Hindsight (9781921997211) (6 page)

She stopped talking and passed a hand wearily over her face to tuck a stray strand of hair behind one ear. The humming of the air conditioner and the murmur of voices from outside the office filled the silence. No one said anything until Sorenson finally broke the spell.

‘So we don't actually know whether or not he was planning on killing her?'

‘She's dead. That makes him a killer,' Phil said.

‘Phil's right. He's a killer whether or not he meant to be,' Ed said.

‘The drugs in her system didn't kill her. If he planned on killing her it would've been by some other means. We'll probably never know what he had in mind,' Sonya said.

‘I hope he never gets the chance to show us,' said Ed.

‘Yes, we have a first-class nutter out there. I want you to work your butts off until we have him behind bars. This is not someone we want among the general public. We need to work as a team so I expect nothing but co-operation from everyone,' Sorenson said staring Phil down.

Phil glowered and was about to start bitching again when Sorenson's phone rang. She answered the call and gave them all a very obvious ‘your presence is no longer required' look. Grumbling, they filed out.

‘Hey, sorry to hear about your wife, mate,' Rawlinson said as they walked along the corridor into the squad room.

He was the younger detective, probably in his early thirties, dressed to kill in a suit that made Ed feel like he'd bought his own clothes from the welfare store and then slept in them for a few days. He was a strange mixture of arrogant and eager, vacillating between them.

‘Thanks,' was Ed's curt reply.

Phil glared at Rawlinson, trying to decide whether the guy was being a prick or whether he was just stupid. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, turning instead to Byrnes.

‘So Detective Byrnes, in your expert opinion, how would you like us to proceed?'

Byrnes's face hardened and a vein started to throb in his temple. ‘How about you and Detective Dyson fill us in on where you're up to? Then we'll tell you what we know and we can work out a plan of attack from there.'

‘OK, well, what we have is sweet FA. We searched the victim's car and apartment, interviewed her colleagues and spoke to her landlady. So far we know nothing about her. All we have is a few bills, her purse with a couple of ATM cards and a book with a half-dozen numbers in it. We were about to start interviewing her neighbours and checking out the contacts in her address book when we were interrupted.' Phil's summary came out like bullets from a machine gun.

‘We know she worked late on a regular basis, kept pretty much to herself, didn't have any close friends at work and has the cleanest bloody apartment I've ever seen,' Ed added.

‘Is that all?' Byrnes asked.

‘Yes — that's all,' Phil snarled. ‘Do you think we're keeping the juicy stuff to ourselves so we can claim all the glory? Sounds more like something I'd expect from you lot.'

Byrnes gave Phil a long hard look but either he couldn't think of anything to say, or he had plenty but thought better of it. He turned back to Ed.

‘And what about the officers in Jewel Bay? What are their names?'

‘Constable Forsyth and Sergeant Johnston. We saw Forsyth this morning, he was the first on the scene, but we haven't caught up with Reg yet. We'll head over to see them both this afternoon. Forsyth was checking for any CCTV footage of the street. So what do you have?'

Rawlinson looked at Byrnes and, getting a slight nod, started to fill them in. ‘Her previous name was Alicia Mazzone. Her husband was Louis Mazzone, part of the mob from the eastern states and involved mainly in drugs and money laundering.

‘He's a real bastard, likes to use his fists. When her mother died, Alicia finally saw her way out. She was a pretty smart woman. She'd been collecting information about Louis for a long time and gave us enough to put him away until he's a very old man. He's still got twenty years to go before he even gets to think about a parole hearing.'

Byrnes took up the thread. ‘So that's why we think it's highly likely that someone, somewhere recognised her and fed the information back to Louis. He's got pretty long arms, even in gaol.'

‘Yeah, it seems obvious but it just doesn't feel right,' Ed said. ‘There's something about this one that sets off alarm bells.'

‘Jesus, Ed, I hate it when you get those feelings.' Phil grimaced. She looked Byrnes straight in the eye. ‘I've worked with Ed for longer than I like to remember and if he thinks we've got ourselves a fuckin' weirdo, I reckon we're in for fun times.'

‘Yeah, well, as talented as Detective Dyson might be, Detective Steiner, we need a bit more to go on than a tingle in his big toe,' Byrnes said impatiently. ‘We need to know more about her life, her movements yesterday, where she ate, anyone she called. I want to know everything, right down to how many times she went to the bathroom. I didn't think she was the type, but just maybe she called someone from her old life and they let the cat out of the bag.

