Already Dead (28 page)

‘Before I lose it again,' Kate said, ‘I want to apologise for how things ended up yesterday. I knew as soon as you'd left I'd got it wrong and I felt bad because I'd asked you to come and it can't have been easy for you. Hugh said he passed on my apology when you met up but I wanted to do it myself. So,' she smiled a little, ‘sorry.'

Hugh must have told Kate about their conversation, at least the bits he was happy to tell. He hadn't passed on anything from Kate – but there were other issues he'd wanted to make clear. ‘He thought you'd be upset if you saw me again.'

‘Yes, he suggested I didn't.' Kate gave a little lopsided smile. ‘I'm not good at following other people's advice.'

Now Jax liked her more – and that made her want to be honest. ‘Actually, you were right to be suspicious of my questions yesterday but not for the reason you thought. I'm not planning legal action, I want to know what happened on the motorway. Why, how. For myself. To make sense of it. Because I can't make sense of other things in my life. Selfish reasons.'

Kate stilled, her fingers firming around the handle of her cup.

‘I understand your need to talk,' Jax went on, ‘and for a whole lot of reasons, I'd like to be the one you talk to. But Hugh could be right. The things I want to talk about might upset you more than you already are.'

Shifting her gaze to the beach, Kate watched as a wave surged, crested then pounded the shore before responding. ‘I want to talk about Brendan. He's not the one making me cry. It's walking around knowing he's not here anymore. That there's no more time to get our lives back on track. I want to know why that happened, too.'

Jax wanted to cheer her kindred spirit but just nodded. ‘Brendan said a lot of things that didn't make sense. I've been trying to work out how much was real and how much was in his head – and I guess how much I was sucked into it.' She paused, decided to jump right in. ‘I think a lot of it was real. I think something happened to him last weekend. Something that wasn't just his PTSD.'

It was a second or two before Kate did anything but grip her coffee in both hands. ‘What?' she finally asked.

A year ago, it could have been Jax waiting for worse news about Nick. It could still happen one day – if Brendan was proof of anything, it was that. ‘I don't know yet, and I'm not sure that what happened won't be awful or that it won't be Brendan's fault. I was chased by two men a couple of days ago and someone broke into my house yesterday. I think it's got something to do with it.'

Kate winced like she was in pain.

‘Look, I could be completely off the mark,' Jax tried to reassure her. ‘I could be seeing bad guys everywhere. I've got questions you might be able to answer, that might help piece some of it together. I won't tell you what I find if you don't want to know, but I will keep looking.'

Jax watched as Kate sat in tight-lipped silence for a long time. Was it anger? At Jax or Brendan – or something else? Eventually, lifting her chin, Kate said, ‘What do you want to ask me?'

Digging the notebook from her handbag, Jax placed it and a pen on the table and found a smile, hoping it conveyed empathy more than eagerness. ‘Did Brendan know anyone who'd run over a pedestrian?'

Kate blinked, frowned, maybe wondering if she'd agreed to answer questions from an idiot.

‘Wait. I'm sorry.' Jax held up a hand. ‘I'm trying to fill in gaps and the questions might seem pointless. It's possible they are, but please, bear with me.'

A lip chewed: doubt and thought. ‘When we lived in Darwin, one of our neighbours hit a guy outside a pub. It happened before we knew him but he told us about it. He didn't like to drive and he asked for lifts sometimes.'

‘Brendan said the sound of it had kept his friend awake for months.'

‘Something like that.'

Jax made a tick in her notebook. ‘Did Brendan ever talk about wanting to meet with a reporter?'

‘No.'

‘Did he ever think he was being followed, or that people were after him?'

‘No.'

‘Did he have friends in Sydney?'

‘A couple of his army mates live not far from his flat. Marty and Simon. He met them for a drink a few times and he went to Simon's for dinner once. The wife is English. God, I can't remember her name. Anyway, they've got four kids and she cooked a huge roast with Yorkshire pudding
and sent him home with leftovers.' Kate smiled a little, as though remembering the conversation with Brendan afterwards. At least the answers were achieving something.

‘Did you ever meet them?'

Kate nodded. ‘I haven't seen either of them since Brendan left the army but they both phoned this week. They're organising a group to come up for the funeral.'

‘People Brendan was spending time with in Sydney?'

‘No, his old unit.'

‘Did Marty or Simon see Brendan last week?'

‘The three of them had a drink the week before. Brendan talked to me on the phone while he was with them at the pub.' She looked away. ‘They're both really shocked about what happened. They thought he was doing great.'

Her voice had grown slower, sadder, and Jax felt as though she was on borrowed time, like she had with Zoe in the cafe. There was no tantrum brewing, of course, but Jax's compulsion to get through her questions was racing Kate's capacity to continue.

