Dastardly Deeds (16 page)

‘Sure, with me.’ He looked at me earnestly. ‘But mostly with Scott. Because, of course, I wasn’t interested.’

I swallowed a grin. ‘Okay. So was she ever, well, romantically involved with any of you?’

‘Why?’

‘Ah, just curiosity.’ I gave a brittle laugh. ‘People fascinate me. That’s why I became a columnist.’ This was absolutely untrue. One of the reasons that being a columnist suited me was the
lack
of people contact.

He was nodding. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. You seem like a people person. Well, in answer to your question, nah, April generally went for the dickheads. Besides, I was the only single bloke at uni. Scott was too wrapped up in Anna.’

I had forgotten about that. I sipped my wine, thinking. ‘Deb said he was devastated when she died.’

‘Sure was. They’d been broken up for months by then but the thing is, I think he thought there was a chance they’d get back together. I thought so too. They were getting on pretty well that night.’

‘What night?’

‘The night she died.’ He caught my puzzled expression. ‘We’d caught up for drinks that night. She died on her way home.’

‘Deb didn’t mention that,’ I said slowly.

He shrugged, as if it was incidental. ‘We had a good time. Hadn’t seen each other for a while.’ He stared out across the bay. ‘Anna was on top of the world.’

‘What a tragedy,’ I said ineffectually. ‘A car accident, wasn’t it?’

‘Sort of.’ Donald paused as the waiter reappeared to take our empty plates. He ordered another two glasses of wine and then beamed at me. ‘No rush, hey? Now, let’s talk about you. How’s the writing going? What’s the subject now?’

‘Crime,’ I said offhandedly, focusing on the job at hand. ‘So, what do you mean by “sort of”?’

His eyebrows shot together to form a V-shaped caterpillar. ‘Have you ever thought that your curiosity might be a trifle insensitive?’

‘I am sorry. It must be the wine.’ I gestured towards my empty glass. I would have batted my eyelashes if I had not known, from experience, that this made me look like I had an acquired brain injury. ‘I’m a bit of a one-pot screamer. And her story is just
so
sad. I’m afraid I have rather a macabre fascination with tragedy. I’m not sure why. I do apologise.’

‘Oh, that’s fine.’ He looked at me fondly. ‘I don’t mind. I said “sort of” because it was a hit-and-run. That is, she wasn’t in a car. She was at a taxi rank.’

I stared at him. ‘A taxi rank?’

‘Yeah. Scott had wanted to give her a lift home but she said no. Maybe she thought he’d take it the wrong way. Anyway, we said goodbye outside the pub and she headed up to the taxi rank. Didn’t even hear about what happened until the next morning.’

I was still trying to absorb this. Anna had been killed in a hit-and-run. Anna had been murdered.

‘The bastard didn’t even stop. Just sideswiped her and then left her there.’

‘Did they … catch him?’

He shook his head. ‘Nope. They reckon it was some drunk coming home.’

Our fresh glasses of wine arrived. I picked mine up and took a swig. I felt gobsmacked, but electrified with certainty. Anna had not been killed by some drunk coming home. She had been killed by someone she knew very well. The same person who, twenty-three years later, had killed her friend April. Who had then murdered Kim Satchwell only days after that.

‘Back in a minute,’ said Donald, getting to his feet. ‘Bathroom break calls. And then let’s talk about you. I want to know who Nell Forrest is.’

I didn’t think that Kim had been mistaken for me. That scenario made no sense against this new information. No, the killer was a man who did not take rejection well. His crimes were opportunistic, but fuelled by an intense sense of entitlement that usually hid its face behind a jovial bonhomie. Anna had rejected him not once but twice, and he had run her down in a fit of rage. April had also knocked him back, after flirting with him all evening and possibly even inviting him back to her room. Being pushed from her balcony was the price she paid. And then came Kim. I suspected that she, too, had engaged in some enthusiastic flirtation and had then withdrawn consent. Possibly because of a lack of suitable venues for consummation. I knew the feeling. The following day, he had seen her wander down the path and followed her, no doubt expecting to pick up where they had left off, but had been rebuffed. Even worse, she had turned her back. That had been a mistake.

I had never been a target because there had simply never been anything going on between us, not even a hint. I was clearly not his type. Maybe it was the hair. But he had murdered three women and each time had casually gone on with his life. He had even bought himself sunglasses in Istanbul with the ten lira note taken from Kim’s purse. Calm, collected and narcissistic. All the hallmarks of a psychopath.

I took another sip of wine. I could see Donald coming down the steps from the bathroom. I sighed. I probably wouldn’t have been in the mood to continue our conversation regardless, but with this knowledge buzzing at my temples, I was even less inclined. He paused at the bottom of the steps and then suddenly swung his head around towards the balustrade by the entrance, as if someone had called out to him. Someone had. It was Scott.