‘I suggest you continue to follow up her movements locally, the numbers in her phone book, her habits, all the usual stuff. See if anything stands out. In the meantime we'll go and put some pressure on some known associates of the Mazzone family. See if we can find out anything.'

‘Sounds fine to me; less we have to work in the same space the better,' Phil muttered.

‘Right, call me if anything comes up, otherwise we'll meet again tomorrow and compare notes.' Byrnes turned and strode out of the room with Rawlinson loping along behind him like an eager puppy.

‘Fun coupla guys,' Ed said.

‘Yeah, life of the party,' Phil snorted. ‘Don't think I'll be adding them to my Christmas card list.'

‘Yeah, well, let's get back out there, hey? I can feel the trail going cold every minute we hang around here.'

Phil grabbed her coat and keys. ‘Jesus, Ed, you're all cheer today. Let's go see Reg and Constable Newbie and see what they've been up to.'

CHAPTER

6

Ed and Phil stopped at a café to grab a late lunch. When they walked in everyone looked at them. A couple of the patrons knew them, having assisted them with investigations, but nearly everyone recognised them as the detectives from Fairfield. Their pictures had appeared in the local rag on and off for the last fifteen years; that amounted to minor celebrity. They ordered and settled into a table and the conversation around them gradually resumed.

Word of the events in Stuart Lane had spread. Jewel Bay was a small town and people didn't like it when their idyllic life was shaken by any crime, least of all murder. Like most country towns, suicide and car accidents claimed far too many lives, but generally people lived content with the knowledge that the most serious crime was drunk and disorderly behaviour on Friday and Saturday nights.

The café owner soon bustled over with their lunches. She put their food down in front of them and stood there fidgeting.

‘Sorry to bother you, but can you tell me anything about what's happened? Everyone wants to know.'

Ed fielded the question. Small towns were not places where they could move with anonymity and they had encountered this type of questioning in every case they worked.

‘We can't tell you much yet. It's still too early. Reg, Sergeant Johnston, will fill you in when we know more.'

‘But was she murdered?'

The word ‘murder' stopped all conversation in the café as if by magic and an anticipatory hush descended as the customers waited to hear the detective's response.

‘She was attacked and the attack caused her death. The final autopsy results will be available in the next few days. We can tell you more then.'

‘Do you know who did it?'

‘Unfortunately not.'

‘So it could be anyone?' A note of hysteria crept into her voice.

‘Let's not panic. In nearly every case the killer and victim know each other and there's a clear motive. Random attacks are extremely rare.'

She looked like she wanted to ask more but Ed cut her off. ‘Is my banana smoothie on the way?'

She looked blankly at him for a few seconds. ‘Yes, yes it is. I'll just get it now.'

Slowly people turned back to their meals and Ed and Phil got stuck into theirs.

‘So what's with the health kick?' Phil said, eyeing Ed's meal. ‘I can't ever remember you ordering a banana smoothie.'

‘I read that vitamin B was good for hangovers.'

Phil's smile vanished. ‘You gonna tell me about that?'

‘It was our wedding anniversary.'

‘Shit, I'd forgotten. I should've remembered.'

‘Yeah, some best woman you are.'

‘I would have kept you company. Why didn't you say something?'

‘Look, I appreciate it, but you can't keep hovering over me every time a significant day comes up. Grace'd get fed up with that pretty quick.'

‘Grace understands.'

‘Grace has the patience of a saint, how else could she put up with you? But even she'll get sick of it one of these days. I don't want to be responsible for that. God knows we work long enough hours without you adding after-hours babysitting to it all.'

Grace was an amazing woman; an accomplished artist and businesswoman, she breezed her way through life seamlessly, organising herself and Phil without breaking a sweat.

‘Yeah, I can't believe she hasn't got sick of me yet, but you know she loves you and if she thought you needed some company she would have been shoving me out the door herself.'

Ed glanced around the room. Most people's eyes slid away as his gaze swept over them, embarrassed to be caught listening and watching, but one pair of eyes met and locked with his, catching him by surprise. They belonged to a young woman at a window table.

