Dastardly Deeds (22 page)

A plump policeman with an impressively patrician nose had just finished getting a signature on my statement when Ruby poked her head around the door. She waited until he left the room, and then hurried over to the bed to lay her head against my shoulder. Quinn followed. I patted both of them ineffectually.

‘Mum,’ said Quinn simply. Her voice sounded damp. ‘I’m sorry I was, like, such a bitch.’

‘Oh, Quinn.’ I pulled back so that I could see her face. ‘This wasn’t anything to do with you. It wasn’t your fault.’

‘I know
that
. But the last thing I said to you was that I’d rather be with my friends. I didn’t want you to die like that.’

‘I didn’t want you to die at
all
,’ said Ruby loyally.

‘Me either,’ I said. ‘And I didn’t.’

Ruby hugged me, holding on a little longer than was comfortable. Then she kissed me on the cheek and pulled the chair closer before flopping down. ‘Could you not do that again? I’m seriously not ready to be a half-orphan.’

I thought of the long night just gone. ‘I have no intention of doing that again.’

‘Good. Love your voice, by the way.’ She put one foot up on the side of the bed. ‘They said that woman pushed you and Tessa off the ship and then jumped herself. And that she also killed that woman at Gallipoli. Is that right?’

‘Not quite.’ I glanced up as Petra slipped into the room. She came over to stand by my bed, her hands folded before her. She looked like she was at a funeral.

‘Took ages to find your room,’ she said. ‘You’re tucked away in a corner.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You gave me quite a fright.’

‘Yes, I got your email. But I’m not going to apologise, seeing as it wasn’t my fault.’

‘Fair enough.’ She examined me. ‘Cute outfit. Love the way it slips off the shoulder.’

I adjusted the hospital gown. ‘No excuse not to look one’s best. What’s the time? Have you heard any news about Tessa?’

‘Ten past five and apparently she’s doing okay. Darcy’s with her now. Lew and Deb too. Your voice matches the outfit. Are you going for the seductive look?’

‘Anyway, what wasn’t quite?’ asked Ruby. ‘You said it wasn’t quite. Didn’t she kill that woman in Gallipoli?’

I shook my head. ‘No, probably not. Plus she didn’t exactly jump off the ship.’ I glanced at Petra. ‘She made Tessa and I climb over the railing but then I wrapped my arms around her too. So when we went, we all went.’

‘Good,’ said Quinn. ‘Whose was the blood?’

‘Tessa’s.’

‘What’s the lump on your head then?’

‘That’s where she punched me.’

‘Bitch.’ She picked up one of my remaining two sandbags and hefted the weight from one hand to another. ‘Hey, these are cool. Can I have one?’

Ruby had pulled out her mobile phone. She stood to take several photos of me, and then leant in so that she could be in one also. I smiled awkwardly. She sat back down, her fingers flying over the keys. ‘Just sending some photos to the guys. Scarlet made me promise.’

‘Oh good.’ I ran my fingers through my hair. ‘What do I look like?’

‘Alive,’ said Petra simply. ‘That’s all they want to see.’

Ruby glanced up from her phone. ‘What I want to know is
why
she wanted to push you and Tessa off. What did you do to her?’

‘Nothing, really. I think she had an obsession about women who she thought got more attention than they deserved. Who flirted with men.’

Quinn snickered. ‘Well, that explains Tessa, but why you?’

‘So she didn’t kill Kim Satchwell?’ asked Petra, frowning. ‘It was a robbery after all? What about the ten lira note?’

‘Clint must have had them printed. Probably cheaper in bulk. Unless Phoebe just didn’t want to admit to that one too.’

‘Scarlet and Lucy said can you ring them soon,’ said Ruby, staring at her phone. ‘Red too. She sent her mobile number.’ She looked up. ‘Don’t you have it?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘What did it feel like when you were falling?’ asked Quinn curiously.

‘Long.’

‘What about when you hit the water? I’d have thought you’d break bones.’

‘Fortunately not.’