‘Hey, Mum!' Scotty called. He and Zoe were standing at the top of the beach stairs, hopeful expressions on their faces. ‘Can we go down to the sand?'

Kate looked a question at Jax.

‘Hard to say no when it's so close,' Jax said.

‘More suncream first,' Kate told them.

‘Can we have a swim?' Zoe asked.

Jax searched for the flags. ‘They're way down the beach today. And we don't have swimmers or a towel. Let's stick to sandcastles.'

Five minutes later, Jax followed the children down the steps, the hot, dry sand oozing between her toes like liquid. Standing beside Kate while Zoe and Scotty started
their dig, she sensed the other woman's relief at the wind in her hair and the interruption.

‘Are you okay?' Jax asked. ‘Do you need a break?'

‘No. It's bringing back some good memories.'

‘Okay.' She touched Kate's arm briefly for encouragement. ‘Brendan told me he tried to warn you but,' she checked her notes on his words, ‘he said you didn't know what he was telling you.' She looked up again. ‘Detective Hawke said you had some missed calls from Brendan last weekend. Was there anything about them you might have considered a warning?'

Kate's eyes drifted up and away. ‘There were two missed calls from him when Scotty and I got home from the beach on Sunday morning. Brendan rang again that night. Twice, but he didn't get through. The second time, the phone was beside the bed, it only took a couple of seconds to get to it but he was already gone. I thought it was bad reception and when he's working, he can't always take calls, so I sent him a text but he didn't try again. On Monday, it was early. I was still asleep and by the time I got my eyes open, it'd stopped ringing. I had to pee before I could call back and it went again while I was in the bathroom.'

‘Same thing, two attempts?'

‘Yes. I phoned back and sent a text but got no answer.'

‘Did he get through to your message bank?'

‘No.'

‘So they were all hang-ups?'

‘Or bad reception.'

Brendan was on CCTV on the Harbour Bridge on Sunday and he got in Jax's car in Wahroonga, in the northern reaches of Sydney, on Monday afternoon. Sydney had its dodgy reception points but it wasn't hard to find
a better place to phone. ‘Did you ever talk about using hang-ups to send messages to each other?'

‘We had a signal when we only had one car. If one of us was out and needed a lift home, we'd call then hang up after three rings. It saved on phone credit.'

‘Three rings? Not two?'

‘You think it might've been a message?'

Three rings to be picked up, two hang-ups for … what? Stay away? Stay put? Get the hell out? Don't forget to buy milk? ‘There's a pattern, so … maybe.' Jax lifted a shoulder and let it drop. ‘I really don't know.'

Beside her, Kate folded her arms around her waist, stared at the surf. If she was feeling bad about missing a message, the next question wasn't going to help. But they'd come this far.

‘Your argument with Brendan over the phone on Saturday,' Jax said, ‘it was about taking an extra shift, right?'

The hands at Kate's waist curled into fists. ‘Yes.'

‘Did he end up working on Saturday night?'

‘I don't know. I never talked to him again.' She swallowed hard, her voice thick as she spoke again. ‘He was waiting on a call when I spoke to him. He thought there might be a shift going.'

‘What was the job?'

Her shrug was taut with remorse. ‘I was ticked off he was even considering it. He hadn't been home for two weeks, we'd barely seen him since New Year and he'd just driven to Melbourne and back. He was tired, he needed a break and we wanted to see him. I wasn't interested in the details. I just said my piece and told him the decision was his.'

Jax remembered arguments like that. She'd supported Nick's work but when it took over their lives, she'd had to take a stand – and sometimes not showing an interest was the only way to make a point. Brendan had either missed Kate's point or chosen to ignore it because it looked like he'd worked for Nina Torrence later that evening.

The indistinct photo of him at the party flashed in Jax's mind as she composed the next question. ‘Did he ever mention working for the solicitor Nina Torrence?'

‘Oh yeah,' Kate said, no surprise in it at all. ‘It's awful what happened to her.'

Jax had conducted interviews in the past armed with information she knew the other person didn't have. It was tricky and the questions depended on the answers she was hoping to get. She'd caught a politician in a big lie once – kudos for her, embarrassing for him. But this wasn't an interview. It was personal, more than likely hurtful.
Don't let Kate know what you're thinking
, she told herself,
or she might tell you nothing
.

Lacing her tone with the oh-wow intrigue of the average newspaper reader, Jax said, ‘How well did Brendan know Nina?'

‘Not that well. He was her bodyguard at a few Christmas parties last year. It was only two or three shifts, a trial run to see if she liked him.' Kate stopped to draw breath before talking on quickly as though pleased to be discussing something less painful than her final argument with Brendan. ‘Nina wasn't like some of the others he worked for. He said she was a bit over it, just wanted him to keep a low profile. Drive her around, hang about, be discreet, that kind of thing.'

