Cold Justice (35 page)

Ella’s scalp prickled. ‘Was Tim sad about that?’

‘He said he wasn’t, but I could tell that he was.’

Ella leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Did Tim tell you the princess’s name?’

Josh lowered his voice to match. ‘Fairy princess.’

‘That was all?’ Murray said, frowning.

‘Yep,’ Josh said. ‘Can I have the ribbon back?’

‘Say please,’ said John.

‘Please.’

Ella let it drop into his hand. ‘Thanks so much for your help.’

‘That’s okay.’ He smiled. ‘Did you catch the bad man yet?’

‘Not quite yet,’ she said. ‘But I’ll let you know when we do.’

In the car Ella said, ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Fairytales have a lot to answer for.’ Murray shook his head as he turned the key. ‘Princesses, wizards . . . I’m surprised he didn’t bring Skywalker into it as well.’

‘Think for a moment, idiot,’ she said. ‘This was Tim telling Josh what was going on in his life, both in a way that he could understand and that didn’t give away too much if he let it slip to anyone else.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘That ribbon belonged to our girl.’

‘What?’

‘The fairy princess is Freya.’

‘Now you’re really –’

‘The evil wizard who took her means Freya started seeing someone else.’

‘No way.’

‘Yes way,’ Ella said. ‘She meant a lot to Tim. What if there was trouble, jealousy, he couldn’t let her go, and this new boyfriend killed him?’

Murray blinked in confusion. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say oh my God, Ella, you’re a genius.’

Her phone rang. ‘Marconi.’

‘It’s Georgie Riley.’ She sounded tense.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Not really.’ Ella heard her take a deep breath. ‘That Barnaby McCrow, the one who I thought was following me, is missing from Woolford. My brother-in-law’s a cop there and they went to get him for a burglary and he was gone.’

‘Have you seen him? Has he made any contact?’

‘No, I haven’t been out of the flat since I heard,’ she said. ‘But I have to go to work again tonight.’

‘Might be an idea not to.’

‘But I’m on this assessment with Freya,’ she said. ‘It’s tricky to take time off.’

‘Even so.’

Georgie was silent.

‘Well, look,’ Ella said. ‘We don’t know for sure that he’s in the city, and we have no real proof that he’s even actually done anything. The print results for the card and envelope that came with the flowers aren’t back, and even then I doubt we’ll find anything. It sounds like he was careful.’

‘I know,’ Georgie said.

‘On the other hand, you think you’ve seen him watching you.’

‘What would you do if you were me?’

‘I can’t answer that,’ Ella said. ‘You’re the only one who knows how you feel. It has to be totally your call.’

‘I guess so.’ She went quiet again. ‘Okay. Thanks.’

‘Hang on.’ Ella took a deep breath. ‘Give me your side of things on Tim Pieters and Freya.’

Silence. Ella raised her eyebrows at Murray. ‘Georgie?’

‘I’m glad she told you,’ Georgie said. ‘I only learned about it on Saturday and it’s been on my mind ever since.’

‘I can imagine.’ Ella pulled out her notebook and pen. ‘She didn’t tell me exactly how you found out.’

‘Her husband, James, was over and saw the photo of Tim in the paper, and said Freya told him she’d lost her virginity to him but never said he was murdered.’

Ella scrawled madly. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘I brought it up the next time we worked but she denied it. I didn’t really believe her – I mean, it seems a weird thing to make up. So I’m not surprised now to know that it’s true.’

‘Yes,’ Ella said.

‘It makes me feel strange, though,’ she said. ‘I was her best friend at school and I never had any idea.’

‘Even after he died? Wasn’t she upset?’

‘No,’ Georgie said. ‘She was supportive of me, and just her normal self.’

‘Maybe it was over by then.’

‘Maybe,’ Georgie said.

‘Did you ever see her with any other boy?’

‘No, never,’ Georgie said. ‘And then she left the school, and I didn’t see her again until I got teamed up to work with her last week.’

‘Has she still been denying it?’

‘We don’t even speak at the moment. She thinks you found out about her and Tim from me, when you came over about the flowers, and when we worked last night she was so furious she couldn’t even look at me.’

Ella scribbled a star and circled it. When someone got angry over a possible talk to the cops it was for just one reason: because they had something to hide.