The door was pushed open by an older nurse with salt-and-pepper hair. She held it in place as Deb pushed Lew into the room, her eyes zeroing in on me. She left her husband at the foot of the bed and came around to squeeze past Ruby and hug me.

‘I am so, so sorry.’

‘Not your fault.’

‘But she was my friend.’ She pulled back to gaze at me. Her eyes were puffy. ‘I’ve known her for years. I should have known. I should have
guessed
.’

‘No one did,’ said Lew gently. He reached out to pat my foot as he continued speaking to his wife. ‘Not even the police who investigated Anna’s accident. You can’t blame yourself. She was mentally ill. Nell doesn’t blame you.’

‘I certainly don’t. Have you seen Tessa?’

Deb nodded. ‘Darcy’s with her. She’s … all right. She said hello. So did Scott. He flew out from Rome. Don’t think he could face coming here. He’s pretty cut up.’

‘Nick’s gone too,’ added Petra. ‘He sent his best wishes. And Enid, but she’s still in Rome. Said she was too old for minibuses. We deposited her at a hotel before we left and last seen she was asking at reception about this casino in Venice.’

‘Did you see any sharks?’ asked Quinn of me. ‘Or dolphins?’

I shook my head impatiently. If Enid managed to lose herself casino-hopping across Europe, at least I couldn’t be held responsible. She had disappeared on Petra’s watch. I smiled at Lew, keeping my tone deliberately casual. ‘A minibus, hey? Very impressive. So, who else came?’

Lew grinned. ‘Well, let me see. Us, of course, and Darcy. And Donald came along. Plus, let me think … oh, that’s right. Ashley as well.’

The older nurse entered the room pushing a rattling blood pressure monitor. ‘Sorry, but I must ask you all to leave for a few minutes.’

‘I vote we reconvene in the cafeteria,’ suggested Lew. ‘I’m starving.’

This suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm. Within moments I had been hugged again and my visitors were departing. Donald arrived and was able to say a brief hello before being swept out in the tide. The nurse took my vitals, along with some blood, and then loaded my IV onto a mobile stand so that she could help me to the bathroom. My legs felt significantly stronger, but still weak.

‘This can come out soon,’ she said, nodding at the IV as she tucked me back in and positioned the remaining sandbags. ‘You’re doing very well.’

I watched as she packed up her equipment and then left, returning briefly with a cup of tea, a packet of biscuits and strict instructions to rest. The cellophane wrapping on the biscuits proved to be a test of skill that kept me occupied for several minutes. Longer, if you count having to gather up the crumbs that remained. But I was sitting calmly, even a little regally, cup of tea in one hand, when Darcy walked in.

‘I’m only allowed to stay a minute,’ he said, crossing to my bed and kissing me on the cheek. ‘That nurse out there is a bit scary.’

‘How’s Tessa?’

He drew in breath and then exhaled noisily. ‘Doing okay, given the circumstances. You know she lost the baby? I didn’t even know she was pregnant.’

‘I think she was scared to tell you.’

‘Yes.’ He lapsed into silence for a moment. ‘But you both survived. Twelve hours in the middle of the sea. Lucky the water was relatively warm. Mild hypothermia only. And Tessa said you saved her life. You held her hand all night.’

‘That’s hardly heroic. It’s not like I fought off Moby Dick. Was it really twelve hours?’

‘That’s what the newspaper said. A frigging miracle. Thought I’d lost you both.’

‘You were just worried you’d have Quinn moving in.’

‘That did occur to me.’ He grinned. ‘Speaking of Quinn, I’ve booked flights for Tessa and I for tomorrow night. I think Petra and Ruby are flying out around the same time. Anyway, the doctor said Tess’ll be okay to fly by then and she just wants to get home to spend time with Sophie. So Quinn wants to come with us.  She misses her friends. Apparently the Russos are flying out then as well. It’s okay with me if it’s okay with you.’

I suspected she was far more interested in spending time with her tousle-haired beau than getting home. ‘Ah. Well, that’s fine, but I’m not sure what I’m doing yet. Who’s going to keep an eye on her if I’m a day or so later?’