‘So she wasn't expecting anyone to run at her with a knife or a gun?'

Kate shook her head. ‘He thought the job was more chauffeur than bodyguard. Chauffeur with skills, I guess.'

‘What was Nina like?'

‘A talker, a bit needy, Brendan said.'

‘A bit of a princess?'

‘Yes, but lonely. He thought she needed a friend more than a bodyguard. Reckoned she only talked to him because she knew he couldn't blab. He had to sign a confidentiality agreement, so I guess she thought she was safe. Pretty bad that you can only talk to someone when they've signed a legal document.'

Maybe not safe even then. ‘I met her a few times, years ago,' Jax said. ‘She was just starting to climb the ladder. Clever and gorgeous and a hoot at a party. I guess the top rungs are lonely, though.'

‘Oh, she had company. That's why she couldn't talk to anyone.'

‘Because of the people she knew? The clients?'

‘Not people. One person. She was having an affair. A long one.' Kate scrunched a toe into the sand. ‘I didn't sign anything and I guess it doesn't matter now. It was with a politician's son. That rich one.' She rubbed her head. ‘God, I can't remember his name either today.'

‘Stan Fairfield?'

‘No. A state MP. The one with the family business and the son who was up on fraud charges.'

‘David Escott.' Long-serving parliamentarian and government minister several times over. A big fundraiser for various causes, his parties were always listed for the social pages – hence Deanne needing her hair done for tomorrow night.

‘Yeah, him. Only Nina was having the affair with another son. The one who runs the business.'

‘Dominic Escott.'

‘Mmm, well, she told Brendan all about it. She was the guy's lawyer before she started sleeping with him.'

‘She still was when she was murdered,' Jax said, remembering the clients mentioned in the media stories she'd read during the night.

‘Well, the arrangement must've worked because he put up half the money for that big house in the eastern suburbs. I saw it in a magazine a couple of months ago. Unbelievable.'

Jax had seen the same glossy spread. Lots of glass, lots of expensive things, hints of too-much-for-one-person. She'd read it with a smile, remembering the share house she'd dropped Nina home to years ago. Lawyer and lover, she thought now. Lawyer with benefits or lover who kept professional secrets? ‘Did they break up? Was that why she wanted a bodyguard?'

‘No. It was Dominic who organised them for her. He had them, too. I think he used some of the same ones. They were cash jobs, which was why Brendan was keen. The money was almost double what he got with Secure Force.'

‘So Brendan was a bodyguard for Dominic first?'

‘No, only for Nina. Hugh recommended him – Dominic only takes people on recommendation.'

‘Hugh works for Dominic Escott, too?' Jax asked. Was Dominic one of the ‘useful civilian contacts' he'd mentioned?

‘Not as a bodyguard. He's a personal security advisor – I think that's what he calls himself. After Brendan moved to Sydney, Hugh put his name forward. Then he had to
have an interview and sign the confidentiality agreement before he was allowed to even meet Nina.'

Jax frowned. ‘So Dominic wanted the confidentiality agreement?'

‘Yeah. He's a real control freak, apparently. Brendan had to report back to some guy after each shift, even if it was God-knows-what-time in the morning. Tell him where Nina had been, if anyone had joined her, how much she'd had to drink – that kind of thing. And one time, there was this complicated set-up to get her to a rendezvous with Dominic. Brendan had to drive her to some house to get the address of another place, then ring ahead when they were on the way.'

‘Wow. The ups and downs of being a kept woman.'

‘Brendan said she put up with it because she wanted to be Mrs Escott.'

‘Mum?' It was Scotty, standing in front of Kate, his hands covered in sand. ‘I need to go.' The way he was dancing from foot to foot said he wasn't talking about home.

‘Okay. Brush off the sand and we'll head up.' Kate shot a glance at Jax, signalling for her to follow.

But Jax was still thinking about Nina and Brendan – about orders to report back and complicated arrangements for rendezvous. Did Brendan fail to call in on Saturday night? Or not deliver her? Had something happened after the party and he'd killed her, then panicked realising that someone would know it was him? Did Brendan throw Nina's body over a cliff, hoping the tide or sharks would make her a missing person instead of a murder victim?

‘Jax?'

She refocused, saw Brendan's wife and son in front of her, and wanted to be sick. ‘Sure. Come on, Zoe.'