She was in her late twenties and attractive in an old-fashioned kind of way. She had curly, honey blonde hair, carelessly pulled back in a clip. Her eyes were what transformed her face from plain to interesting: a warm hazel with flecks of gold. She smiled at him as she returned his stare. He blinked then looked away. The smile made him nervous for some reason he couldn't fathom. He turned back to Phil and started to tackle his meal.

‘So where do you want to start this afternoon?' Phil asked. She had ordered her staple diet of hamburger with the lot. She took an enormous bite, dripping sauce down her chin.

Ed never ceased to be amazed at the food Phil put away. She was about five-eight and had a thin, wiry frame without a pick of fat on it. Her clear skin and shiny crop of short strawberry blonde hair completed the picture of glowing good health. Anyone who didn't know her would have been forgiven for thinking she led the lifestyle of a yogi.

‘Jesus, Phil, you gotta stop eating that shit. Just watching you makes my stomach churn.'

‘Hey, one salad wrap and a bloody smoothie doesn't give you the right to give me diet counselling. When you start looking after yourself properly I might start to listen.'

‘Fair enough. I just don't understand why you aren't the size of a small whale.'

‘I keep telling you, it's all in the genes. I was just blessed with a fast metabolism.'

‘Women everywhere would pay thousands for what you have if only you could bottle it and sell it.' He took another bite of wrap. ‘After we're done here we might check out the crime scene again now that the techs have left. I want to get a feel for the place and see if I can get into the killer's head.'

‘It's as good a place as any to start. We'd better head in to see Reg and his rookie too or he's likely to get his nose out of joint. You know what he's like. He hates to feel excluded.'

Reg had been a police officer since the dawn of time. He was part of the local landscape, a career uniform, steady and reliable. He wasn't a shining star but he was familiar, and his stern but fair approach made him a favourite with the locals. Ed and Phil had worked with him on every major crime in Jewel Bay.

‘Yep, I thought we might ask him to organise all the local interviews. We can conduct them here and he and his offsider can either sit in or watch.'

‘Sounds good. We might want to get his theory on who the killer could be too. I know the suits think it's mob related but I'm not so sure. The crate bothers me. If it was a professional hit why bother to knock her out and stuff her into a crate?'

‘Yeah, too risky and messy for a pro.'

‘You'd have to have a van with a hydraulic lifter to move it,' Ed commented.

‘Yep, or more than one person.'

‘Two of them? Nah, I doubt it. I reckon we start by looking at any van owners with priors.'

‘Perfect job for the newbie if Reg agrees,' Phil said.

They left as soon as they finished their meals. Stuart Lane was a bit of a hike but they decided to leave their car and walk. The local cop shop was only a few hundred metres further than the lane.

The day was cool and crisp. The sun broke through the clouds every so often but its pale rays did nothing to banish the bite in the breeze coming directly off the sea. The trees along the street were bare and the overall impression was of a summer haven that had hunkered down for the winter months. There were plenty of people out and about but they had the purposeful stride of locals about their business, not the dawdle of holiday makers.

At the lane, the tape had already been taken down. They stood looking at the doorway where the body had been abandoned. As they were standing there a car squeezed its way down the lane, forcing them to step into the alcove while it passed. It stopped a bit further down and a bloke jumped out and started to unload cartons from the boot.

Ed stepped out of the doorway. Watching the man, a piece of the puzzle fell into place. ‘The killer was coming back for her. I wonder what he was planning on doing?'

‘I don't want to know.' Phil sighed.

‘Hate to say it but I think this one has an agenda,' Ed said.

‘Great, let's keep that idea to ourselves for a while shall we? We don't want to start a panic. I can just imagine what would happen if they thought there was a serial killer or rapist in their midst.'

‘Yep, let's go see what Reg has for us. You never know, Constable whatever-his-name-is might have found some camera footage.'

‘Yeah and I'm gonna win Lotto tonight.' Phil gave him a crooked smile.

They headed down the laneway, turning left at the end and covering the short distance to the police station. They passed the phone booth.

‘I can't remember, did forensics say they found prints on the phone or not?'

‘Yeah, lots of them, we'll check with Reg to see if Old Mick has a record. With a bit of luck we might at least be able to identify his prints and confirm that it was probably him who called it in.'

