Deadly Diplomacy (20 page)

Sangster stared at Langhurst. “Did Anthony Harris attend your reception on Sunday evening?” he asked.

“No, Inspector. He was invited, of course, as a politeness, but I didn’t expect him to come.” Langhurst shook his head. “His murder is
such
a tragedy. He was a brilliant politician and a well-respected MP. It’s just so sad this had to happen.” He paused. “And that poor young man last night, murdered in the same place as Ellen.”

“Did you know Danny Burton?” Sangster asked.

“I heard about his murder on the news this morning.” Langhurst leaned in closer. “What’s going on, Inspector? I have a duty to protect the rest of my staff. If you think anyone else is at risk, you
need
to tell me.”

Sangster stiffened. “We’re investigating every possibility at the moment, Sir. But I assure you, you’ll be the first to know if we think anyone else is in danger.” He sat back to collect his thoughts.

Taking that as a sign he’d finished, the Chairman looked at his watch and went to stand up. “Well, if that’s all.” But Sangster remained seated. “Just a few more questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” The Chairman’s only sign of irritation was another quick glance at his watch.

“Did you know Ellen was pregnant when she was murdered?” Sangster asked, quietly.

An involuntary shudder shook the Chairman. Clearly taken aback, he pushed his chair back and stood up to look out of the window. “No,” he said, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t know that.”

“Did you know she had a boyfriend?” Sangster asked, satisfied he’d
finally
got to Langhurst. “Or who the father of her baby might be?”

Langhurst turned back. “No, Inspector. Why would I?”

Sangster nodded. “Did Ellen Chambers know your wife, Sir?”

The Chairman was clearly rattled now. “What does my wife have to do with this?”

Sangster shrugged. “I’m simply trying to establish if Ellen and your wife knew each other.”

Langhurst stared at him. “They knew each other, Inspector, but not well.”

Sangster nodded and closed his notepad. “Well, I think that’s all for the time being, Sir.” He picked up his file and walked out.

Well, that was some reaction, Sangster thought as he walked in the direction of the staircase to look for Dalton. Langhurst hadn’t known Ellen Chambers was pregnant, that’s for sure. And he hadn’t liked that question about how well she’d known his wife either.

He looked down at his sketch of the Chairman. He could still see those flaring nostrils and clasped hands. All that display of confidence and ease must take a lot of self-control, he thought.

*

Later, back in the stuffy interview room, Sangster scrolled through his mobile inbox for messages. Still nothing from Jess. Why hadn’t she called? She ought to have heard from Susan by now. He would call her as soon as he’d finished with Richard Price.

He opened the file Dalton had given him on the CEO. It made interesting reading. In contrast to the Chairman’s background, Richard Price had been born into a landowning family in the State of Victoria. Given the best education money could buy in both Australia and the US, he had moved smoothly up the ladder of success. But things had not gone so well in his private life. His wife divorced him last year; and his credit rating had been downgraded in the last six months.

Feeling someone’s presence, Sangster looked up.

Price stood in the doorway, watching him.

“Come in, Mr Price.” Sangster pointed to the sofa. “Take a seat.”

Price looked at the sofa as he walked over, ignored it and sat down on the chair near Sangster. He crossed his long legs, with a fixed half-smile on his lips.

Sangster tapped his foot on the carpet, and pulled his chair round to face Price. He put great stock on first impressions; and this man had not made a good start. He picked up his notepad and pencil. “So, Mr Price, can you tell me when you last saw Miss Chambers?”

Ignoring the question, Price launched in: “I’ve heard there’s been another murder?”

Sangster looked at him. “Did you know Danny Burton?”

“Why should I? I’ve never stayed at The Palms. He worked there, didn’t he?” Price didn’t wait for an answer. “Why was he killed, that’s what I want to know? Did he have something to do with Ellen’s murder? Or Harris’s? Or both?”

Sangster tried to remain patient. “We’re investigating that now.”

“Well, any murder is shocking. But a second, and a third…” Price looked at him and shook his head. “
Very
unfortunate for you, Inspector.”