My stomach clenched. He didn’t look anything like a murderer. There was nothing remarkable about him at all. With his striped polo shirt and baggy shorts, he was the cliché of a daggy tourist. Phoebe stood next to him, gazing across at me curiously. I gave her a weak smile. She didn’t reciprocate. It occurred to me that she had probably expected Donald to join them, not enjoy an assignation with me. But that was a minor concern at the moment. Just as I had started to worry that they would be coming over to join us and I would be sitting with a serial killer, Scott waved cheerily at me and they moved away.

I stood quickly. It was time to let Donald down gently. I had to find someone – Petra, Ashley, Deb – and share what I knew. It seemed almost bizarre, in this beautiful part of the world, with its whitewashed buildings and sapphire sea. Killers did not belong here, even those in Bermuda shorts. But the information now fizzed along my vocal cords. It demanded release. And his three victims demanded justice.

‘I am going to
kill
you.’

I shaded my eyes as I gazed up at Petra. Her word choice was a little unfortunate, given the circumstances. ‘I did look for you. Everywhere.’

‘You can’t have looked that bloody hard. I’m getting a drink.’

I watched her stalk off towards the bar. Nobody stalked quite like my sister. I
had
actually looked for her everywhere. After I parted company with Donald, I had done the rounds of the township over and over, keen to share my revelations. I stumbled across Enid six times and Donald twice, but my own relatives had remained elusive. Apart from Darcy, if he could be still counted as a relative. I ran into him and Tessa outside the chairlift station and had to endure an awkward conversation in which Tessa wouldn’t meet my eyes and Darcy clearly thought I’d said something to upset her. They did me a favour, though, because I was already having second thoughts about the chairlift, even when the only other option was the donkey. But I went through with it just for a speedy escape. It was an eyes-tight-shut trip to the shore, lurching over the towers as the cable car skimmed down the cliff.

The ship had been fairly deserted, with most people still enjoying the sights of the island. I ran into Enid again, but she made it clear that my company was not necessary. She was heading back to the casino. I spent an hour or so in my cabin putting together a perfunctory paragraph about Istanbul, minus the Gallipoli component, but eventually left a note for Petra and settled myself with my laptop on the upper deck. I hadn’t written much but, with my non-alcoholic cocktail and an expression of intense concentration, I thought I looked rather good.

‘I see you managed to get yourself a new hat while you were looking,’ said Petra as she slid herself onto the U-shaped bench opposite me. ‘Good on you.’

I decided to go on the offensive. ‘Yes, because that bloody donkey ate mine. After it tried to kill me. Where the hell
were
you? I wasted the entire day looking!’

‘Even during your leisurely lunch with Donald?’ She lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s right, we ran into Scott and Phoebe. Didn’t sound like you were too worried.’

‘Actually, I didn’t enjoy myself at all,’ I said, affronted. ‘I just thought maybe I should stay still, so you’d have a chance of finding me. Where are the girls?’

Petra took a sip of her wine. ‘Skyping down in their cabin. They’ll be up later. And can I just say that your youngest daughter has been a pain in the butt today. She whinged all morning about her shirt until I bought her another one, then she whinged about not being able to find you, and about Griffin not skyping her last night, and that she was tired. Probably from all that whingeing. There’s a reason I didn’t have kids.’

‘Sorry. How much do I owe you?’

‘At one hundred dollars an hour, I’d say about eight hundred.’

‘I meant for the shirt.’

She shrugged, took another sip of wine and then stared huffily over my shoulder. ‘Does it occur to you that I might have been a little concerned? Having just discovered last night that someone might be trying to kill you, and then you disappearing from the face of the earth?’

I hadn’t thought of that. ‘Sorry. It wasn’t on purpose. But listen—’ I leant forward ‘—you’ll never guess what I discovered.’

‘That avoiding your family gives you a day off?’

‘No.’ I paused for effect. ‘The name of the killer.’

Petra raised an eyebrow but before she could respond, Enid appeared by her elbow with a glass of champagne. She was wearing her muumuu again. She looked at Petra expectantly until she rose, allowing Enid to manoeuvre herself to the far side of the bench.

‘I’m being sociable,’ said Enid, before adding quickly, ‘for a while.’

I smiled politely. ‘Lovely. Ah, how are you?’

‘Same as when I saw you before. Except one hundred dollars poorer.’

‘You lost then?’

‘No, I gave it away to a passing stranger. That’s the sort of woman I am.’