‘She’ll be fine,’ said Darcy airily. ‘Between Scarlet, Lucy and I, we’ll be able to manage. You just look after yourself.’ He gave me another kiss and headed towards the door. ‘Loosen the apron strings a bit, while you’re at it. She’s a good kid. No need to be so overprotective.’

‘Really?’ I felt my eyes narrow. ‘Number one, I’m not. Number two, she asked me the other day how old I was when I lost my virginity.’

Darcy stopped. His face stilled. ‘Yes. Okay. She can stay with me.’

‘Good.’

The door closed behind him and I allowed myself a small smile. It didn’t last long. Everyone had visited me now except Ashley. It didn’t make sense. Neither did my disappointment. It sat in the pit of my stomach alongside the biscuits, and probably at least one sliver of cellophane, congealing nauseously. Even Donald had dropped in. If he could make the time, then where was Ashley? I stared at the door, willing it to open one more time. But it didn’t.

I was walking down the path at Gallipoli once more, but this time I knew in advance that Kim Satchwell would not be there. I climbed the steps and came into the clearing. A small, slatted bench had been installed. Bouquets of flowers were piled at one end, like a memorial: roses and lilies and colourful mixtures of overripe blooms. Phoebe sat at the other end, watching me, her eyes flat.

‘You let me die. You really
are
the worst type of person.’

‘That’s rich, coming from you.
I
never killed anyone.’

‘You killed me,’ she said immediately. ‘I begged to use the lifebuoy for a little while. Just to keep me going. I told you I couldn’t hang on.’

Her clothing clung damply to her body, like a shroud. The cheesecloth portions looked like shredded toilet paper. A puddle of water had formed around her feet. I lifted my gaze to her face. ‘You’re twisting things all around.’

‘Oh? Like my body as I sunk slowly to the sea floor?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Okay, now that’s a touch melodramatic. Seriously.’

‘You killed me. Murderer.’

‘That’s it. I’m not staying here to listen to your crap.’

I tried to roll over but the two remaining sandbags kept me in place. There was someone in my room. I could hear them breathing. I was washed with a wave of dread at the thought that Phoebe had followed me back. But even as the idea formed, it was dismissed. For starters, she wouldn’t have been breathing. It was Ashley. It had to be Ashley.

I opened my eyes to find that it was neither. Instead Donald stood with one hand on my IV, examining it. I processed this surprising turn of events. ‘What are you doing?’

He jerked, the IV tubing swaying against the stand. Something clattered. ‘You’re awake. I thought you’d have been given sedation.’

‘I didn’t want it,’ I said, still staring at him. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Oh, just thought I’d come to say hello.’ He moved away to stand awkwardly beside the foot of my bed. ‘Didn’t get much of a chance earlier.’

I frowned. This made absolutely no sense. I wasn’t even sure why he had made the trip over to Kalamata. Neither Tessa nor I were relatives of his. We were barely friends. Why wouldn’t he have just sent his best wishes and then flown out with Scott?

‘I would never have guessed,’ he said, pleating the edge of my covers. ‘About Phoebe.’

‘Nobody would have,’ I replied. Something felt very off. I moved my fingers under the bedclothes, searching for the nurse call button. Just in case.

‘I never even realised she was so unhappy. Or that she hated … anyone.’

I couldn’t find the call button. I felt along the side of my leg and under my butt.

‘But then maybe—’ he paused, his voice lowering ‘—she hated herself most of all.’

‘Maybe.’ I peered around to the wall, following the cord across to the bedside table. It lay on the other side, out of reach. When I looked back at Donald, he was watching me. My skin prickled. I spoke casually. ‘Can you pass me that call button? I need the nurse to help me to the bathroom.’

He gazed across at the window, but didn’t reply. It looked dark out, probably early evening.

‘Donald?’ I could hear my voice rising croakily. ‘Pass me the call button.’

He shook his head, meeting my eyes for a moment before looking away.

