The Dragon's Skin. Ross Gray

for me.’

      ‘Why do you believe that?’

      ‘Ben Bovell is my friend and I believed he meant me no harm.’

      ‘Were you asked to approach the building?’

      ‘I suggested it.’

      ‘In hindsight, do you consider Senior Sergeant Collison behaved recklessly in allowing you to approach the building?’

      ‘Don was reluctant to take that step. But Ben would only talk face to face. I volunteered, and he knew I had the knowledge and experience to handle a situation like that. I would have done the same in Don’s position.’

      But you’re a notorious taker of the left-hand way, thought Buckley. Never­theless he smiled. Someone from Police Media – who would be pleased with the answer – was watching. An unarmed man who was shot after he surrendered himself and his hostage was not good press. He didn’t glance at the video camera. But his interviewee did – with a small smile, not much more than a hook of dimple in cheek. So, everyone in the room knew they were under observation. No tricks now, Ian, only a straight bat will do.

      ‘You agreed to approach the building, find out what Bovell wanted and photograph the explosive device if he let you?’ Another affirmative. ‘But you entered the building?’ Affirmative. ‘Why?’

      ‘To photograph the bomb. And it’s what Ben would have expected of me.’

      ‘To put him at ease?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Not to avoid exposing him to a sharpshooter?’

      ‘It had that advantage.’

      Buckley grunted and cast a wry glance at Nunn. ‘So, it was your decision?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Ben Bovell made a demand, but you didn’t reply to it at that time. Is that correct?’

      ‘I had agreed with the team that it would be look, listen and learn. The negotiator couldn’t get close, so they didn’t know exactly what they were dealing with.’

      ‘It’s been established that the first listening device you wore was faulty. But when it was to be replaced Don Collison intervened and ruled out wiring you. Is that how you remember it, David?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Was there some agreement between you and Senior Sergeant Collison concerning the listening device?’

      ‘There were some things – of a personal nature – that I may have had to discuss or agree to in order to persuade Ben to give himself up. Don and I felt it was neither wise nor necessary to have them on the record.’

      ‘These things related to Ben Bovell’s – ah – odd demand?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then, David, removal of the wire was a condition of your proceeding with negotiations?’

      The blue eyes lazily rose to the camera and the comma curled in the cheek again. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Don knew I’d nobble it anyway, if he insisted.’ Buckley had no doubt that he gave the watchers what he knew they wanted.

      Then his gaze slipped smoothly across to Beverley Nunn where she leaned casually – and with hip-thrusting provocation, Buckley thought – against the wall. He grinned at her with a sort of expectant invitation. Shit, thought Buckley, he’s waiting for the fat lady to sing. He knows who’s Kath and who’s Kim in this duo. If he wanted to draw her out he succeeded.

      ‘That’s where we have a problem, Mr Edge,’ Nunn said, pushing herself from the wall with her shoulder. ‘We only have your word about Bovell’s terms. And it was an exceedingly strange demand.’ She folded her arms beneath her breasts and paced in a tight circle rocking from heel to toe. ‘You’re asking us to believe that he hatched and carried out this elaborate plan to extract from you a promise? No action or proof, no guarantees, no unbreakable contract, no immunity from prosecution? What was he going to do, call the ACCC if you reneged on the deal?’ Her voice dropped an octave or two. ‘What do you want, Ben? I want you to delete someone from the electoral roll, Dave. For you, Ben, anything. You’re a good mate, Dave, can I go to gaol now?’ She spun on her heel and stood, hip cocked, eyes ablaze. Buckley lived for these moments. It was all the sex he got these days. ‘In fact, Mr Edge, held up to the light of logic, the whole scenario has the bone structure of a jellyfish.’ At this point, thought Buckley, he should demand what reason had he to lie.

      ‘True,’ Edge agreed reasonably.

      Beverley Nunn was caught a little wrong-footed by the candour. She was approaching the table, but she stopped, feet as far apart as possible in her tight skirt, hands went to her hips. She gazed up under her brow and pursed her lips. Christ, she looked hot like that, thought Buckley.

      ‘I take it you have an explanation to offer?’ She was inviting Edge to dig a hole for himself and they all knew it. If he reached for his lawyer it would indicate something. Just what – Buckley wasn’t sure.

      Edge said, ‘There wasn’t much rational logic in his actions. But then, he wasn’t acting rationally.’

      ‘That tautology doesn’t get us very far, does it, Mr Edge? Are you suggest­ing there’s another kind of logic we can employ?’

      Buckley had his floorshow; he interposed: ‘Mr Bovell may be willing to shed light on his behaviour when he is able, but we have some points of fact to clear up here.’ Nunn retreated. Buckley addressed Edge. ‘You said,’ he referred to his notes, ‘something like, “Ben’s really focused today. He knows how this day is going to end.” You said this to Collison. Do you recall these words?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘What did you mean by them at the time?’

      ‘I thought Ben was resolved to get what he wanted, or die trying.’

      ‘In hindsight, knowing the bomb was a fake, what do you think?’

      ‘I think I was wrong. He was resolved to die when he got what he wanted.’

      Buckley sat back. He looked at Nunn, and couldn’t resist a glance toward the camera. ‘You’re implying a subtle and sophisticated plan, David.’

      ‘I underestimated Ben. And I second-guessed myself.’

      ‘Would you care to elucidate?’ said Nunn.

      ‘I’ve seen the faces of people who’ve made final and fatal decisions. Ben had the look. Exhilarated but at peace, wise, sad, but a little smug. But, I couldn’t believe he’d hurt Briette. That’s what made me doubt the bomb. I didn’t think he’d risk an accident with Brie around. On the other hand, I was sure he didn’t have a gun, how was he going to top himself? I assumed – if my gut was right – he planned to let Brie go with me, wait until we were clear and then blow himself up. Of course, in those situations, provoking police fire is always a possibility. That’s why I insisted we leave together. When he didn’t make a fuss I thought I’d let my imagination get the better of me.’

      ‘So,’ said Nunn. ‘He walks, he suddenly snaps, grabs the doll, runs to get clear of the girl, waving the doll like a gun, and bang, bang?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘No?’

      ‘He brought a black plastic unclothed doll with him. Perhaps to keep his daughter happy and distracted during the ordeal. Maybe guilty conscience. Perhaps it was an object with limitless versatility. But I tucked it into the bib of her overalls. Ben buttoned her coat up to the neck. He pulled the doll from his own pocket – not from Brie’s jacket. He must have known that in the heat of the moment no one would pick it for anything but a gun.’

      ‘You’re suggesting he brought the fire down on himself? It was his intention before he left