Cold Justice (30 page)

‘What’re you doing?’

‘Helping out.’

‘I don’t think that’s what it’s called.’

‘It’s good for them to have a mobile,’ he said. ‘They want to keep in touch with you more.’

‘It’s not necessary.’

He lowered his voice. ‘Are you forgetting that we almost lost you last year?’

‘So now you need to know where I am every second of the day? And what’s with the “we”?’

‘We’re all concerned,’ he said.

‘Lunch is ready,’ Netta called.

‘Don’t you have work to do?’ Ella said.

‘It’s good to have a break,’ Wayne said. ‘Why don’t you come over?’

‘I have to go.’ She hung up and sagged in her chair.

‘Sounds like trouble,’ Murray said.

‘Not. Another. Word.’

He held up his hands.

Focus on work. Forget them. Focus. Focus.

She took a deep breath and looked up. ‘How’d it go with the Commodore aunt and Steve Franklin?’

‘Nothing useful from either of them,’ Murray said. ‘But the DNA report on the blood spots on the leaves came in.’

‘Tavris?’

Murray shook his head sadly. ‘They even compared it to Tim’s blood, to see if it was from a relative.’

Ella sat up straight. ‘And?’

‘No match, so there goes your idea that it might’ve been his father.’

‘It only means the blood isn’t his, not that he didn’t do it,’ Ella said. ‘There could’ve been somebody else there helping. A body is a dead weight.’

‘Ha ha,’ Murray said. ‘Want some Crimestoppers reports? I haven’t looked at these ones yet.’

Each page was a record of a separate call to the Crimestoppers hotline, and the calltaker had entered what the caller said and whether they’d given their name. Ella knew sometimes people rang hoping to cause somebody a bit of hassle by having the cops turn up on their doorstep. The first two reports she read were anonymous so were possibly mischief calls. The next two had given lots of detail, both about themselves and the woman they thought they recognised.

The first of those callers, Anton Simic, had said the woman was named Carolyn Pearce. She lived in Bronte and worked as an interior designer. When asked by the calltaker why he thought she might have called the police about the murder, he’d said, ‘She told me once that she knew things.’

‘What things?’ the calltaker asked.

‘She wouldn’t say. She was very mysterious. And I swear that picture is of her.’

Ella typed the names into the system. Neither had a record. Pearce still lived in Bronte, while Simic lived in Randwick.

‘How do you know this woman?’ the calltaker had asked.

‘We used to go out.’

Ella made a note about that. The potential for it to be a mischief call was high.

The second detailed report came from a Julia Palmer who rang about a woman who was often in the shop where she worked. ‘Her first name’s Dani,’ she’d said. ‘She’s about forty, forty-five. I don’t know her last name but I think it might start with K because she’s got those personalised plates on her red Mini: DK something something something.’ The shop was a corner supermarket in Asquith. Palmer lived nearby.

Ella entered the details. Julia Palmer had no record. A search for a red Mini with plates starting with DK produced one result, in the name of Danielle Kingsley, forty-three years old. A check of her criminal record showed that in 1988 she’d been charged with possession of stolen property and given a fine and suspended sentence.

Interesting.

Ella wrote down Kingsley’s address, then typed in the details from the two anonymous sheets. The first alleged that the woman in the photo was Suzette Dearbridge. The computer showed her to be nineteen and living in Wollongong, and while pictures could sometimes lie, Ella would’ve put money on the CCTV woman being at least thirty-five. The second report said that the woman was Josephine Smith, and a check of the computer gave three results for the name: one eighty-three years old, one sixty and one thirty-nine. Ella checked the record of the younger one and found only a seven-year-old drink-driving charge. She lived in Katoomba. Ella scribbled down her details just in case.

She ran her eye quickly over the list of names and addresses of Commodore owners but nothing matched.

She took another report from Murray’s pile. An anonymous caller, a male, gave the name Christine Harrington and said, ‘I know she killed that guy because she’s a fucking bitch.’ Ella liked how the calltakers transcribed every detail. She typed in the name and found her, twenty years old, so too young to have actually killed Tim. Somebody was angry at her, so angry he couldn’t read.

Her phone beeped.

wyn is tchn me txt tlk. lolol!!

Oh for God’s sake.

Her phone rang. ‘What!’

‘Is this a bad time?’ Callum said.

