Cold Justice (38 page)

‘What was the medication for?’

‘I don’t really have time –’

‘Just quickly.’

‘Josh was apparently having dizzy spells.’

‘Apparently?’

‘Dad said Josh confided in him about them. Nobody else knew.’

‘No one ever saw it happening? Not you, not your aunt?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Ella, I really have to go.’

Ella dialled Murray’s mobile with trembling fingers.

‘Shakespeare.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Just reached the office.’

‘Look up what car Alistair McLennan had in 1990.’

The click of the keyboard. ‘Grey Ford Falcon.’

‘Isn’t that what Paul Kingsley saw at the scene?’ she said. ‘What was McLennan’s alibi again?’

Murray shuffled papers. ‘Kingsley described a darkish Falcon, maybe grey. McLennan said that he was with a dying patient in Berowra.’

‘Close to Hornsby where Tim went missing.’

‘The patient’s husband stated he was there from eleven twenty pm until one am, and the woman died at midnight.’

‘Why would he stay for an hour after a death?’ Ella said. Her heart was pounding.

‘Beats me.’

‘Reckon that guy is still alive?’

The click of keys again. ‘Computer says yes. Aged eighty-three and living in a retirement home in Westmead.’

‘Do me a favour and go have a word?’

‘Tell me why we’re suspecting Alistair first.’

She told him about the medication. ‘You met him – he hardly seems the forgetful type.’

‘You think it was deliberate?’

‘I think Josh knows more than he realises and Alistair is afraid of that getting out,’ she said.

‘I don’t follow.’

‘What if the episode Tim told Damien about, which we all interpreted as some kind of gay experimentation, was actually abuse?’

‘By Alistair?’

‘What if Tim thought Josh was going to be targeted next? And decided he had to tell? Remember the stories from the barbecue, that Tim had wanted to talk to his father? What if Alistair realised that?

Murray was silent.

‘What if he saw him later, drunk on the street in Hornsby, and picked him up?’ Ella said. ‘And what if the thing Paul Kingsley saw him come back to get was a stethoscope with his name engraved on it like the one he wears now?’

‘Hmm,’ Murray said.

‘If Alistair is an abuser, he wouldn’t have done it just once,’ she said. ‘We need to check his patient records, talk to his young patients.’ She thought of the boy he’d mentioned who he ‘just knew’ was gay. Then she thought of Callum. ‘Oh man.’

‘What?’

‘Callum.’

‘You’re going to ask if his father ever abused him?’

‘He told me once that he and Tim looked very much alike as teenagers,’ she said.

‘Listen,’ Murray said, ‘let me talk to this old man first. Let’s see where we stand with that.’

They hung up. Her skin tingling, Ella checked for traffic and did a speedy U-turn. Callum was going to see his father – she would just happen to drop by too.

At the surgery, she parked in the driveway. The door was locked, the vertical blinds drawn. It was after nine.

‘Hi.’

She turned to see Callum come from around the back of the building.

‘Is he here?’ she asked.

‘I can’t get an answer, and the back’s all locked up too.’ The bruise on his jaw stood out, dark purple. ‘Usually he’s here till nine thirty doing paperwork, then heads out on his house calls.’

‘Where’s your mother?’

‘Morning off. She’d be shopping.’

Ella tried to see through a gap in the blinds.

‘His car’s still round there. Maybe he’s gone for a walk.’ Callum took out his mobile.

Ella heard a faint ringing. ‘You hear that?’

Callum pressed his ear to the glass. ‘It’s inside.’ He ended his call and the noise stopped. ‘Why would –’ He suddenly pounded on the glass with his fist. ‘Dad!’

No response.

Callum leapt into the garden bed and seized a rock. He hurled it through the sliding door. The glass shattered into little cubes and he pushed his way through the blinds, Ella close behind.

Alistair lay on his office floor, his sleeve pulled up high and a needle and syringe by his side. He was unconscious and purple.

‘Oh shit, Dad. Dad!’

‘Tell me what I can do,’ Ella said.

‘Call an ambulance. Tell them it’s a cardiac arrest. No, wait.’ He had his fingers pressed hard to Alistair’s throat. ‘He’s brady-cardic. Close to arrest.’

Ella got on the phone and repeated the information to the ambulance calltaker.