“Even more unfortunate for the victims,” Sangster retorted. “Now, let’s get back to your colleague, Ellen Chambers. When did you last see her?”

Price still had that half-smile on his lips. “At the Conference lunch on Sunday.”

“And how did she seem?”

“Her normal self,” Price said, calmly. “But we only chatted for a couple of minutes. We were busy looking after our guests.”

“Before that, when was the last time you saw her?”

“On Friday morning, at the office in Melbourne.”

“How did she seem?”

Price shrugged. “Fine, I’d say.”

Sangster shook off his irritation. Tilting his sketchpad so Price couldn’t see what he was doing, he started scratching away in his notepad: those huge glasses, thin face and lips. “Did you get on well with her?” he asked.

“Well enough,” Price replied.

“How well?”

“As well as anyone.”

Sangster paused. He didn’t like his questions being batted back with a glib remark. We’ll see about that, he thought. “Did you often travel with her, Mr Price?”

“What are you getting at, Inspector?”

Sangster tapped his foot on the carpet again. Why did these men find answering a few questions so difficult? What were they hiding? “I’m simply asking if you often travelled with her.”

“Yes, on business.” Price shifted in his chair for the first time. “You probably already know the Chairman, Ellen and I were in China last week.”

Sangster nodded. “What kind of a relationship would you say you had with Miss Chambers?”

“As good as anyone else.”

“Even though she was in competition for your job?”

That half-smile faded from Price’s face.

Sangster launched in, quickly. “How well do you get on with your Chairman, Mr Price?”

Price looked away for the first time. “He’s not an easy man to get on with, as others will tell you.”

“But Miss Chambers got on with him?”

Price nodded. “John listened to her.”

Sangster detected a slight bitterness in his voice. “Did you see her outside the office? Socially, I mean?” he asked.

Price hesitated. “No.”

“Sure about that, Mr Price?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know she had a boyfriend?”

Price shook his head, with no obvious surprise on his face.

Sangster watched Price’s reaction to the next question very carefully. “Did you know she was pregnant?”

But Price just shook his head.

That casual reaction perplexed Sangster; it was nothing like the Chairman’s. Had Price already known about the pregnancy? Sangster pressed on. “Did the Chairman know Ellen well outside the office?”

Price nodded. “He liked having her around.”

“What did his wife think about that?”

Price snorted. “Have you met Linda Shipperton?”

Sangster ignored that. “So he was… closer to Ellen than any of you?”

Price gave a rueful smile. “He talked to her a lot about the business, about future plans and projects. So, yes, I suppose you could say he
was
closer to her.”

Sangster was getting more irritated with this man. “Are you married, Mr Price?”

“Divorced.”

“Recent, was it?”

Price looked at him. “A year ago.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No one special. But I don’t see what this has to do with Ellen’s death.”

Sangster glanced up. “Messy for everyone, divorces, especially carving up the assets.”

Price’s expression changed in a flash. The shutters came down.

Sangster leant forward. “Do you have financial… problems, Mr Price?”

Price crossed his arms. “I don’t see what this has to do with your enquiry.” He leant forward to emphasise the point.

A strong whiff of alcoholic breath hit Sangster. “Answer the question please.”

Price hesitated. “In the divorce settlement, my wife got our two properties. I kept our financial investments. But, with the crash, I’ve had some, er, difficulties.”

“How has that affected your personal credit rating?”

Price’s face flushed.

Sangster didn’t want to kick a man when he was down, but he had to know the truth. “How much debt would you say you’re in, Mr Price?”

“I still don’t see what…”

“
Please
, Mr Price.”

Price sank back in his chair. “A lot.”

“You can’t afford to lose your job then?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?”

Again, Sangster ignored that. “And the Chairman was grooming Ellen to take over from you?”

Price stuck his chin out. I didn’t kill her because they were after my job. if
that’s
what you’re implying.”

Sangster looked at the indignant face glaring at him and stood up. “Right, well, that’ll be all for the time being.” Nodding at Richard Price, he walked out and headed straight downstairs to the lobby to look for Dalton. He was glad to be out of that stuffy room and away from Richard Price. He didn’t like the man, who clearly had personal problems. But would he turn to murder to solve them? Still, the fact that he hadn’t reacted to news of Ellen’s pregnancy was surprising. But when you’re watching stock markets collapse…

He stopped on the stairs when he saw the Chinese delegates and Derek Marshall, pacing around in the lobby below.

