made perfect sense, even though he cringed at the whole
Bear
analogy.

“Sad story,” Ethan said.

“Sad for everyone.” Reardon shifted in his
seat. “Anyway, it’s still supposition; let’s keep going.”

Ethan
grabbed the mouse and carried on. “During that time, the Senator
lived at Araneya with his wife and three children, two daughters
and a son. His parents traveled often, mainly overseas, trusting
the place to Macey’s care. Mate, have a look at these pictures. It
looks like one of those mansions from
Gone with the Wind
. A couple
of families could live in it and not even be aware of the
other.”

Ethan flicked through image after image of
the residence, both inside and out. “The Senator’s son, Aaron
Macanetti, now runs the joint, along with his own family and
Senator Macey’s very elderly mother. The father passed away some
years back….”

“
Ethan,
stop.” Reardon closed in on the screen. With his finger, he
motioned Ethan to take it back one. “Yep… there.” He then squinted
and stared. An oldish, rather hideous portrait of a man stared
back. Reardon studied its surroundings, the off-white walls, the
dark spiraling staircase and finally the solid wooden door at the
end of a long hallway, a door with unusual
markings
.

“
Well,
bugger me,”
Reardon whispered as he fell
back. “Claudia’s dream.”

Ethan
flicked a look between Reardon and the photo. “It’s
real?”

Reardon had
always thought the place was real. But to actually witness proof,
to know that some of his theories about Claudia’s past were correct
was a different thing altogether. He allowed the short quiet to
absorb the new information. Later, he would analyze its full
implications.

“Then I assume Araneya was where she was
living?” Ethan again.

“With Alice? Almost certainly.”

“
And all
this shit about living in Sydney with her was….”

“
Exactly
that, shit.” Reardon slugged down the last of his lukewarm coffee.
He needed another, larger, stronger and definitely hotter. He stood
and collected their empty mugs on the way. Once in the kitchen, he
flicked on the kettle.

“Why would Claudia’s father cover this
up?”

“
Why
indeed.” Reardon felt a little irritation bite his skin. More lies
from her father, Claudia didn’t need.

“So, what else can we assume?”

“
That her
dream
s could be what I always thought,
memories of some type, of something that actually
happened.”

“
Saul, for
someone to repress a memory like that, well, it has to
be....”

Something bad
. Reardon had
already figured that one. He thought of the more common
possibilities, didn’t like where his head was taking
him.

He made
coffee for them both and one by one set them back on the table.
Wispy vapors c
oiled from them. Reardon
sighed and sat back down. “You know, I can’t stop thinking how
protective her father is. It’s almost borderline
obsessive.”

“Knowledge of what happened?”

“Very likely.” Reardon began lightly
massaging the area around his wound.

“
You okay?”
an observant Ethan asked.

“
What, first
my shrink, now my mother?”

“Nope, just your friend.”

Reardon
semi-smiled. “Painkiller is wearing off. Nothing that a good
night’s sleep and one of Annie’s magic pills won’t fix. So let’s
get this done.”

Ethan
returned to the computer. He blew on his coffee before taking a
small sip and then brought up what appeared to be an old newspaper
report. “Around the same time these guys were enjoying one of their
reunion bashes, a ten-year old boy, Benjamin Lucas, was shot in one
of the nearby forests.”

Reardon sat up. This was new. “Killed?”

“Yep.”

“Did they find who was responsible?”

“
Nope.
Macey’s pistol party were initial suspects but investigations
cleared them. They were witnessed hunting over three miles
away.”

“The witnesses, reliable?”

“
Very much
so, all respected citizens. Besides, the bullet removed from
Benjamin Lucas didn’t match any of the clan’s weapons. At the
inquest, the judge deemed it an accident by person or persons
unknown.”

Reardon stared at nothing; his head buzzed
with questions. “Remaining unsolved.”

“
Seven
months later, one of the clan, Ricky Taccone, was found dead in the
same forest as Benjamin Lucas and you’ve guessed it,
shot.”

“Murder, suicide, accident?”

“
By all
accounts a suicide; weapon in hand. But there are few, if any
reports on it, no investigation, nothing. Almost, as if it never
happened.”

“
Cover
up?”

“Looks like it.”

“Gun type?”

“No information. But the Benjamin Lucas case
was closed not long after. And before you ask the next question,
no, Benjamin Lucas’ file continues to state that he died by persons
unknown, not by Ricky Taccone.”

Reardon frowned. “This is bizarre.”

“
You’re
telling me. After that, the group stopped meeting, each of them
went their own way.”

“What year was that?”

“
1990.”

“Coincides with when Claudia’s father claims
he collected her from Alice.”

“
So what do
you think? Claudia saw something
, like
the kid being shot? Certainly an easier alternative to bear than
some of the options I’ve been considering.”

Reardon made
a noncommittal sound and then began slowly, meditatively drumming
his fingers on the table. “So what we have are six men. All from an
Italian background, all who returned from war and decided to meet
on a regular basis. Each possessed a preference of revolver.
Somewhere amongst all this, a relative newborn enters the scene and
is given to Alice Polinski who was what? A friend?”

“Nanny,” Ethan replied, “to Macey’s kids.
Lived in her own cottage on the estate.”

“The nanny.” Reardon’s fingers stilled.
Excitement breathed second wind into him. “So, Macey being a very
devoted chum of Cabriati, allows Alice to take in the baby until
such time as Cabriati can sort himself out and collect her.”

