Unlocked Secrets: Book 1

By Desley Polmear

A debut work of fi ction created by a gifted writer, UNLOCKED SECRETS reveals a dark and
provocative story of one mans ambiguous path which is locked within a double-edged sword
of confl ict between his religious ideals and his material greed. Written by Desley Polmear, this
compelling page-turner takes readers on a capricious journey as they uncover the truths behind
a gruesome crime. Embellished with captivating and thrilling twists and turns, this remarkable
detective mystery will etch an indelible mark within the subconscious.
Readers will meet the volatile and unconventional life of Claude Russo, a good, compassionate
and kind-hearted man overpowered by his greed for money. Claudes love for gambling sends his
life to a chaotic downward spiral. His fi nancial recklessness sends him to fi nd desperate measures
to get a hold of quick cash. Through his encounters with some dark and shady characters, he gets
caught up in a shocking and intricate web of lies, betrayal and deception which will send tingles
to the readers spine.
A thought-provoking and exhilarating fusion of intriguing mystery, whirlwind romance, religious
inner battles and thrilling suspense, UNLOCKED SECRETS is a superbly-crafted plot that will grab
the attention of many book enthusiasts worldwide. Readers will be taken to a helter-skelter literary
experience that ignites a sense of awareness about how in the dangerous and mysterious world
ruled by greed, there is no escaping punishment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: May 19, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469162348

Desley Polmear

Desley Polmear now resides in a coastal village in the mid north coast of NSW. Desley is a high-energy person whose interests have covered the arts, music, theatre, writing and travel. ‘Just before midnight’ is a sequel to her first book, "Unlocked Secrets" which Desley published in 2012 during those “idle” moments between these interests. This zest for living has gained her many close and much-loved friends around the world and her empathy for people has helped many in their difficult moments. Michael Davies - Author

Book preview

Chapter 1

29 April 1992

Before Claude could get to sleep, the phone rang. ‘Change of plans,’ the voice said. ‘Go to plan B. Just be there—2 a.m. sharp. Continue down the dirt track another kilometre past the usual spot… the fork in the road. You’ll see the van and make sure you’re on time. Oh, and by the way, the 4WD is being serviced, so you’ll have to take your own car this time.’ Then there was a click on the phone before he got to say a word. He looked at his watch, and it was just after midnight. He sat on the edge of the bed and put on his casual clothes and his smelly sneakers. His mind went to his mistress. All he could think about now was whether she was settled comfortably into the motel. As long as she was on that plane in the morning, he knew she was safe. He poked his head into his son Nick’s bedroom, but the black Labrador was fast asleep at the end of his bed. He’d leave him in comfort tonight.

When he arrived at the sheds, the two workers were waiting to load the bags into his car. ‘Going to be a bit of a squeeze,’ muttered the old guy. He was close to six feet tall with a heavy build, and was wearing a dark tracksuit and a striped beanie on his head. The younger guy never uttered a word, just did the job he had to do.

When the job was finished, he drove cautiously down Industrial Lane and headed towards the highway. He drove north of the city. It had been raining steadily all afternoon. At this time of night, the traffic was minimal, but it was a good fifty minutes before he took the turn off. He’d been to this area before and knew his way, but this time he had to continue a little further, into unknown territory. The rain was heavy, and it was difficult to see beyond a few feet in front of him in the black night. He was getting a bit tired of all this. He was nearing fifty now, and he wanted out, but in this game there’s no easy way. Once you’re in, you’re in for life; he knew that for sure. He was taking his boys to Italy for his big fiftieth. He would get to see the little village where his mama and papa were born. No persuading would change Val’s mind. She was not interested in the trip at all. He had a good business with his cousin Enrico, and he has been running his side of things now for four years. Enrico and Claude were babies together, and there was not much they didn’t know about each other. They were good friends, more like brothers. He thought about his life right now. A lot had changed, especially his looks and body size. Different lifestyle now! When he was in his prior job, he was more on the go and visited the gym often, but nowadays sitting behind a desk didn’t keep him trim. As he’d aged, the features remained, but his hair was thinning, and he was broadening around his waistline. Deep wrinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes and a deep furrow between. He thought about his younger days when he was so agile and fit—dressed to kill, and he liked what he saw in the mirror in those days but can’t say the same for today. He smiled to himself as he pictured the younger version. Those were the days. He had the pick of the girls then. Same today, except the price is high.