She was clearly not in a good mood. Sociable was probably a stretch at the moment. I was rather pleased to hear the distinctive sound of Lew’s wheelchair approaching, even though it meant I would have to postpone sharing my news with Petra. Deb was just behind him, carrying a tray of drinks. She was beaming.

‘You two should have come with us! It was
amazing
! There’s a whole other town over there.’ She put the tray down and pointed towards the far curve of Santorini. ‘Absolutely spectacular.’

Lew positioned himself at the end of the table and took a glass from the tray. ‘True. And much less touristy.’

‘Well, we had a good day anyway,’ I said.

‘Speak for yourself,’ said Petra. She frowned at his shirt, which was open enough to display a broad and surprisingly hairy chest adorned with a gold chain. ‘Are you trying to channel the European look?’

‘Yep. Gotta go with your best assets.’

‘We’re getting divorced when we get home,’ said Deb complacently. She sat down beside Petra, who ended up squished against Enid. The latter wasn’t budging. ‘And how was your day, Enid?’

‘Peachy.’

I noticed there were still two glasses left on the tray. ‘Where’s Donald and Scott? And Phoebe?’

‘Don’t know and don’t care,’ said Lew. ‘My wife’s spending the day with me today. And afterwards we’re adjourning to our cabin for a spot of hanky-panky.’

‘Dream on,’ said Deb.

Enid looked interested. ‘Now if that was actually
on
the menu, I might do the same.’

‘Want a piece of me, do you?’ asked Lew, giving her an exaggerated leer. ‘Have to warn you, I don’t come cheap.’

She looked him up and down. ‘You’d be paying me, young man, if I was that way inclined. And trust me, it’d be worth it.’

Being a visual person was sometimes a curse. I nodded towards the extra glasses. ‘Who are they for then?’

‘Ash and Nick,’ explained Lew. ‘They just detoured via their cabin on the way here. Ah, speak of the devil!’

I hated the way my stomach tightened whenever his name was mentioned or when he unexpectedly appeared, but I rather liked it as well. He looked a little windblown, and had caught some sun across his cheeks. He grinned at me.

‘Had a good day? Here, scoot over.’

I did that, leaving enough room for them both. ‘Fine, thanks.’

‘Really? Everything okay?’

‘Of course it is. Fine and dandy.’

‘I’m fine too,’ said Petra. ‘Thanks for asking.’

‘Excellent.’ Lew took a deep drink of his beer. He smacked his lips and then turned to Ashley and Nick. ‘So, any news?’

Nick nodded. ‘Blake emailed through the draft. Looks good. Heard from Paul as well. Everything’s on track. Ash spoke to James. He’ll fill you in.’

Ashley proceeded to do just that. Apart from the fact I didn’t know either Blake or Paul, and didn’t care that much for James Sheridan, it seemed talking about golf was just as boring as playing it. Enid must have felt the same because she began to snore gently. Ashley’s thigh was pressed against mine. I felt like a teenager. But the conversation went on and on, and on. At one stage a waiter came over and delivered fresh drinks. Finally I scooted around the bench a little, regretfully leaving Ashley’s thigh behind, and leant over Enid towards Petra and Deb. I spoke in a low voice.

‘I need to talk to you both.’

‘Talk away,’ said Petra, clearly still annoyed.

‘Fine. Deb, can I ask you a rather insensitive question?’

‘Um, I suppose. It’s not about my sex life, is it?’

I blinked. ‘Of course not! Why on earth would I ask about your sex life?’

‘You’d be surprised,’ she said grimly. ‘People often do.’

‘Who’s asking about our sex life?’ asked Lew loudly. ‘Is it you, Nell? Not going to put it in one of your columns, are you? Will you have enough inches?’

‘I’m sure we’ve got more than enough,’ I replied. ‘But I can assure you I am supremely uninterested in your sex life.’

He looked disappointed. ‘Pity. It’d make for a good column. Maybe a serial.’

‘Fifty shades of Lew,’ said Nick, grinning. Ashley laughed.

‘So what was it then?’ asked Deb. ‘The insensitive question?’

Everyone was now looking at me, except Enid. Five minutes ago I had wished fervently for all talk about golf to cease, now I just wanted it to continue. I would have left if not for the fact I was well and truly hemmed in.
Woman spontaneously combusts. Full stop
. ‘Ah, it was actually about April.’

‘Oh, Christ,’ said Ashley. ‘Oh, what the hell. Okay. Fire away.’

I took a sip of wine. When I put it down, everyone was still gazing at me expectantly. In for a penny, in for a pound. ‘Well, it’s like this. I was wondering if there was any chance you thought it might not have been suicide.’