“Which took seven years. A long time to sort
oneself out.”

“
Certainly
was. In the meantime, Claudia is raised by Alice and probably has
free reign on the estate and in the house. However, something
happens.”

“
The bodies
in the forest?”

“
See, Ethan,
this is where it doesn’t make sense. Claudia’s dreams, they have
nothing to do with the forest, they’re to do with the house. It
must be something different.” Reardon rubbed his brow. “Too many
variables, not enough facts.”

“
All we have
right now. Your people are still on it, though. In fact, Centaur1
is a constant source of information. I swear he, or she for that
matter, needs to get a life.”

Reardon knew
the identity of Centaur1, someone who was unquestionably a genius.
“To some hackers, it is their life.” Reardon changed course. “We
need to speak to Claudia’s father again.”

“
And how are
we going to do that? Right now, Cabriati hates your guts. And when
he discovers about you and Claudia, I’d be hightailing to the
mountains.” Ethan forcibly coughed into his clenched fist. “Shit,
forgot, you already live in the bloody mountains.”

Reardon was unfazed. Cabriati’s emotionally
driven threats were the least of his problems.

“You know how we placed a man outside of
Cabriati’s house today?” Ethan went on.

After Iacovelli and Souza, Reardon had
arranged it. Cabriati had been one of the clan. It didn’t take a
genius to guess he could well be next. “And?”

“
He was
yelled at by a pretty pissed-off Papa Bear, who basically told him
to tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“
Charming,”
Saul said. “But
this is what
bothers me.”

“
I imagine
it would. Have you seen the size of that Grizzly!” Ethan
winced.

“
Not him.
His reaction. Surely, he must be a little worried about his own
safety. Wouldn’t he then want protection? Wouldn’t he want to have
this whole mess sorted, if not for his sake, at least for his
daughter’s?”

“
In a
perfectly well-balanced world, yes, but there’s nothing
well-balanced here. Don’t even believe Cabriati wants this solved.
And I reckon his problem with you is that he knows
you
could solve it.
Whatever happened twenty years ago, he was involved.”

Reardon
tried to combine Ethan’s logic with Claudia’s doting father. “I
still can’t accept he would’ve knowingly caused his daughter
harm.”

“This is the same man who dumped her for
seven years.”

Reardon
recognized that, but his instincts spoke differently.

“You know, we should be trying to get to
Macey.” Ethan again. “He’s certain to know plenty.”

Reardon was of the same opinion but not
everything was that straightforward. Even if they managed to get
past Macey’s personal security, it didn’t guarantee that Macey
would enlighten them with the truth.

“No one you know who could get to him?”

“
A federal
senator? Even I have my limitations.” Reardon shrugged once. “Well,
to a point.”

Ethan
smirked. “What, no more juicy jail-bait transcripts? You’re getting
soft, mate.”

Colt/Iacovelli and Macey’s timely phone conversation wasn’t
of Reardon’s doing. It was Centaur1 following someone else’s
request. Centaur1 assumed Reardon would be interested. Reardon was.
He smiled. The challenge of getting close to Macey was an element
he now found appealing.

“Recognize that grin too well, mate.”

Reardon shot Ethan a passing look. “Know
where Macey is right now? He’s got to be getting nervous.”

“
Oh, that he
is. Have a look at this.” Ethan waited for a particular clip to
download. “Macey and his wife were stopped by an over-zealous
reporter at Canberra Airport this afternoon. They were returning
from Christmas bon-bon popping at Araneya.”

Semi-filling
the screen was the stockily built, fast-paced Macey and his notably
anxious wife. Pursuing them was a tall, thin man, gripping onto a
black handheld microphone. “Senator, Mark Hollinger… Channel Nine
News,” he called out. “Can you spare a moment to comment on the
current Queensland shootings?”

Macey spread
his short, stubby fingers towards Hollinger and shook his head. But
Hollinger ignored it. “Do you think this extraordinary barrage of
violence will aid in your crusade for stronger laws against gun
possession?”

The Senator
stopped. His broad shoulders rose and fell as he smoothed his hand
over his cropped, grey hair. He pulled gently on the lapels of his
light grey sports jacket before finally turning to face the
reporter.

Passing
bystanders began to close in like starving vermin to a slice of
cheddar.

Macey
cleared his throat, lifted his pointed,
resolute chin high. “As strongly as I feel about gun
possession in this country,” he said in a solid, husky voice, “I
could never in good conscience utilize the recent tragedies of
others to further my cause. What has happened in Queensland is
absolutely appalling, and my condolences go out to each and every
member of those four families.”

It was well
answered, Reardon thought, particularly within a political context.
But as much as Macey attempted to appear fearless, the terror in
his dark, heavily lidded eyes clearly ambushed it. On the other
hand, there existed no such pretense from the Senator’s wife.
Standing loyally beside her husband, her petite face projected an
unnatural shade of pale; the expression of shock, weariness and
fear as equally pronounced.

“She’s scared shitless,” Ethan pointed
out.

“
She has
every right to be,” Reardon replied. “She would’ve known the
victims, would know her husband was once a part of their group.
What surprises me is that no one else has connected Macey with
Iacovelli and Souza.”

Or maybe they had. Maybe the
media/investigators were keeping it confidential for some
reason.