I stared at him. I thought of Kim Satchwell, strolling down the track with her camera, dressed much the same as me. There had been a distinct difference in the way the three women had been killed. Two had been sudden and spontaneous, while the third had been stalked. It had been deliberate. As well, Phoebe had shown a certain delight in the final expressions of her victims while Kim had been killed from behind. As if her killer hadn’t even wanted to make eye contact. Like now.

I took a few deep breaths as I considered the situation. I could try to scream, but with my voice still hoarse, it was more than likely I wouldn’t be heard. Especially with my room tucked away. And I risked galvanising Donald into more direct action. I was not strong enough to put up a fight. My best bet was to make polite conversation, not agitate him, play for time. ‘Why did you do it?’

He blinked at me, and glanced fleetingly at the IV. ‘No choice.’

‘People always have a choice.’

‘Then let’s just say I have a healthy dose of self-preservation.’ He adjusted his glasses and finally let his gaze settle on me. ‘And I’m sorry. Really. I like you.’

‘The feeling is not mutual.’ I loosened my arms beneath the covers but was hampered by the sandbags. ‘I take it you plan to kill me?’

He nodded. ‘Sorry.’

‘Well, in that case, the least you could do is tell me why.’

‘You listened in,’ he replied immediately, accusingly. ‘When I was talking to Greg. You recorded it. You were going to use it in a column.’

I gaped at him. ‘What?’

‘When we got back from Troy. In the stairwell. I saw you recording it.’ His eyebrows twitched. ‘Didn’t you think I’d realise when I saw you with your mobile phone up? Thinking you were so smart with your innuendo afterwards. All that stuff about being careful with my phone calls, and everyone needing a special plan. Then the next day, at lunch, asking me if I had any tips. That you’d keep your ear to the ground and see what turned up.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you think I’m stupid?’

Actually, at the moment I did, but didn’t think that worth mentioning. I knew the occasion he was referring to, which had occurred over a week ago, when he’d been talking on his mobile around the side of the partition on the bottom deck of the ship. But for the life of me, literally, I had little recollection of the actual conversation. I had been focusing on the purple suitcase, and the realisation that Ashley was joining the cruise.

‘When I asked what you were writing about in Santorini, you even said crime! Did you really think you could get away with taunting me like that?’

I spoke slowly. ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. I thought you were talking to a girlfriend who wanted to break up. Who’s Greg?’

His mouth opened and then closed. He shook his head. ‘You’re lying.’

‘Why would I lie?’ I asked reasonably. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow darken the small window set into the door. ‘I’m assuming it makes no difference at this stage. Either I knew whatever it is that you thought I knew, in which case you’ll kill me, or I
didn’t
know but now I do so you’ll have to kill me anyway.’

‘Then …’ He paused, his Adam’s apple juddering as he swallowed. ‘No.’

‘Yes.’

He blinked. ‘You really didn’t know about the embezzlement?’

‘Ah, embezzlement!’ I thought back to the words he had used.
You can’t give up now. You’ll be throwing away everything we’ve got.
It all fell into place. ‘And you work for a building society. I assume Greg is your partner in crime. Was he getting cold feet?’

He flicked a glance towards the IV. ‘Yes.’

‘So Kim really was a case of mistaken identity. And mistaken assumptions. That poor woman. It must have been quite a shock for you to see me afterwards.’

‘Yes,’ he said again. He took off his glasses and polished them with a corner of his shirt. ‘It was, rather.’

‘You took her money to make it look like a robbery, and then used some to pay for Scott’s sunglasses the next day.’ I ignored his puzzled expression. He didn’t know about Clint’s ten lira note and I couldn’t be bothered explaining. ‘And you pretended to like me so that you could stay close.’

‘Oh, no,’ he protested. ‘I really
did
like you. Although usually—’ he glanced up at my head ‘—I do prefer my women a little more … neat.’

I fought the urge to run my fingers through my hair. ‘Did you steal my phone?’

He nodded. ‘I had to destroy the recording.’

‘There
was
no recording! I was taking photos of the bloody suitcase!’ I stared at him but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘Did you also put something in my doorjamb?’

