The Dark Side by Roger Rogerson

The Dark Side by Roger Rogerson

Author:Roger Rogerson [Rogerson, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Biography, True Crime
ISBN: 9781925281194
Publisher: Kerr Publishing
Published: 2015-10-13T16:00:00+00:00


10

Job at the G & G Food Store

BLAKEHURST, south of Hurstville, was — and still is — a quiet suburb. There used to be a G & G Food Store, a small supermarket, one of a chain of such stores, among a few shops off the Princes Highway, not far from Tom Ugly’s Bridge. The Carss Park group of shops on the eastern shore of the peninsula — newsagency, a couple of servos and three or four others — was like a small village, a beautiful part of Sydney, where the Georges River widens right out as it flows to Botany Bay. Beautiful homes adorn the natural gifts of the area. The owners of the houses also owned the motor boats and yachts moored there.

About 6 one Saturday morning in the late 196os I received a telephone call at home. Detective Sergeant Noel Morey said we had been called out ‘to attend’ at Carss Park. Our boss wanted us to get there as soon as possible, to ‘sort it out’.

Noel and I lived fairly close and at that time of the morning it didn’t us take long to get there. Another pair of detectives from the CIB, Detective Sergeant Harry Tupman, for many years a homicide investigator and later the officer in charge of Homicide, and Detective Pringle were also despatched there. Nice drive, but it was clearly time to go to work.

I went into the G & G store. Forty years have passed, but I must admit it still ranks as one of the worst scenes I ever saw.

A milko had arrived to make his delivery to the store about 4 a.m. He backed his milk truck down a lane at the back of G & G supermarket, jumped out, and was not surprised to find the roller shutter up about a metre and light shining from the interior. The manager, Mr Charles Carmine De Santis, sometimes arrived early in the morning to do what he normally did at night. Unloading dairy products from his truck and placing them in the doorway under the roller door, the milko half expected De Santis to pull up the roller shutter, and take delivery as he often did, but when the manager didn’t emerge the milko just assumed he was at the front of the shop, loading the shelves. He completed delivering everything and banged on the shutter in case De Santis hadn’t heard him. Banging on a roller shutter raises a racket loud enough to wake anybody but the dead. No show. So he jumped up to floor level, ducked under and walked in.

Bet he wished he hadn’t.

De Santis was in the office, slumped down in the far corner under the sink, head and face covered in blood. Blood was spattered all over the nearby walls and table. He was not moving. The milkman realised Mr De Santis was very much dead. The blood-stained hammer among the bloody receipts and invoices spread all over the place looked like it might have a good deal to do with that.



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