As they worked their way back across the sand, squinting under hats in the sun that was now almost overhead, Kate said, ‘Nina was drunk one of the nights Brendan took her home. She wanted him to stay for a drink. She was crying and pouring more alcohol down her throat so he hung around and made her tea and toast. He said he felt like a butler then. Anyway, that's when she told him about the affair and pretending for years she wasn't with the guy and being at the same parties as his wife, and how she thought the bodyguards were to protect Dominic, not her. Keep her in line in case she felt like spilling any secrets when she got drunk and resentful. She was still holding out for the ring and the kids, though. She wanted the whole box and dice. Brendan felt really sorry for her.'

Brendan made tea and toast for her? Jax did a mental shake of her head.

Did he feel sorry enough for Nina to sleep with her? Was that what happened after the party last weekend? Or did it happen on one of the earlier jobs? Maybe more than once. And … what? Nina threatened to tell his rich, powerful, control-freak boss so Brendan killed her.

‘Did Brendan put the tea and toast in his report that night?' Jax asked.

‘No. He figured it wasn't anyone's business if she needed a shoulder to cry on.'

‘He told you, though. Despite the confidentiality agreement.'

They were at the top of the stairs, Scotty dragging on Kate's hand as she talked over her shoulder. ‘No-one really expects you not to talk to your wife about stuff, do they? And he needed to tell someone. I was glad he was talking to me about his work.'

Jax sat on the wall with Zoe and watched as Kate walked Scotty to the Men's, as she pushed sunglasses onto her head and waited in the shade by the door for her son to reappear.

Brendan had wanted to protect Kate. If he'd slept with Nina, Kate didn't know. But she knew about the affair with Dominic Escott. Was someone worried Kate might tell? Who could one school teacher-wife tell that would make the world sit up and say, ‘Oooh'?

Then Jax's spine stiffened with realisation. Kate had told her – a former reporter, the wife of Nicholas Westing, someone with friends in the media. Was someone worried about what
Kate
might have told her? If someone was watching either one of them, there was plenty of reason to assume information was being passed back and forth.

About an affair? No, that didn't make sense. If there'd been rumours for years about Nina Torrence, there must have been rumours about
who
. Wealthy sons of politicians don't chase people and break into houses over an affair. They paid people off or got lawyers in. Lawyers who knew what needed to be kept quiet.

Jax held on to that thought for a moment. Nina was Dominic's lawyer – right up until she was murdered on Sunday morning. Was there more that Nina talked to Brendan about – that he didn't tell Kate? Had Nina been drunk and resentful on Saturday night, spilling the beans on whatever it was Dominic wanted kept quiet? Secrets that he – or someone – didn't want Kate and Jax to discuss.

‘Mummy?'

Or was it the other way around? Had Brendan talked to Nina about something he'd remembered from Afghanistan? Something he thought he needed legal advice for. That someone else wanted to keep in the past.

‘Mummy?'

Jax turned to Zoe, blinked. ‘Yes, baby.'

‘Can Scotty come to play at my new house one day?'

‘Sure. Why not sometime soon? Would you like to ask him?'

‘Can I?'

The question made Jax wince with guilt. Zoe hadn't had many play dates in the past year. Nick's death, the investigation, Jax's preoccupation – they'd all taken something from Zoe. Jax didn't want to let it happen in Newcastle. She had to get to the end of this. ‘I think you should. Here he is now.'

She waited until Zoe started her spiel before asking Kate, ‘Did you tell the police Brendan had been a bodyguard for Nina?'

‘I mentioned it to Detective Hawke. He wanted to know about Brendan's job, so I told him about some of the clients, including Nina.'

‘Was he surprised when you mentioned her?'

‘It's hard to tell with him – he doesn't give much away. He asked if I remembered when Brendan worked with her. I had to find last year's calendar to check the dates. And that was about it.' Kate cocked her head, reconsidering the conversation. ‘It's possible he already knew.'

Jax's eyebrows lifted, her shoulders tensed.

‘Oh, Mum!' Scotty's voice was suddenly loud. ‘Can I open this now?' His fingers were tugging the edge of a yellow padded postal envelope, the other end of it still in Kate's handbag.

‘I forgot about that. Sure, Scotty.' Kate glanced back at Jax. ‘The postie left a notification slip a couple of days ago that it was at the post office. It's for Scotty, the other reason I had to get out of the house today.'

‘Is it your birthday?' Zoe asked as he tore at the top.

‘Nuh-uh.' He pushed his fingers inside. ‘Oh, Mum, look. It's a phone!'

He pulled the slim black smartphone from the envelope and, for half a second, Jax wondered how her mobile had found its way there. Then a memory, a voice in her head:
What's this? How the fuck did you get this?

The phone in Scotty's hand looked like hers. Exactly like hers. Same model, same black rubber cover. The sight of it sent something scuttling up her spine.

Brendan had been confused by her phone. Had demanded how she got it.

Hers was in her bag.

This one had been posted to Brendan's son.