FOURTEEN

F
reya squeezed her knees to her chest. She ached, she felt sick, she wanted to vomit, but when she got to the bathroom nothing came up and then she invariably almost fainted on the way back.

James sat behind her on the side of the bed. ‘Your back is all tight.’ He’d taken the day off work, worried about her. He gave her a final rub. ‘I’ll leave you be so you can sleep.’

‘Don’t go.’ Usually she wanted to be alone when she was sick. With this behaviour he would think she was at death’s door. ‘Will you snuggle me?’

He lay down behind her and fitted his body to hers. She liked the feel of him there, his elbow bent on her shoulder, his fingers stroking the back of her neck.

He felt her forehead, smoothed her hair. ‘Do you want me to get the doctor?’

She couldn’t tell him it wasn’t that sort of sickness.

There was a knock at the front door. James sighed in her hair. ‘Somebody selling something?’

‘Hopefully.’ She pulled his arm tight around her.

Another knock. A call: ‘Freya.’

Oh God.

‘It’s Detective Marconi. We need to talk.’

‘It’s who?’ James said.

‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

Freya launched herself out of the bed. In the bathroom she curled over the toilet.

‘You all right there for the moment?’ James asked.

She nodded, eyes closed, stomach in her throat. She heard him go downstairs and open the door, then the murmur of conversation.

She retched but nothing would come up.

Oh God.

James knelt beside her. ‘There’s two of them. I told them you were sick but they said it’s important.’

Freya slid to the floor and rested her cheek on the cold tiles.

‘Frey?’ He bent to look into her face. ‘Oh, honey. I’ll send them away. You’re too sick for anything, no matter how important. And then I’m calling the ambulance. You need to be in hospital.’ His voice was shaky with emotion.

‘No, I’m okay.’ She forced herself to sit up. ‘It’s okay. I’ll talk to them.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘You’re in no state.’

‘James.’ She grabbed his wrist. ‘It’s time.’

‘For what?’

‘For me to come clean.’

He frowned. ‘About what?’

‘Help me up.’

Once on her feet she found she was a little better, a little stronger. Was this what telling the truth could do?

James brought her dressing gown and helped her put it on.

‘About what?’ he said again.

‘Hold my hand.’

They went downstairs together.

‘Lean on me,’ he whispered.

‘I will.’

‘I mean now, while we’re walking.’

She squeezed his hand.

In the lounge room, Ella stood with one hand on her hip and the other tapping a notebook on her thigh. The male detective who’d come to the station to see Georgie had his hands in his pockets and a cold look on his face.

‘Detective Murray Shakespeare,’ he said.

‘I want to say straight up that I don’t think this is right,’ James said. ‘My wife is very ill.’

Freya squeezed his hand again. ‘It’s okay, really. I can do this.’ She sat down and he sat next to her.

‘Actually,’ Ella said, ‘we’d prefer to speak to your wife alone.’

Freya nudged him. ‘Go upstairs. I’ll be okay.’

He didn’t look like he believed her.

She kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll explain everything later.’

He kissed her in return, then went.

Freya felt hot and sick and frightened, but somewhere inside herself found a small, still place on which to stand.
It is time.

Ella stared at the pale woman. ‘Tell us about Tim.’

‘Okay.’

What?

But she was already talking, about after the soccer match, about the movies, the bus shelters and the classrooms and the bushland, and about Tim’s house.

Can it be this easy?

‘When did it end?’ Ella asked.

‘A couple of months before he died.’

‘Was killed, you mean,’ Ella said.

Freya nodded.

‘Who ended it?’

‘I did,’ she said. ‘I mean it was nothing official anyway, but I started seeing somebody else.’

‘How did Tim respond?’

‘Not well.’

‘What did he do?’

‘Called me names, followed me around.’

‘Were there any fights?’

She shook her head.

‘Any threats?’

Freya looked at the floor.

‘Protecting a murderer makes you an accessory,’ Murray said.

She looked up. ‘I’m not protecting a murderer.’

‘Who, then?’ Ella asked.

Freya rubbed her face.

‘Freya,’ Ella said.

‘I see him in my dreams.’

‘Tim?’

‘And not only there. I saw him after it happened. I saw him at school. In the corridors. Looking at me.’ She stared at the floor. ‘I was pleased when Mum freaked out and said we had to move, and I went to that boarding school in the country. But I still saw him, even there.’