He wasn’t complaining though, for this night job brought the money in and had given him and his family a very comfortable life over the last three years. It certainly got him out of a lot of financial difficulties. He thought himself a very lucky man, and although delivering the contents was not his game, it sure gave him a good lifestyle. He began to think of his mistress again, her last words, her last kiss. He felt the bulge in his jeans and adjusted himself for comfort. He hoped she would cope with the big trip ahead of her. All she had to do was focus on her freedom and her new life. He wondered when he would get to see her… maybe within the next few months. One thing he’d be looking forward to would be her first postcard from overseas. He didn’t want to receive any emails, as he figured that would be just far too dangerous.

Just before 2 a.m. he entered Cliff Road, and it was still raining quite heavy. The road was narrow, and it was windy, with large tree roots meandering across the dirt track. It was slippery in the wet mud, and he took it very slow. He passed the fork in the road and shortly after, he saw the lights of the van. He steered his car close to the side opening.

*     *     *

The motorhome that was parked in the bushes was well hidden from the road. Kenneth found this spot some months ago. He had never known any traffic to be on this dirt track before. He carefully edged his way off the bed, making sure not to disturb Tammy as he wanted to peer out the small window. This was the second vehicle he had heard tonight. He saw the white car drive past and park next to the van he’d seen enter only ten minutes earlier. The lights were bright from the two vehicles. It was still raining heavily. He watched as two figures moved from one vehicle to the other. Although visibility was slight, he could see they were carrying something to and fro. He crawled back into the bed as his lover stirred . . .

‘What’s up?’ she murmured.

He told her what he’d seen. ‘We keep low. Let them do what they do, and we’ll keep out of it.’

She sat up looking concerned, but he pushed her gently back on to the pillow and stroked her hair.

‘Don’t worry! They can’t see a thing. We’re well hidden here, so just relax.’

They lay in each other’s arms, and within minutes, he could hear her slow even breathing. Kenneth met Tammy when she was available. The affair had been going on for two months now. It was only possible when Tammy’s husband was out of town on business. Kenneth’s wife was used to him getting in his motorhome and seeing the countryside. She had no interest whatsoever. As long as they mind their own business tonight and keep quiet, they would be safe, he thought.

*     *     *

The man, who had phoned him earlier, stepped out of the van and opened his umbrella to shield himself from the rain and walked quickly towards him.

‘We’ve got to move quickly,’ he yelled to him above the noise of the heavy rain.

‘I’m ready,’ Claude replied. ‘The sooner we get started, the sooner we get out of this rain.’

The two men lifted the bags and backpacks into the van, running back and forth like madmen. Lifting all these bags at this pace didn’t go too well for him, especially in the rain when the mud underneath was slippery. The load wasn’t heavy; it was awkward, and maybe his wife’s forever nagging would urge him to do something about his physique. One day maybe!

He was only here to deliver. The rest was someone else’s problem, and the money was handed over at the next point of call. Been done like that for years, he’d been told. All of a sudden he stopped in his tracks as he noticed a tall, heavily built guy loitering near the front of the van. He wouldn’t have noticed him in the dark, except that he saw the light from the cigarette as the man drew on it. The figure was leaning against the bonnet, struggling with an umbrella to shield himself from the heavy rain.

‘Who’s the guy?’ Claude asked, inquisitively.

‘Just showing him the ropes. That’s all. He’s OK.’

It made Claude feel uneasy. He wondered why he hadn’t been told beforehand. In this game it wasn’t the way it was done. His thoughts went suddenly to his family… his Val and the boys. Something wasn’t right, he had a gut feeling. Now that he slept in the other bedroom, she never knew of his all night treks. He’d answer his private mobile at all hours and follow the orders. She’d never know, but then again, after a few wines, she hardly knew her way to the bedroom.