For a moment, everybody’s expressions remained unchanged. Then Lew exchanged a fleeting glance with his wife. Nick just looked confused.

Deb’s face was hard to read. ‘Why would you even ask that?’

‘You already thought of it,’ said Petra slowly. ‘Both of you.’

‘Well, yes. But not for long. Only because she seemed so happy. What I want to know, though, is why this is coming up now?’

‘Because of the other death,’ I replied simply. ‘It just seemed too much of a coincidence. And there were similarities. Both were women, both happened around the same group of people, and both, if they were murder, appeared to be opportunistic.’ I paused to let this sink in. Deb and Lew were watching me intently. ‘It never occurred to me until after Kim Satchwell died, when—’

‘Hang on,’ interrupted Deb, putting up a hand. ‘Kim
Satchwell
? The woman who died at Gallipoli? What’s she got to do with anything?’

I stared at her for a moment. ‘Ah, I see. You thought I meant Anna. That
she
was the one with similarities to April.’

‘Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?’ asked Nick, a little piteously. ‘Who’s Anna?’

‘Good question.’ Ashley was looking at me. ‘Who
is
Anna?’

‘She was a university friend as well,’ I explained, keeping my gaze on Deb. ‘Shared accommodation with them. She and Scott were an item but she broke it off just after graduation. About six months later they all caught up one evening. There were some indications that she and Scott would get back together but when he offered her a lift home, she said no. Went to catch a taxi instead. Am I right so far?’

‘More or less,’ said Deb in a low voice.

‘She was killed in a hit-and-run at the taxi stand. The driver was never caught.’

‘Christ,’ said Nick. ‘I
hate
hit-and-runs. Fucking cowards. Excuse the French.’

Ashley was still looking at me. ‘And when exactly did you find all this out?’

‘Today. I had lunch with Donald at Santorini.’

‘I see.’

‘Hold your horses.’ Lew was frowning. ‘We can discuss Anna in a minute, but what d’you mean about Kim Satchwell? What the hell does her death have to do with anything?’

‘So Anna was murdered too!’ exclaimed Petra, coming in a little late.

‘Stop. Let me think.’ Ashley drummed his fingers on the table for a minute. ‘I’ll get to you later,’ he said to me before turning to Deb. ‘When Nell said there were similarities before, you
did
think she was talking about between Anna and April. In other words, you already thought there was a chance the same person who ran down Anna also killed April in Rome. When did you start thinking that way? After Anna died, or only when it happened again?’

Deb shook her head, refusing to answer. She looked ill.

‘Both,’ said Lew. He reached over to grab his wife’s hand. ‘It occurred to her after Anna died, but only briefly. She felt guilty for even thinking it. But then after April, naturally there were … misgivings. Nothing concrete though. Easily dismissed. Now, tell me why you think this has anything to do with that Kim.’

‘We know she was murdered by someone in our group,’ said Petra. She put her hand on Deb’s other arm. ‘Actually, most probably someone in
your
group.’

‘How?’ asked Deb hoarsely.

‘Kim Satchwell had a ten lira note with a name and phone number on it. Her money was stolen when she was killed. Nell got the same note in change from that sunglasses seller in Istanbul, just after everybody else had bought some.’

Nobody spoke. The only sound was Enid’s rhythmic snoring. Lew drained his glass and looked around for the waiter. He arrived quickly, taking orders. I saw Ruby and Quinn exit the foyer on the pool deck. Both were wearing bathers and they had towels draped over their shoulders. Ruby walked with the easy confidence of a woman in her mid-twenties while Quinn scuttled nervously, tugging at her towel to cover her breasts. They disappeared in the direction of the spa section. I shuffled back around the bench until I was sitting beside Ashley once more. He dropped his left hand and rested it gently on my thigh. It felt hot.

‘Are you sure?’ asked Deb.

Ashley answered first. ‘Positive. And there’s something else. It’s possible that Kim’s death may have been a case of mistaken identity. Nell was wearing almost exactly the same outfit that day, including the same colour hat.’

Deb transferred her gaze to me. ‘No.’

‘I’m not convinced,’ I said. ‘Because why would someone want to kill me?’

‘An ex-babysitter?’ suggested Petra.

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes she was like a dog with a bone.

Fresh drinks arrived and conversation ceased while the waiter cleared the empty glasses.

‘Why haven’t you taken this to the police?’ asked Lew brusquely.

‘It’s all supposition,’ replied Petra. ‘And also, we didn’t want to be hauled into a Turkish police station for questioning. But with this information about Anna …’

Lew squeezed his wife’s hand. They gazed at each other for a few moments, as if having a private conversation. When he finally spoke out loud, it was still to her. ‘Well, this is a bugger.’