‘The door was open,’ he mumbled. ‘It seemed like the perfect solution.’

‘I suppose you intended to come back later. Maybe push me over the balcony? Or smother me?’ I gazed at him questioningly, but he didn’t reply. ‘You must have thought all your prayers were answered when we went overboard. My death could be blamed on Phoebe and you’d be off the hook.’

‘But you survived,’ he said bitterly, slipping his glasses back on.

‘Sorry about that. So what’s plan B?’

‘Shush. Let me think.’ He rubbed his head ‘Christ, I don’t believe this.’

I knew that silence was the best option but the words bubbled up anyway. ‘You stuffed up big-time. It was all for nothing.’

‘I said shush!’ He glanced at the IV and then mumbled something under his breath, frowning. He took a step across and picked up the tubing. I looked over at the door and the shadow was back. Donald was now sliding the tubing through his fingers as he followed the length gradually along the loops, until finally the clipped end lay in his hand. He stared at it.

‘Were you expecting to find this?’ I asked, pushing the sandbag aside so that I could lift my arm from beneath the covers. The bandage that the nurse had wrapped around the crook of my elbow, after she had removed the IV, was chalky-white against my skin.

‘Fuck,’ said Donald. Plan C flickered across his face.

I moved quickly, scrambling up in the bed and reaching across for the metallic lamp. Unfortunately it was stuck to the table. I grabbed the IV stand instead, pulling it around and jabbing Donald in the chest. He yelped, staggering backwards.

The door burst open and Ashley rushed in. He was carrying a carved statue that he immediately hauled back like a baseball bat. Donald turned to gape at him and Ashley swung the statue without hesitation, striking him on the side of the head. The top half of the statue snapped off, flying into the corner, and Donald dropped like a stone.

We both stared at his recumbent figure. One finger twitched. After the long, slow build-up, it had all happened so quickly that it was almost anticlimactic.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Ashley, transferring his gaze to me. He still held the bottom half of the statue.

‘Yes.’ I lowered the IV stand. My heart was pounding. I was also conscious of the fact that I was kneeling on the bed in a too large and too short, somewhat see-through hospital gown. I didn’t have a bra on or, for that case, knickers. This might have been a good look when I was in my twenties or thirties, but possibly not so much now.

A nurse hurried through the open door, followed by a beefy security man. They stopped, stunned, as they took in the scene.

‘We need the police,’ said Ashley, putting the broken statue down. ‘I’m a detective, from Australia. This man tried to kill her.’

I nodded. ‘He injected something into my IV. Bleach, I’m guessing.’ I held up my arm. ‘Lucky for me, it wasn’t attached.’

‘Shit.’ Ashley stared at me. ‘If I’d known that, I’d have come in earlier.’

The security man was already talking into his phone, while the nurse came over to kneel beside Donald and check his pulse. I slid back beneath the covers, arranging them decorously. Adrenalin still surged giddily through my body. I felt hot, for the first time in a long while. Ashley bent down beside the bedside chest and rose holding a syringe between two fingers. He stared at it for a moment, and then placed it fastidiously beside the lamp.

I felt no sense of satisfaction that we had been partially right all along. It
had
been Donald. Instead I felt like crying. A woman had been killed because someone thought she was someone else, and that the someone else knew something she actually didn’t. It was all so futile. And it was also an element that Donald and Phoebe had in common. Both had acted without questioning their assumptions, narrowed by the lenses of their own egoism. And both had been willing to sacrifice everyone and anyone to that end. It was the self-indulgence that I found so nauseating. If it weren’t for the nurse and the security man, I would have slid from my bed and kicked Donald in the face.

Ashley sat on the side of my bed and glanced at me briefly before settling his eyes once more on the recumbent Donald. He reached for my hand and folded it within his. I could feel his pulse through the heel of his palm. Even though it, like mine, was jagged, it settled me slowly. I could see the top half of the statue lying on its side over by the wall. Carved draperies fell from a silky shoulder. An oval face with an aquiline nose and a smooth brow. Piercing eyes. With a jolt I realised it was Athena. And that was just right.