‘OK, till next time,’ his friend yelled to him.

They walked in opposite directions, still attempting to shield themselves from the rain. Lightning was now striking, and they had both remarked earlier about being anxious to get home before the storm got worse.

He felt the blow as his hand reached for the door handle. His body was falling… falling. He made an attempt to see who had struck him, but as he went to turn around, everything went black.

My body is travelling fast, flying like the wind. I am helping my papa in the backyard. He is showing me how to fix the lawnmower. Noreen, I don’t want to see your knickers . . . I’m going to play. Johnny is in prison. I’m glad I’m not his friend any more; he looks unhappy and angry. Enrico is mad with me, and he is yelling at me. I don’t like him yelling, we’re cousins and best friends. We are playing soccer; we won the premiership, and everyone is happy. I see all the people gathered around me. I raised a lot of money for my charity today. Papa died, and I was crying with Mama and Dino. There he is . . . I can see Papa now. He’s surrounded by light. He’s taking hold of my hand and is urging me to go with him. I struggle; I don’t want to go. I have my boys and Val. I hear a voice . . . it sounds like an echo. ‘Go back. Go back. I have lots more for you to experience.’ Papa calls out to me as my body begins to spiral. ‘Be a better person, Son. Get away from him; he is no good . . . and watch your back.’ I’m making love to my mistress. Why is Val watching us? I was leaving the light—a force took over, I had no control. I’m coming into the darkness. My body is rolling and rolling, and all I see is black, like a dark starless night. All of a sudden, I feel pain, my head hurts, and I’m surrounded by darkness. I see a figure, and he is holding a gun to my head. I can feel the metal; it is cold. I am fearful now. I feel helpless, and my body is shaking.

‘Empty his pockets and grab his mobile,’ the tall blond ordered.

He found the mobile and pushed it into his shirt pocket, and then checked the rest. He found slips of paper, a lighter, a pen, a handkerchief, and a pouch of tobacco. Then he heard a groan. ‘Quick, do your stuff—and make sure you finish him off,’ he yelled.

The blond tried to shift the heavy body from the mud, but it was slippery and not going anywhere.

‘What the f – – – are you doing?’ Claude yelled as he tried to focus. ‘Are you f – – – – – – crazy?’ he screamed into the face before him. He started to yell obscenities to both of them. When he tried to move, he couldn’t lift his head off the ground. His body was heavy and ached, and he had no strength at all. His heart was racing, and his mind was working overtime.

‘You’re getting everything you deserve… you’re lower than life itself.’

Claude squirmed and kicked and looked into the face before him, as his body was sliding uncontrollably in the mud. ‘Please, please don’t. Our friendship… we can work this all out. Please… I can fix it all,’ he pleaded into the man’s eyes. He tried to move to get up again, but he felt the boot dig into his ribs.

‘You messed up, and you know it. Take your last breath, you scumbag,’ he yelled back. ‘I believe when we die, we all have to answer for the wrong we’ve done to other people in this life,’ he added in a slow sarcastic drawl. ‘You remember the group, The Angels, back in the seventies?’ He paused before he opened his mouth and sang. ‘Am I ever gonna see your face again?’ The laugh was loud and hideous. He took one last look at the heap of shit on the ground and kicked him in the groin. ‘You won’t be using that any more, and I certainly won’t be seeing your face again.’

Claude yelled out in pain, his body doubling up. His screams were loud. The rain was easing off a little now. He tried once again to move forward, but his strength had left him.

‘Do your job, and do it good the first time.’

Claude’s eyes followed the figure. He watched him walk towards the van, abandoning him as if he were a piece of junk on the side of the road. Their long-time friendship meant nothing to him.

‘Please… please,’ he called to him almost in a whisper. He had no power left in his voice.