‘Morphine overdose,’ Callum said.

She relayed that too, and the address, then got on her knees next to Alistair. ‘Tell me.’

‘Grab that box on the wall with the bag thing in it. And that unopened box on his desk labelled drugs.’

Also on the desk was a folded handwritten note. She brought it back too and put it on the floor.

‘Press the mask onto his face and breathe for him.’

She tilted his head back like they’d learnt in CPR class and squeezed the bag with her other hand. ‘Like this?’

‘Good.’

Callum did a few compressions, then ripped into the box of drugs. Ella could see the slow pulse in Alistair’s throat. His colour had improved already.

Callum stuck a needle in Alistair’s arm and injected something. She squeezed the bag again then unfolded the note.

‘Read it out,’ he said.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Do it.’

‘
I am sorry
,’ she read aloud as she squeezed the bag. ‘
I’m too old for this now. My patients know I can’t look after them like I used to, and finally I have realised it too. The last straw was the medication for Josh. The dose was wrong, I realise that now, and the thought that I almost killed my nephew weighs so heavily on my mind
.’

She stopped. This wasn’t the note she’d expected.

‘That’s it?’

‘No.’ She gathered her thoughts and squeezed the bag and read on. ‘
I can’t live without this work. I am sorry
.’ She looked up. ‘That’s all.’

Callum blinked back tears as he injected something else. ‘That’s a stupid reason to want to kill yourself.’

Ella focused on Alistair’s throat. His pulse was faster. His colour was less purple and more pink. He took a breath by himself. He might not have confessed but she felt sure.
Come on back, you bastard.

‘I knew he was starting to lose it,’ Callum said. ‘I tried to help him but he can be so stubborn. I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve seen this coming.’

‘It truly isn’t your fault,’ Ella said.

Alistair was breathing better and better. Callum watched for a minute. ‘Okay, you can take the mask off. Keep it handy though, in case we need it again.’

Ella stayed on her knees looking down into Alistair’s face.
Open your eyes, weasel.

‘Where’s the ambulance?’ Callum rubbed his knuckles down his father’s sternum. ‘Dad!’

Alistair groaned.

That’s right
, Ella thought.
Welcome back to the land of the living. The land of justice, no matter how cold.

‘Dad! Open your eyes!’ Callum rubbed his father’s sternum again and Alistair’s eyes shot open.

Ella smiled into them. ‘Hello.’

He started to retch.

‘Quick, help me roll him on his side.’ Callum grabbed Alistair’s shoulder and hip and heaved him over.

Ella stayed close by, getting down low so she could look into Alistair’s eyes. ‘Lucky we came by when we did.’

Alistair turned his face into the floor.

‘It’s okay, Dad.’ Callum rubbed his arm. ‘It’s all going to be okay.’

She watched Callum look after his dad until the ambulance arrived. Alistair was still groggy – or pretending to be – and didn’t look her way once, moaning and groaning in Callum’s arms. The paramedics treated him then loaded him into the ambulance, and she stood with Callum on the steps to watch them drive off. ‘So he’ll be okay?’ she asked.

‘Should be,’ he said. ‘I’d better ring Mum.’

While he made his call she made one of her own. ‘Alistair just tried to kill himself.’

‘You’re kidding,’ Murray said.

‘Callum saved him,’ she said. ‘He’d written a note moaning about work and how he’d made a mistake with Josh and how bad he felt, but didn’t look at all happy to see me. How’s it going there?’

‘Young Robert is fit and well and remembers the night perfectly. Says he was given something to help him calm down and he was asleep when the good doctor left.’

‘So he doesn’t know when it was.’

‘Exactly,’ Murray said. ‘He told me that when the detectives spoke to him, on the Monday, he was so deep in his grief he could hardly talk let alone think straight. They said they’d come back later but never did.’

Ella nodded. It happened, like with Chris Patrick. Things, facts, people fell through the tiny cracks, and it was only later you realised their significance.

‘I’m about to take a formal statement then I’ll research more about abuser profiles. Have you found out anything from Callum?’

‘Not yet.’ She heard Callum crunching towards her over the glass and said to Murray, ‘I’ll see you back at the office.’

When she’d hung up, Callum said, ‘I never asked you why you are here. Did you find out something new?’

