precise. I can still remember the first time I saw him, just a little kid covered in bruises. He could hardly walk.’
‘Did he have any recent contact with his parents? Visiting arrangements?’
Novak let out a long breath, fished through a file on his desk and handed me a folded-up piece of paper. I unfolded the page and recognised it as a pathology report on a urine specimen. The patient’s name was Rachel Boyd.
‘Dallas was worried about his little sister,’ Novak explained. ‘Rachel was crying every time she went to the toilet, said it hurt to pee. So just last December, we brought her in here and had a nurse take a urine sample.’ He took the pathology report back and folded it into the file. ‘Rachel had chlamydia. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one reason why a five-year-old girl gets chlamydia.’
My stomach tensed.
‘Who was it?’
‘The stepfather. Complete scum of the earth.’ Novak clenched his jaw. ‘Being a social worker, I don’t say that about many people.’
‘Does the girl still live with them?’
He eased back in his chair, shooting me a look of suspicion. ‘Pardon my cynicism, but like I said before, I’ve been through this with other clients who’ve passed away in similar circumstances. I don’t recall there being this level of depth in the investigation.’
‘Depth?’
‘The questions you’re asking. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the interest. I’m just not used to seeing this level of inquiry from cops regarding a heroin overdose. You wanna level with me here?’
He was right to be curious. Mostly ODs were written off quickly, so it was no wonder he found my questions peculiar.
‘Call it the new face of community policing.’
‘Hey, I’ve never held out on you, man. I’ve always played ball.’
‘I know that, Will. I’m just being thorough. You said you helped Dallas find his own accommodation. Was that through the Ministry of Housing?’
‘No. Part of my role is to source government grants for my clients. The grants pay for all sorts of things like accommodation, food, travel, study, even gym membership. With Dallas, I was able to help him rent and furnish a one-bedroom unit off Barkly Street. Nothing flash, but he was learning to survive on his own.’
‘What’s the address?’
‘Of Dall’s apartment?’
‘Yeah, I’d like to have a look. Help polish off my report.’
Novak leant across his desk. ‘Hey, if something’s going on here, I have a right to know. I basically raised that kid as if he were my own.’
I felt the human element of Boyd’s death weigh heavily upon me. Workers like Novak weren’t unlike many of the dedicated detectives I’d met on the job. They worked long hours for little pay and were relentless in supporting their clients. That the clients were often the scourge of society was inconsequential to them. They saw beyond that and dedicated their lives to helping these people. And I admired that.
‘There’s some things that don’t add up, that’s all. But don’t go shooting your mouth off. I’m keeping it close to my chest until I get a better picture.’
‘You think he was murdered?’ he said.
I looked over my shoulder, as if the office had ears. I wasn’t expecting the question, and wasn’t sure I knew the answer.
‘Like I said, there are some anomalies. I can’t go into it yet, but if it turns out something untoward did happen, I’ll let you know as soon as I can. How does that sound?’
He gave me a conspiratorial nod. ‘Sure, and I’ll do what I can to help.’
‘Can you tell me the address?’ I asked.
‘I can do better than that.’ Opening a drawer in his desk, he searched around and fished out a key with a yellow tag on it. ‘As part of my agreement with the government, I go on the record for these kids when I get them a place to live,’ he explained, tossing the key over. ‘The government requires that I have a key to access the property if need be. More often than not, they’re just useful for when they lock themselves out.’
Novak read out the address and I wrote it down. On the page I saw a notation about the mobile phone and it reminded me to ask whether he could confirm if Dallas Boyd had one.
‘Sure. Everyone has a mobile these days, don’t they?’ he said.
‘You have the number?’
‘Of course.’ He got up and opened a drawer in a filing cabinet, then removed a folder. ‘Forgive my inquisitiveness,’ he said, looking genuinely puzzled, ‘but what