‘Sorry. No, it’s fine. How are you?’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘I just thought I’d let you know – I mean, you might know already – but Tim’s sister, Haydee, is up from Adelaide for a couple of days and staying in the house. I thought you might want to talk to her.’

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘We didn’t know. Thanks very much.’

She hung up and said to Murray, ‘Fancy a trip to the Pieterses’?’

He didn’t lift his eyes from the report. ‘Now?’

‘Tim’s sister’s in town.’

‘You go.’

‘I think you should meet them.’

Now he looked up. ‘So I can see the father’s horns and pointy tail?’

‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘And while we’re in the area we can check out one of these Crimestoppers reportees and the Hornsby PQW Commodore as well.’

‘Efficiency, thy middle name is Ella,’ he said.

‘Shut up and come on.’

Josh opened the door and leapt into Ella’s arms. ‘Hello!’

‘Hi, Josh. This is Murray.’

Josh hugged him too. ‘Did you catch the bad man?’

‘Not yet,’ Murray said.

John came to the door. ‘Come in, come in.’ He shook Murray’s hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘You too,’ Murray said.

‘You’re just in time for afternoon tea.’ John led them into the kitchen where Alistair McLennan was cutting slices from an iced cake. ‘Coffee?’

‘Not for me,’ Ella said.

‘I’d love one, thanks,’ Murray said. He nodded at Alistair. ‘Detective Murray Shakespeare.’

Alistair wiped his hands on a tea towel then shook Murray’s hand. ‘Dr Alistair McLennan. Tim’s uncle.’

‘Ella, come see!’ Josh was in the backyard, waving through the kitchen window. ‘Haydee found a spider!’

A woman in her late thirties with cropped blonde hair stood in the garden holding a stick. Ella went out.

‘This is the police lady,’ Josh said to the woman.

‘I’m Haydee.’ She tossed the stick in the garden and put out her hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too. May we talk?’

‘Sure.’ She looked at Josh who was crouched over a hole in the grass. ‘Don’t put your finger in there.’

‘I won’t.’

Ella said, ‘I know this isn’t easy. It must feel like things settle down and then along we come and stir it all up again.’

Haydee shook her head. ‘It’s always there. Anything I can do to help I absolutely will do.’

‘Were you and Tim close?’

‘Once I would have said yes,’ she said. ‘That last year or so, though, he’d really changed.’

‘In what way?’

‘He’d turned nasty. He’d pick fights with me and Joshy and was terrible to Mum and Dad. I know they say you shouldn’t speak badly of the dead, but truly he’d become a bit of an arsehole.’

‘Any ideas why?’

‘Because he was a teenage boy?’ She shrugged. ‘When I heard afterwards about the drinking I thought that probably had something to do with it as well.’

‘You didn’t know about that?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I feel like I should’ve known, but I didn’t.’

‘What about girls?’

‘I think there was one earlier that year,’ she said. ‘I never met her or anything, and he certainly never mentioned her, but I had the impression for a while that he was meeting somebody now and then.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Just a feeling,’ she said. ‘He sometimes had this look on his face. He looked happy. Like he was in love. But then it was almost like he realised he was showing it and would lock that face away. I don’t know why. But that whole experience might’ve had something to do with his nastiness as well. When it stopped, you know. Might’ve broken his heart.’

‘But you don’t know for sure?’

‘No.’

‘Do you think it could’ve been a boy rather than a girl?’

‘The gay thing,’ she said. ‘I heard about that later. I couldn’t say really. I couldn’t see it then, but kids can hide stuff pretty well when they want to.’

Ella nodded. ‘Do you remember anything unusual happening in the time leading up to his death?’

‘Just the fight on the night he died.’ She looked down at Josh who was trailing a golden ribbon through the grass. ‘Tim was being a complete turd, arguing with Mum and Dad, being mean to Callum, rude to Uncle Alistair and Aunty Gen, and then when Dad said he couldn’t go out that night he lost it. Started shouting at them, saying they never listened, they didn’t let him talk, just told him to shut up and get on with whatever they told him to do, all they ever did was boss him around. Blah blah.’

‘Did you agree with his assessment?’

Haydee shook her head. ‘Our life wasn’t like that. We were just expected to help out a bit, clean up after ourselves. That’s all.’

Ella wondered if they were her true feelings at the time. Through the prism of adulthood such requirements might look more reasonable than they felt then. ‘Then what?’