The headlights from the van were bright. He looked towards them and then back at the stranger hovering over his aching body and saw his cold eyes. He couldn’t believe what was happening . . . it had to be a nightmare. He flinched as he felt the cold metal at his temple. Surely he’s gone mad . . . who the hell is this guy? ‘Please,’ he tried to call out. ‘Don’t kill me, I’ll do anything. I have a wife and children. Spare me, please.’ No sound came out of his mouth. He could feel a warm trickle down his leg. He tried to move, tried to get up. Just then, the gun left his temple. That’s when he felt the boot, again and again. His ribs ached, and he felt weak; his heart was racing. The acid was milling in his stomach, and he started to vomit. He heard the guy laughing, laughing. It was an evil laugh. He knew he was going to die, but when . . . ? How long would he tease him? The sound frightened him as he heard the trigger. He began to pray softly. ‘Please, God, help me. I will do anything if you save me.’ He began to tremble uncontrollably, and he felt a cold sweat wash over him. He could see the smirk on the guy’s face as he held the gun to his head once more. He began to cry pitifully as he lost control of his bowels. He could hear the engine of the van kick over and the familiar voice calling out as he came towards him. ‘Get it over with. We’ve got a job to do,’ he yelled. Claude grabbed hold of his cross and brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes and thought of his wife and children. He gave a thought to his mistress and asked there and then for forgiveness . . . ‘Our Father, who . . .‘

His friend heard the sound. It echoed loud in his ears. It was all over.

‘Bring the hacksaw. It’s on my side… on the floor,’ the blond yelled to him. It only needed one of them to saw through the right wrist. It had the letters on the first, second, and third fingers.

‘Hey, how about giving us a hand?’

‘Whose hand do you want, mine or his?’ he called back, adding a chuckle as he moved closer, placing the lifeless hand in the bag. The blond ignored the childish remark. He had serious work to do.

‘Hurry up, grab his feet, and we’ll try to get him into his vehicle.’ It was a struggle and took some time with both of them slipping and sliding in the mud, but they eventually managed to lift the heavy body. The bloody, muddy body without a heartbeat was now positioned and strapped into the driver’s seat. ‘Could’ve strapped him in his vehicle and then shot him, would’ve been much easier,’ the blond grumbled.

He didn’t answer him. The enjoyment for him was seeing Claude plead for his life and suffer. ‘Hurry up, get a move on. Get rid of this piece of shit once and for all, and then our job’s over with. Not only that, but we can get out of this friggin’ rain.’ He walked away with mixed emotions, his shoulders drooped.

The tall blond started the engine of Claude’s car and switched the headlights on. He leant over and released the handbrake and then edged his foot cautiously on to the accelerator. The car went at a slow pace, slipping in the mud, until it reached the soft edge. He held on to the door carefully and, at the same time, put pressure on the accelerator. He quickly jumped aside and then watched the car slip in the sodden soil. It began to fall from the cliff’s edge into the ravine below. He cursed as he slipped and fell face down, hitting his head on a rock. He heard the sound of the crash below. They both moved fast to flee the area, making sure they had the dead man’s belongings and the bag with his lifeless hand. It was a bumpy and slippery ride, and the rain kept falling.

Kenneth heard the gunshot and was pleased Tammy stayed sleeping. He sat up with a jolt and walked over to the curtain and pulled it aside and saw two men doing something on the ground. He watched as they moved about. He cursed the heavy rain as it limited his vision. There was something abnormal going on, which gave him some sort of intrigue. He was getting short of breath, and he felt sweaty all over, but he stayed at the window, not moving; his feet stuck to the floor. He opened the window slightly, hoping to hear voices, but the noise from the rain gave little hope. Next, he saw the white car going over the edge. He stood back in horror at what he’d just witnessed. He saw two bodies running across to the van, and, within seconds, it was on the dirt track coming his way. Although they could never see him, he moved his body back as if to hide himself. He felt ill from what he had just witnessed, that nauseous feeling in his stomach. He thought of perhaps going to the scene when they were gone, but the thought quickly left him. He wasn’t sure just what he would be getting into. He peered again out of the small window and saw the last of the tail lights. He had an eerie feeling that what he had just seen was not good. Someone could be suffering in that car they’d pushed over the cliff. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a small towel.

