Cold Justice (40 page)

Callum . . .

But there was nothing she could do. She let out her held breath and walked on.

Alistair’s family were in the meeting room and as she turned the corner Callum straightened in the open doorway. A second later Tamara, John and Genevieve crowded out. There was no sign of the lawyer.

‘Is Dad okay?’ Callum asked.

‘He’s not feeling too great, and I’ll take you to him in a moment,’ she said.

‘Now would be best.’ His tone was sharp.

‘I understand your concern but I need to speak to all of you first.’ She shepherded them back into the room and asked them to sit. Callum stayed on his feet by the door but the others sat down, pale and tired-looking, anxiety coming off them like smoke from low fires.

Ella said, ‘I’m very sorry to have to tell you that Alistair has confessed to Tim’s murder.’

Tamara gasped. John looked stunned. Genevieve shook her head, back and forth, back and forth. Callum grasped the doorframe with a white hand, his mouth open in shock.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ella said.

Tamara burst into great wrenching sobs. Genevieve wailed, ‘No! No!’ John seemed paralysed.

‘You made him say it.’ Callum’s eyes blazed at Ella. ‘If the solicitor had stayed this wouldn’t have happened.’

‘You were there; you heard your father ask her to leave.’

‘You orchestrated all of it.’ But his voice wavered.

She shook her head. ‘Come and see him.’

John and Tamara were holding each other and crying, and Genevieve sobbed into her hands.

Ella touched Callum’s arm. ‘Come and talk to him.’

In the corridor she pulled the door quietly closed. Callum’s hands hung empty by his sides and he stared inwards. She laid her hand on his shoulder and was about to ask if he was okay but the question was stupid and pointless.

‘Did he really do it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘He was abusing Tim and Tim was going to tell.’

Callum put a hand over his eyes.

‘I need to ask,’ she said. ‘Did he ever touch you?’

‘No.’

‘You’re sure?’

He looked at her.

‘I’m sorry.’

He turned down the corridor, then faced her again. ‘He really did it?’

She knew it was rhetorical and that he was asking in order to grasp the fact.

‘He really did it,’ he said and started to cry.

She slid her hand down his arm and inside the crook of his elbow, and they stood like that for a minute, then walked together down the corridor to the interview room.

SEVENTEEN

T
he next morning Matt swung Georgie’s hand as they walked across the bridge in the early sunlight. ‘You are one tough cookie,’ he said.

‘There’s nothing to fear any more,’ she replied. ‘And what’s a few bruises?’

‘Reckon Freya will be there?’

‘I don’t know. She might still be sick.’

He kissed her at the top of the steps. ‘Sure you don’t want me to walk you down?’

‘I’m fine. You get going or you’ll be late.’ She grabbed him and kissed him hard, then let him go. ‘See you tonight.’

The station roller doors were up and she walked in to find Freya leaning against Thirty-three.

‘Hi,’ Georgie said.

‘Hi.’ Freya smiled. ‘I just got off the phone to Stronach. I told her everything. And I mean everything.’

‘Oh. Thanks.’

‘She’s coming over to see you, but she said in the meantime you can stand down if you want. If you don’t want to work with me any more, I mean.’

‘Oh.’

‘It sounds like your assessment’s going to be scratched. Now that Oakes has proved himself a complete and total loony.’

‘Great,’ Georgie said. ‘And what’s happening with you?’

Freya looked out the doorway. ‘I have to make a formal statement about how we found Tim’s body.’

‘What?’

‘Didn’t the detective tell you?’

‘No,’ Georgie said. ‘I thought you just slept with him.’

Freya told her what had happened.

‘Oh my God,’ Georgie said. ‘I can’t believe you did that and then hid it for all these years.’

Freya flushed. ‘I was young and stupid, and then as time went by it felt harder and harder to admit. I know how silly that sounds now, and I know I’m going to have to pay. James got online and thinks I could be charged. He’s finding a lawyer.’

The station phone rang and she went to answer it while Georgie tried to absorb the information. She’d been shocked to see on the news that morning that Tim’s uncle was his killer, and it made her head spin now to learn that Freya had both been so close to Tim and found his body, and had known all about it when she’d hugged Georgie that next day at school.

She pressed her hands against the ambulance. The fibreglass was cool and smooth, the truck reassuring in its solidity. She let her eyes follow the striping along the side and started to understand why Freya had cut off communication when she left, why she’d looked at her with dismay that first day here.

Freya came out of the office rolling her eyes. ‘Hilary’s pissed herself but is claiming she’s in labour with waters broken.’

Georgie took a deep breath then let it out. ‘Let’s go.’

‘You don’t want to stand down? You still want to work with me?’

‘Why not?’ Georgie said. ‘All you really did was make a mistake, right?’

Freya smiled and handed her the keys. ‘Your turn to drive, I believe.’

They got in the ambulance and Freya picked up the mike. ‘Thirty-three is on the case, both officers on board.’

‘Thanks, Thirty-three, and good morning.’

Georgie smiled across at her friend then drove out of the station into the sunlight.

It was all over the papers. The opposition was practically dancing in the streets about new MP Callum McLennan’s father being a murderer. Ella read the articles twice over and sighed.

Her mobile rang. She looked at the screen and let it go to voicemail like she’d done when Wayne had rung the first time, and when her parents had called. They were no doubt ringing to congratulate her but she didn’t feel like hearing their pride or their questions about why she hadn’t told them at dinner last night.

Murray came in. ‘High five!’

She smiled but didn’t hold her hand up, and he dropped into his chair.

‘I just heard Galea talking on the radio about the success of the unit, how we dedicated officers hate to let the unsolved cases lie, how the –’

‘Past haunts the present,’ Ella finished. ‘I heard him too.’

‘We dealt out the justice.’ Murray clenched his fists in glee. ‘Are we shit-hot or what?’

Ella looked at the grainy newspaper photograph of Callum pushing through a mob of journalists outside Parliament House, and thought how haunted he appeared.

‘Do you ever feel like sometimes even though we win, we lose?’ she said.

‘Huh?’

She shook her head. ‘Never mind.’

Also by Katherine Howell

Frantic

The Darkest Hour

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book came at a difficult time in my life, and for help, care and support beyond the call of duty I owe thanks to my agent Selwa Anthony; publisher Cate Paterson; editors Kylie Mason and Mary Verney; publicist Jane Novak; my friends from the job, Mel and Brian Johnson, Garry ‘Syd’ Francis, Steve and Jenni Flanagan, Justine Wilson, Col Benstead, Alan Smith, John Wood and Warren Leo; Simonne Michelle-Wells; Cynthia Currin, Libby Thompson and Kellie Gordon; Leah Giarratano; Karen Davis; the SF-sassy and Mphil groups, especially Michelle Dicinoski and Edwina Shaw; and my family – Guys, Crowes, Willises and Tenorios – with an extra thank you to my brother Phil for the title.

For technical advice, thanks to Adam Asplin, Esther McKay, Liz Dabbs, and Penny Sharpe, MLC.

Thanks to Sisters in Crime, and to Faye McCrow, winner of the Davitt award-night lucky door prize.

Special thanks to Benette, who read the manuscript along the way, held my hand through the toughest time when I feared I wouldn’t make it, and never lost faith, even for a second. It’s all for you.

First published 2011 by Pan Books

This electronic edition published 2011 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-1-4472-0377-3 EPUB

Copyright © Katherine Howell, 2010

The right of Katherine Howell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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