She felt sympathy stir in her stomach. There was no way around this, though. ‘Let’s go inside and sit down.’

She started as gently as she could, talking about Josh’s fairy princess and how that led them to Freya and then Dion, and what Kingsley had said, until Callum put up his hand.

‘What are you trying to say?’

She blew air between her teeth. ‘I suspect your father.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re wrong. He was working that night, looking after a dying patient.’

‘The timing of that is in doubt.’

‘It can’t be.’

‘Murray is interviewing the husband right now.’

‘He’s old, surely. He couldn’t possibly remember.’

‘He does,’ she said. ‘Look, it’s not just that.’

‘I don’t want to hear.’

‘Callum, let me explain.’

‘No. I want you out of here. I can’t believe I trusted you to do a decent job and now you accuse him. He wouldn’t hurt a soul.’

‘There’s Josh’s medication –’

‘Out.’ He pointed to the door.

‘We need to talk to him.’ She laid one of her cards on the reception desk. ‘Bring him when he’s out of hospital. If I’m wrong, then show me.’

Callum said nothing.

She walked across the shattered glass and looked back at him from the doorway. His eyes were wet and the bruise on his jaw was dark against the pallor of his face. She felt bad and wanted to say she was sorry, but instead said again, ‘Bring him in.’

SIXTEEN

A
t three that afternoon, Ella finished reading another article on the psychological profile of sexual abusers and slapped it back on the pile.

‘Did Callum call?’ Murray said.

She shook her head. She’d rung his mobile four times. ‘I guess they’re not coming in today.’

He stretched in his chair. ‘Want coffee?’

‘Thanks.’

Though she’d known she couldn’t expect Callum to bring Alistair in this afternoon, and had to admit there was a strong chance they’d take legal advice and not come in at all, she’d been so fired up. She and Murray had talked with Galea, reviewed the evidence and planned interview strategies. She’d managed not to think too much about how Callum must be feeling and worked hard to ignore the realisation that she’d come to see him almost as a friend.

Tomorrow
, she told herself.
Tomorrow
. She would just have to not think about Callum. If she could.

She put her elbows on her desk and her face in her hands.

Murray brought in the coffee then the lift dinged. He elbowed her. ‘They’re here.’

Ella jumped to her feet, her heart thumping.

Down the corridor they came. Callum met her gaze with a hard stare as he and Genevieve helped along a pale and weepy Alistair who looked to have aged fifteen years since that morning. Tamara glared with the old anger. Behind them came John, red-faced and indignant, and a tall woman in a pink pantsuit carrying a black leather briefcase.

Callum said, ‘This is our solicitor, Julia Armstrong.’

‘Officer.’ Armstrong put out her hand, fingers glinting with gold rings.

‘Detective, actually.’

Murray stepped forward to shake her hand as well.

‘I have one condition regarding this interview,’ Armstrong said. ‘Since Dr McLennan has come in voluntarily, and so soon after a serious health crisis, I require that his son remain in the interview room as medical support.’

Murray started to shake his head but Ella saw a simultaneously bright and dark avenue open up before them. ‘That will be fine.’

While Murray showed the rest of the family where they could wait, Ella took Callum and Alistair and the solicitor into an interview room. ‘How’s Josh?’

‘They’ve admitted him for twenty-four hours but he should be fine.’ Callum didn’t look at her as he helped his father shuffle around the table.

‘I’m glad.’ She watched Alistair sink down onto the chair, the very image of a doddering old man. His eyes were red and wet and his hands shook as he folded them in his lap. In the bright fluorescent light his almost-white hair looked thin, the scalp underneath fragile.

Armstrong sat on the left and laid a new legal notepad and pen on the table. Callum repositioned his chair to sit closely on the right, as if worried his father might slump into a faint at any second.

Ella took the chair directly opposite Alistair and went over her questions in her mind. She scanned the ways she could exploit Callum’s presence, pushed away the shiver of regret at using him, and made herself calm.

Murray started the tape recorder and listed the names of those present. He asked Alistair to state his name, date of birth and address. Alistair croaked out the words like they were the last ones he’d ever be able to say.

Ella said, ‘How are you feeling?’

Alistair didn’t speak. His head drooped a little lower.

‘Can we get you a cup of tea or coffee?’ Ella said. ‘Dr McLennan?’