Trust by Chris Hammer

Author:Chris Hammer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2020-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

chapter twenty-four

Titus Torbett gives Martin a lift back to the city in the BMW. It seems the limousine belongs to him, not his father.

‘This is very good of you,’ offers Martin as the car glides away from the house.

‘No problem. I have a hearing at the courts.’

‘You’re a lawyer as well?’

Titus’s eyes are on the road, but Martin thinks he detects a smile as he answers. ‘All Torbetts are lawyers.’

‘A barrister?’

‘Of course. I’m a corporate counsel.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I work for a select group of corporations.’

‘Sounds interesting. Which ones?’

‘Sorry. That’s confidential.’

‘Of course.’

Martin watches the greenery of Moore Park slide by before attempting to restart the conversation. ‘Were you close? To Elizabeth?’

‘Of course. She was my little sister.’ Titus is concentrating on the traffic; his face betrays no emotion. ‘I’m told you found them.’

‘Not exactly. But I witnessed the crime scene.’

There’s a red light, giving Titus Torbett the opportunity to turn his eyes from the road to Martin. ‘Do you think she suffered?’

Martin shakes his head. ‘No. She wouldn’t have felt a thing.’ Which is true, he thinks. Not when the bullet entered her brain and blew out the back of her skull. But in the minutes before, she must have been terrified. But why tell her brother that? ‘Your father told me you were once a member of the Mess,’ Martin states.

‘A long time ago. I quit after a couple of years.’ The man’s face is neutral, eyes back on the road.

‘Why?’

‘Never really interested me. Father signed me up, but I found it tedious. A bunch of self-promoters, sitting around drinking fine wines and eating roadkill. Not my scene.’

‘Roadkill?’

‘Their dinners. They eat rare and endangered species, if you can believe that. Makes them feel special. Elite.’ The lights change and he moves off with the traffic, face still impassive. ‘Perverse, if you ask me.’

‘Shark fin soup made from white pointers, that sort of thing?’

‘Exactly. Bloody disgusting.’

‘You don’t approve?’

‘I don’t. Father had the good sense to distance himself when he went to the High Court. Elizabeth should have done the same when she went to the bench.’

‘You think that’s what got her killed? Being a member of the Mess?’

Titus laughs, amused at the idea. ‘I doubt it.’ He seems about to add something, hesitates, then refrains from saying anything more.

‘Your father said you might be able to help me. Thought you might know some of the members.’

‘Me? I resigned thirty years ago. More than thirty years.’

‘You never discussed it?’

‘No.’

‘Your father thought Clarence O’Toole might still be a member.’

Titus shrugs. ‘More than likely. He’d be right at home there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Likes the sound of his own voice.’

‘I see. Anyone else you can think of?’

Titus grunts. ‘Just one—your pal at the Herald: D’Arcy Defoe.’

‘D’Arcy? Are you sure?’ Martin reaches up, takes hold of the Jesus handle, even as the BMW continues on its smooth trajectory along Oxford Street.

‘That’s what Elizabeth said.’

‘When was this?’

‘A couple of years ago. She was on her high horse. Thought it was outrageous having a journalist as a member.

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