‘He and I argued as well. I told him he was being a little shit and to pull his head in. He told me to fuck off and he walked away. Later we realised he wasn’t there any more.’ She wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands. ‘Dad was furious but I thought good riddance. The party was better without him hanging around being shitty. I didn’t know I’d never speak to him again.’

Ella could imagine.

‘I went to bed about ten so I didn’t know Dad went out looking till the next morning,’ she said. Mum went up to his room and he wasn’t there. She called his friends to ask where they’d been the night before, I guess they were hedging because I remember she started yelling at them, then Dad got on and was all serious and angry. They said they’d been at the pub and Tim had left, nobody knew when or where he went but they’d just assumed he came home. I went to his room and his stuff wasn’t there, no wallet or anything, and his bed was made like he usually made it, just kind of dragged up to the pillow, and it was eerie, seeing that. His room still smelled like his deodorant as well.’ She wept.

Ella lowered her gaze. Josh was kneeling at their feet and drawing the golden ribbon across Haydee’s bare toes. ‘Better?’ he said.

‘I’m all right, Joshy.’ She wiped her face on her forearm. ‘I’m okay. It just hits me sometimes. He should still be here, you know?’

Ella nodded.

‘Do you think you’ll catch whoever did it?’

‘I hope so,’ Ella said. ‘I wish I could give you more than that.’

Tamara called from inside. ‘Haydee, phone.’

‘Need anything more?’

‘I’ll catch you later if I do,’ Ella said. ‘Thanks very much.’

When Haydee had gone inside Ella crouched beside Josh. ‘Where’s the spider?’

He pointed to the hole. ‘Don’t put your finger in.’ He dangled the ribbon in the air. ‘Do you like my ribbon?’

‘It’s lovely. Where did you get it?’

‘It’s Tim’s. He told me I couldn’t play with it but Callum said it’s okay now.’ He laid it flat on the grass. ‘Haydee was crying because you were talking about Tim.’

‘Yes, she was.’

‘I sometimes cry when I think about Tim.’

Ella nodded. ‘Do you think about him a lot?’

‘We used to play Star Wars and now I don’t have anybody to play it with.’

‘That’d be tough.’

‘I want you to catch the bad man who hurt him.’

‘So do I,’ she said.

‘Then the bad man can’t hurt me.’

She looked at him. ‘Are you worried about the bad man hurting you?’

‘A bit,’ he said. ‘Tim was big and strong and he couldn’t stop him.’

‘Josh.’ She put her hand on his arm, the blood suddenly buzzing in her head. ‘Do you know who the bad man is?’

He shook his head. ‘Is he like a monster who comes when it’s dark?’

‘No,’ she said, blood subsiding a little, ‘and he’s nothing for you to worry about. We won’t let him hurt you, I promise.’

In the car Murray said, ‘They all seemed lovely.’

She sighed and tried to clear her mind. ‘Did you talk to Tamara?’

‘She’s the nicest of the lot! While you were playing Steve Irwin in the yard, we had a good chat.’

‘Really,’ Ella said. ‘What about?’

‘About stress, how it affects relationships, how it’s been tough for her and John.’

‘What’d you think of John?’

‘He’s a bereaved father but a nice guy,’ Murray said. ‘Alistair’s decent too. We had a chat as well.’

‘You’ve been quite the conversationalist.’

Her phone beeped. She looked at the screen.
hlo, hw r u? im eatng aple, dad eatng pch. lol!
Delete.

‘It’s always interesting talking to doctors,’ he said. ‘We discussed my cruciate ligament problem. He had some thoughtful opinions on the various physical therapies.’

‘I bet he did.’ She indicated and turned left. ‘Who doesn’t love talking shop on their day off?’

‘It wasn’t like that. He was really into it. Told me about different cruciate ligament injuries he’d seen and everything.’

‘You like saying cruciate ligament, don’t you?’

He waved a hand at her. ‘He’s concerned about Josh too. He was watching when you were talking out the back and saying how he’s put on weight lately, how he hoped all this wasn’t stressing him too much. Asked Tamara to take him in for a check-up.’

‘Stressed is the last word I’d use to describe Josh.’

‘Still, he’s worried,’ Murray said. ‘And you know what? I don’t think any of them have horns.’

Danielle Kingsley’s house was a little green weatherboard in a quiet street in Asquith. Ella rattled the old cowbell fixed to the front door.

The door opened. ‘Yes?’ The woman was in her early twenties with long blonde hair and a blue-eyed toddler on her hip.