He told Tammy, when she woke, about what he’d seen.

‘We must go and tell the police,’ she said, looking troubled.

‘Do you want to advertise our affair?’ he said.

‘But what if they have murdered someone? You said you heard a shot.’

‘Look, we’ve got to keep quiet about this. It’s none of our business. Can you imagine if we went snooping, our prints would be splayed in the mud?’

They had a deadline to meet. Time was ticking by, and it wasn’t meant to take this long.

A call was made to the truckie. ‘Be approximately twenty,’ was all that was said.

The rig was parked in the side road off the highway. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. The siding was hidden and used mainly by truckies as a rest stop. The driver was hovering impatiently, the glow from his cigarette visible. The van pulled up on the inside, close to the scrub. The transfer of the bags took place while the truckie kept an eye open. When the job was completed, the bearded truck driver handed over the cardboard box. They checked its contents; it was full of cash. They had met before but never had much to say to each other. The truck driver was tall and lean, wearing army pants with an army jacket. He smelt of diesel. No words were spoken. They watched him as he jumped up into his truck and then heard the engine start. They lit a cigarette and waited for him to get on to the highway and out of sight before they headed off, some distance behind.

On the drive back, he was sombre. The years they were friends and the relationship they had formed was on his mind. That was all before he found out what Claude had done. No forgiving him for that. He suddenly felt nauseous. After all he’d done for him over the years! He clung to the box with Claude’s belongings and knew he had to get rid of the contents quickly. He thought he’d wrap them in some weights and throw them into the lake. He’d keep the hand, as he had a plan, something that’d keep the family wondering.

They made a quick stop at the flat in Morningside. The only sound that could be heard was the key in the lock. They spent just enough time to count the cash and stack it into piles and store it safely in the safe. ‘I love the smell of money and so will my flock of birds,’ said the blond. He was glad the night was over. He could now settle back into his small flat in Fortitude Valley and continue writing his books until he got a call for his next job. They were usually few and far between, but he didn’t care. When the work came, the money was good. Each new experience helped him write his murder mysteries. It’s firsthand knowledge, and each case was so different. He loved it when they grovelled for their life. Like the fifteen-year-old, she had promised him that she’d shut her mouth about the courier job Daniel did if he would just let her go. She whined and carried on, but it didn’t help her. They’d never find her body. He remembered promising a few before he pulled the trigger. He laughed out loud. It was easy money for such a simple, pleasurable job. He never did a job until he was paid first; it’s the way he worked, and he never let them down. He mixed socially with his friends and neighbours, but all they knew about him was that he was an author and a good one at that. He’d made a name for himself. Everyone has a double life, he reckoned. ‘Tell me someone who hasn’t,’ he’d often remarked.

Chapter 2

1939

The Russo brothers were from Verona in Italy, and just after they were married in 1939, they moved to Australia by ship for a better life. They both had relatives who had lived here for many years, and they were the ones who urged the brothers to move across the waters with their new brides. The two wives found it difficult to leave their small village and their family behind. It wasn’t a happy occasion for them to say goodbye. The four of them travelled to the port of Naples and boarded the ship for the long trip to Australia. It was expected that when their siblings got married, they too would travel the seas and join them in the lucky country. They settled in Melbourne and found life to be so different to what they were used to back home. Although they mixed with the Italian community, it just wasn’t their little village. Claudia missed her family and wanted to return within the week. She cried but to no avail. She missed the cobbled streets and the familiarity of Verona. Gino urged her to give it time and many a night held her as she cried herself to sleep. She didn’t know just how long it would be until she saw her mama and her siblings again. She would have to accept the separation and begin a whole new life. Besides, to make it worse, the war had broken out, and no ships were able to sail across the seas.