Ella shot Murray a look. ‘And you still say you’re not protecting a murderer?’

‘We didn’t kill him.’

Maybe she was going to say it was self-defence.

‘So what did happen?’

Freya started to cry.

‘You’ve come this far,’ Ella said. ‘Take it step by step. Tell us one thing at a time.’

‘I went into the bushes cos I was busting.’

‘Say that again?’ Murray said.

‘I walked into the long grass laughing and stepped on his leg and almost died on the spot.’

Ella was astonished. ‘Wait a minute. You stepped on . . . Tim?’

Freya nodded.

Ella stared at Murray, who looked as stunned as she felt. She fumbled for words. ‘And then what?’

‘I must’ve made some noise because then, um, he got out of the car and came around. He was more freaked than I was, but I made him touch him, to see if he was warm or cold. He hated that. And I hate myself for not having had the courage to do anything.’

‘He who?’

Freya went on. ‘He said he was dead and we had to go. We rushed back to the car. He almost fell over, he was trying to get out of there so fast. He . . . he . . . In the car we argued about what we should do. We decided we couldn’t do anything. Tim was dead. It didn’t matter if we called or not.’

Murray said, ‘So you were the girl who found the body.’

‘Yes. Though we didn’t tell anyone. We couldn’t.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it would’ve ruined our lives.’ Freya wept. ‘He was married and I was sixteen, for God’s sake. He had a baby. She was asleep in the car at the time! What do you think would’ve happened?’

Ella said, ‘There’s nothing to be gained in hiding the truth now.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You can.’

‘No.’

‘You have to,’ Ella said, then was struck by a thought. ‘He was bleeding, wasn’t he?’

Freya looked startled.

‘We have his DNA, and we can start going back through your life,’ Ella said. ‘We can go to the papers. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, but we can steer it that way if we have to.’

‘That’s not fair,’ Freya said.

‘Tell that to a family whose seventeen-year-old son never came home from a night out.’

Freya curled up into a ball and put her head on her knees. ‘What will happen to him if I give you his name?’

‘You were sixteen. That’s over the age of consent.’

‘But.’

‘But what?’

‘He was a teacher.’

‘Then that’s different,’ Murray said. ‘He could get eight years.’

‘But I honestly don’t think he knows any more about it than I do. What if we do all this and tell the truth and you get nothing out of it?’

‘That’s the risk you have to take,’ Ella said. ‘Look, we don’t know what he knows till we talk to him. Somebody who saw you two said that another car came soon after, and a man got out and picked something up. We think this might have been the killer, and he’d left something behind and had to come back to get it.’

‘Like what?’

‘That’s what we need to find out.’

‘But I didn’t see anything,’ Freya said. ‘Just grass and sticks and leaves. I don’t think D– he saw anything either.’

D.
‘We need to ask him ourselves,’ Ella said. ‘And we can show both of you scene photos and you might realise then that something is missing.’

‘I don’t want to see them.’

‘It might be necessary.’

Tears ran down Freya’s face. ‘Oh God.’

‘Tell me.’

She closed her eyes.

‘Tell me, Freya.’

She whispered, ‘Dion Entemann.’

Ella knew the name, and in a moment had placed him. ‘The principal of Macquarie Secondary College?’

Freya nodded.

‘What was his position when you were there?’

‘He wasn’t with the school then, he taught an after-school drama group. He didn’t push me into anything. I persuaded him.’ She pressed her hands onto her knees. ‘What will happen now?’

‘We’ll go and speak to him,’ Ella said. ‘Our top priority is the murder. The rest we’ll discuss later.’

‘Even if we don’t know anything, we still helped, right? That still counts?’

‘Here’s my card. We’ll be in touch. If you need me before then, just call.’

Freya accepted the card. ‘I’m sorry. Tell them I’m sorry.’

Ella and Murray headed out of the room. In the hallway she saw movement from the corner of her eye. James stood there, his face pale. She turned to the door and followed Murray out, and before she closed it heard James say, ‘Freya, honey, it’s okay.’

Ella kept the car at a high idle while Murray fetched the scene photos from the Unsolved office, then dropped it into gear the second he was back in the passenger seat.