They spent the rest of the afternoon with Reg and his offsider, whose first name turned out to be Alex. Alex Forsyth was a good kid — enthusiastic and willing to do anything asked of him. He'd had no joy finding any camera footage. Jewel Bay just wasn't the sort of place where the local shopkeepers felt they needed CCTV. Most shops didn't even have cameras and the ones that did mostly didn't use them in the winter months.

Phil and Ed filled Reg and Alex in on the morning's proceedings over in Fairfield and ran them through their theory about the van and its driver. Reg couldn't hide his annoyance at the Crime Service.

‘So they've breezed in now that she's dead and told you that she's been living here under the witness protection program for the last eighteen months?'

‘Yes, that's pretty much it,' Phil muttered.

‘I can't believe they didn't tell me when they moved her here.'

‘Yeah, sometimes they don't. It just depends on how connected they think the people are who're after the witness.'

‘They thought I might be dirty? You've gotta be kidding?'

‘They don't know you like we do, Reg.' Ed tried to soothe the older man's obviously wounded pride.

‘What, they thought I might let it drop after a few too many pints?'

‘Something like that.'

‘Well, it's a bit bloody rich.'

They got the feeling he would have liked to say a lot more but was holding back for the sake of Constable Forsyth's delicate young ears.

They spent the rest of the afternoon reviewing records that Alex pulled for them, looking at people who owned vans in Fairfield, Jewel Bay and Clifton. It was surprising how many there were. There were a total of 327 registered in the three towns. No one really leapt out as a likely suspect. Twenty-six owners had committed previous offences, mostly minor. A few had records for drink driving. A couple had records for assault or other misdemeanours but none of them stood out as potential murderers.

By the time six o'clock rolled round, Ed's head was ready to explode and his eyes were dry and gritty. Reg was clearly over it too. He wasn't used to working much past five o'clock. They decided to call it a day.

‘Ed, come back to my place and have dinner with us,' Phil urged. ‘Grace would be glad to see you.'

‘I'd love to but, honestly, last night caught up with me again about three hours ago and I need to sleep. Tell Grace I promise I'll come and visit soon.'

‘No worries. If you're sure you'll be OK?'

There was a question under the question and Ed knew it.

‘I promise I'm just going home to sleep.'

‘No booze?'

‘No booze.'

‘OK, let's go, I'll drop you home.'

Ed was as good as his word. He went home, took a handful of painkillers and crashed into bed at 7 PM. He didn't move a muscle until he was woken by the sound of the rubbish trucks doing their usual 6.30 AM rounds. His head felt clearer than it had in months. Something about this new case was hitting a nerve and he knew he needed to be at his best.

He couldn't put his finger on what was bugging him. He was at work by 7.30 AM and the first thing he did was revisit the list of van owners with priors or a history of violence. He found a couple who were probably worth speaking to but no one that gave him that glimmer of excitement he felt when they were on the trail of a suspect.

Phil sauntered in an hour later and stopped dead when she saw Ed at his desk, glued to the screen in front of him. ‘Did you wet the bed?'

‘Nah, but I slept like a baby.'

‘Only people who have never had kids use that expression,' Phil quipped, then, realising what she'd said, the smile dropped from her face. ‘Shit, sorry. I forgot to take my sensitivity pills this morning.'

Ed forced a smile. ‘It's OK. I don't expect everyone to watch every word they say around me in case they happen to say something that's a bit close to home.'

‘Yeah, I know. So, anything leapt out at you now that you've unpickled your brain cells?'

‘No, there's not much. We're going to have to look at nearly all of them. Reg and Alex are going to be busy.'

‘Bugger. Want a coffee?'

‘Nah, I've already had three.'

‘Is the boss in yet?'

‘She got in half an hour ago. I filled her in on yesterday. No word from the suits.'

‘Hopefully they've crawled back under their rock for a while.'

‘Do you want to have a look at these again?' Ed nodded at the list on his desk.

‘Yeah, you never know, for the first time in history you might have missed something.'

They spent the morning in relative silence, trawling through online records, breaking for a quick sandwich at lunchtime. They'd been back at it for a solid couple of hours when they were interrupted by Sorenson.

‘That's what I like to see, my two best detectives hard at it.'

The honey in her tone instantly alerted them that something was up.

‘Ed, can you step into my office for a few minutes. There's someone I'd like you to meet.'