Claudia found the language barrier difficult when she went shopping, and even found people unforgiving when she couldn’t understand the new language. People said and did terrible things to the Italians. Their relatives helped them, and soon, Claudia and Rosa began to settle into this new city and managed, over time, to use and understand the language. Whenever they tried to read something in the newspaper or saw a sign they didn’t understand, they would ask for the definition of the words. Often they would write things down on a notepad, and after dinner of an evening, they would turn it all into a game. They would add a new word to the list almost daily and found it easier to repeat the word over and over and then put it into a sentence. Once the men were in the workforce, they had to learn quickly. This city was so busy after their quaint little village, but within a year, they had all fallen in love with the city of Melbourne.

They settled in Carlton, and it wasn’t long before they found their way easily around the suburbs, using public transport. Gino Russo found work as a motor mechanic, and his brother Dante worked in a restaurant as a chef. They both followed their professions from back in the old country. Eighteen months after arriving, they purchased two blocks of land side by side. With all the families’ help, they built their separate homes, all working constantly until they were completed.

Enrico was the first son born in 1941 to Dante and Rosa and was named after his paternal grandfather. Then a daughter, Pina, was born in 1944. Gino and Claudia had a son, Claude Antony, born in 1942, who was also named after his paternal grandfather. It was customary to do so. Then his brother Dino, arrived three years later, in 1945. Claude was his mother and father’s dream come true. They wanted the firstborn to be a son, and they got what they wished for. He was born on 9 September 1942, in Melbourne, on a sunny spring day.

Chapter 3

1947-1959

Claude Antony Russo was five years old and excited as it was his first day at school. All the children were gathering with their parents in the large hall. He only knew Sally, the girl who lived across the street from him. The parents stood together, talking, while Sally and Claude chatted about their new school cases. They both jumped around with excitement in anticipation of their new day. He had been looking forward to this day as Enrico had already started the year before, and he felt left out. His school bag had the initials CAR for Claude Antony Russo, and hers SAP for Sally Ann Purcell.

‘All the boys over this side, and all the girls over here,’ called the woman, indicating with her hand to the position in the room.

‘Mama, go now. Teacher will look after,’ she told Claude as he clung to her skirt.

‘Please stay, Mama. I don’t want to be here on my own. Please… please, stay,’ he whimpered.

‘Hurry along, all the boys on this side, quickly,’ the teacher called out. Claude watched as his mama slipped away leaving him crying, and in the hands of his new teacher. He looked across the room and watched Sally skip with the other girls, taking their places in the queue. Claude followed the boys in the line but wondering just when his mama would fetch him. He felt lost in this big class room with the other children rushing and pushing around him. He didn’t like that, so he stood back away from everyone. Then he felt the tears coming, and he wanted his mama.

‘Come with me, Claude. You can sit on the floor with Sally,’ said the teacher, kindly. He sat down beside her and at once he felt better. He watched the teacher gather the other children together, forming a circle.

‘Shush now,’ the teacher called out, clapping her hands while still keeping the smile on her face.

Claude thought she was nice; she was tall and skinny, with white hair and glasses. She was kind to him, just like his mama.

Claude and Sally sat with the other children at recess while they ate their fruit. Then a bell rang out, and they were allowed to go and play. Sally took off with some girls to play with a skipping rope, and Claude was left standing on his own. He wandered over to the big swings and joined another boy, who was swinging from his legs on the bar.

‘Watch me. Can you do this?’ called out the boy as Claude watched him hang from one leg.

‘Sure,’ answered Claude as he ran to occupy the empty swing. ‘Look at me! Look how high I can go?’ He pushed himself higher and higher until he heard the bell ring and saw all the children running to the hall. He slowed down and jumped from the moving swing and followed the others into the assembly hall. When he got into the classroom, they were all allowed to do some drawing, using the display of coloured pencils. The teacher, Miss Bentley, was tending to two girls who were upset. When Claude looked over, one of the girls had blood coming from her knee, and she was crying. The teacher was putting a cover over it.