When Derek spotted Sangster, he ran up the stairs to him. “Chen Xiamen didn’t turn up to his appointment with the Chinese community. No one’s seen him since breakfast. And he’s not answering his mobile.” He ran his fingers through his mop of hair. “I’ve no idea where he is.”

Sangster stared at Derek’s mortified face, hardly able to control his temper. “I want to talk to the Chinese delegates.”

Derek hesitated. “My instructions are that no one should talk to them until the Chinese Ambassador and the PM’s Adviser get here.”

“
Three
people have been murdered.” Sangster’s voice was icy. “Do you want blood on your hands too?”

Derek looked at his watch. “The PM’s Adviser should be landing any minute, on the 12 o’clock flight from Canberra.”

Sangster’s eyes never left Derek’s. “Can you interpret for me?”

Derek stood for a moment, obviously weighing up all the consequences. “Okay,” he said, looking around. “But let’s go somewhere private.”

As the taxi sped through the Brisbane streets, huge drops of rain splashed onto the windscreen. Dodging a bus, it turned onto George Street and drew up behind a line of traffic waiting to get through the lights.

Jess sat in the back. The motion of the windscreen wipers seemed to clunk back and forth in time with her heartbeat. She shivered as the air conditioning chilled her damp skin, and turned to look out of the back window again. Was he still following? Or had he gone after Susan? The knot in Jess’s stomach tightened. She hadn’t handled Susan very well in the café. She should never have let her get away like that.

Her mobile rang.

“Jess?” Sharon’s voiced sounded tense. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’ve been worried about you.”

“And I’m worried about Susan Chambers. She’s run off again with that diary.”

“I
knew
she was going to be trouble.”

“And you were right. Listen, Sharon, I’m running late.” Jess pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked at her watch. “I’m in a taxi on my way to the Convention Centre to see John Langhurst.” She paused. “What did the High Commissioner say when you told him what happened to me?”

“He was so shocked, he phoned the Federal Police Commissioner immediately to ask him to guarantee your safety.”

“Oh God.”

“You’re not going to like this either.” Sharon hesitated. “He’s sent Nigel to help you.”

Jess’s stomach fell. That’s exactly what she’d been dreading. Of course as second in command, Nigel would have to represent the High Commissioner in an emergency, but she’d been hoping he’d be too busy to come.

“Nigel tried to get out of it,” said Sharon. “Had a real strop. Insisted he was needed for the Foreign Secretary’s visit. Simon jumped in and volunteered to go instead. But the High Commissioner wouldn’t hear of it. Simon has organised the whole visit so he has to stay. I tried too, Jess. But the High Commissioner wanted me to hold the fort while you’re away.”

Jess looked up; the traffic lights were
still
red. “Thanks, Sharon, but the High Commissioner is right. Look, I can’t talk now; I need to phone the police to tell them about Susan.”

“Simon said he’ll have his phone on silent throughout this afternoon’s programme, so text him regularly to let him know you’re okay.”

“Right.”

“And I’ll be in my office, staying by the phone for the rest of the day. Call me any time.”

“I will.” As Jess hung up, she was conscious of movement alongside her. She turned sideways. A taxi travelling in the opposite direction stopped beside her to let another car into the stream of traffic. She glanced into the back…

Chen Xiamen?

She leant closer to the window and peered out. Yes, it was definitely Chen, talking into his mobile.

Jess didn’t move for fear of catching his eye. As his taxi moved off, she turned and watched out of the back window until it disappeared. Where was he going now, she wondered?

Jolting when her taxi finally pulled away, her thoughts flashed angrily back to Susan. How could she run off like that? The stupid girl had no intention of handing over the diary. Not only was she interfering with her sister’s murder investigation and withholding evidence, precious police resources were being spent looking for her. Of course grief was making her reckless, but even so… Jess knew she had no choice now but to leave Susan to the police.