ONCE UPON A LIE (A Fitzjohn Mystery) (25 page)

‘So how did
Michael Rossi come to be in the water?’ asked Fitzjohn, his eyes locking on to Prentice.

‘It was
Stella’s idea to put Mike over the side.  She said it would look like he’d slipped down between the pontoon and the yacht when he came on board.’  Prentice looked down at his hands.  ‘Stella had planned the whole thing.  Phoned Mike and asked him to meet her on the yacht.  She knew what his reaction would be when he saw me there.’

Nigel Prentice
rested his head in his hands, tears brimming his eyes.  ‘I didn’t want this to happen.  I’m so sorry.’

‘Caution
Mr Prentice, Betts,’ said Fitzjohn as he left the room.

CHAPTER
27

Fitzjohn sat back in his chair, his hands clasped together.  ‘
It’s been an interesting case, Betts.  Our investigation in to Michael Rossi’s death turned out to be the catalyst for a string of events.  More than we could have imagined.’

‘
And all because of one telephone call,’ replied Betts as he emptied the contents of his desk drawers into a cardboard box.  ‘If Rossi hadn’t received the call from Robert Nesbit on that Friday afternoon, he wouldn’t have left the winery early, and wouldn’t have been in Sydney to meet Stella on Wyngard’s yacht that night.’

‘
True,’ said Fitzjohn. ‘But if not that night, I think Stella Rossi would have chosen another.  I doubt she’d have rested until Michael Rossi was dead.  I suspect his infidelity sent her over the edge.’  Fitzjohn paused.  ‘She engineered the whole evening with such precision; even to the point of having Nigel Prentice collude with her in murder.’

‘You could
say Michael Rossi didn’t die in vain, sir.’  Betts closed his empty desk drawers.  ‘After all, our investigation into his death has uncovered the real reason for Claudia Rossi’s death and revealed her killer, Phillipa Braithwaite.’

‘Mmm. 
He never did accept that his sister’s death was accidental, did he?  And he was right.  But it was more than he could bear to finally be told that Claudia had not only been swindled, but had indeed been murdered.  And by her best friend, Phillipa Braithwaite.  Of course, Claudia’s fate was sealed the moment she started to ask questions about the Brandt sketch.  Phillipa Braithwaite would have known that it was only a matter of time before she was exposed as the fraudulent art dealer.’

‘
What I can’t understand, sir, is why Richard Edwards didn’t come forward at the Coroner’s inquiry instead of waiting until he was on his death bed.’

‘Who knows why people do what they do, Betts
, but in this case it probably had something to do with the one million dollars he was to receive from the insurance company.  He would have been well aware that that wouldn’t happen if it was found Claudia had been murdered.  And exposing Phillipa Braithwaite as the murderer wasn’t going to bring Claudia back.’

‘
I wonder if he knew for sure that Phillipa had murdered Claudia with the mushrooms?’  said Betts.

‘I
believe he did.  I think Claudia would have told him when he returned home from Singapore that Saturday morning in 2010, and found her gravely ill.  But he chose to keep it, along with what he knew about the poison pen letters, and the fake Brandt sketch, to himself until he was on his deathbed.  The rest we know.  Rossi confronted Phillipa that afternoon at the Mosman art gallery.  Of course, we’ll never know exactly what transpired between them, but I think it caused Phillipa Braithwaite to panic.  And when that happened, she made her first mistake by breaking in to Esme Timmons’s home.’

‘
Have you heard anything about the money paid out from Claudia’s life insurance policy, Betts?’ continued Fitzjohn as he sat forward and started to remove the contents of his desk drawers into his briefcase.

‘Yes, sir.  The
MLC has put an injunction on the sale of Richard Edwards’s property, and they’ve also requested the freezing of all his assets until the proceeds of the policy are recovered.’

Fitzjohn closed his briefcase and looked around the Incident Room.  ‘You know,
I’ve become quite accustomed to this room with its massive amount of space.  I’ll miss it.’  He eyed Betts putting on his suit coat.  ‘Unlike yourself, it seems.  You look like you’re in a hurry to leave, Betts.’

‘I am
, sir.’  A wry smile crossed Betts’s face.  ‘I have a date.’

Fitzjohn’s eyes widened, his natural inquisitiveness taking
hold.  ‘And who’s the lucky girl?’

‘Simone Knowles.’

‘Our pathologist?  I wouldn’t have thought you’d have had time to establish a relationship with all that we’ve had to cope with over the last couple of weeks.  When did you find the time?’

‘
It wasn’t easy, sir.  I’ve been out running, before dawn, with Simone.  She’s been helping me prepare for the Sydney to Surf Fun Run I’m entered in.’

‘But that race doesn’t take place until July, does it?’

‘No.’  Betts grinned.  ‘I’ll see you at Day Street Station in the morning, sir.’  As Betts left, Ron Carling appeared in the doorway to find Fitzjohn pulling on his coat.

‘Alistair, I’m glad I caught you before you left.  You and Martin Betts have become quite a fixture around here.  We’re going to miss you
both.’

Fitzjohn’s suspicions as to whether Grieg had planted a mole in Kings Cross Police Station resurfaced as he took Ron Carling’s extended hand. 
‘Thanks for everything Ron.  No doubt our paths will cross in the not too distant future.’

‘They’re sure to.  And you never know.  Chief Superintendent Grieg might second you here again.  Speaking of w
hich, there’s something I want to tell you Alistair.  You know the mole you spoke of the other day?  It was me.’

‘I thought you might have been.  I saw you and Grieg
together in town last week.’

Ron laughed. 
‘Grieg’s idea of a clandestine meeting.  I thought it best to humour the man.  He got nothing from me that he could use against you.  But be warned.  Grieg’s out to destroy your credibility and your career.’

‘
I know.’  Fitzjohn picked up his briefcase.  ‘And there’s only one thing stopping him.  For the moment at least.  I caught him in an uncompromising position a few months ago.’  Fitzjohn thought back to his chance meeting with Grieg and a woman, other than Grieg’s wife.  ‘Nevertheless, thanks for the warning.’

Fitzjohn looked out of the side window of the taxi as it pulled up in front of his cottage that evening to see a soft glow of light emanating from the front living room window.  Puzzled, he paid the driver and climbed out.  As he did so, the front door opened and Sophie appeared.

‘
Uncle Alistair.  I’m glad you’re not late this evening because I’ve cooked dinner.’

‘I did
n’t expect you to be here, Sophie,’ said Fitzjohn, coming through the front gate.  ‘You said you’d be returning to your lodgings at the university today.’  Fitzjohn grabbed the mail from the box.

‘
That was the plan, but then events took over Uncle Alistair, and you weren’t contactable, so I made an executive decision.’

‘Oh?
  What sort of executive decision?’ asked Fitzjohn as they made their way through the house and in to the kitchen.

‘
You remember I said that I’d look for a new greenhouse for you?’

‘Yes
.’ Fitzjohn felt an uncharacteristic feeling of apprehension take hold.

‘Well, we got the most amazing offer this morning.
’

‘We did
?’

‘Yes.
  A beautiful Victorian style greenhouse.  You’ll love it, Uncle Alistair.  It has everything you could ever wish for in a greenhouse.’  Fitzjohn grimaced.  ‘Staging, shelving, a potting bench.  Even automatic vent openers.  It’s truly the Rolls Royce of greenhouses.’

Fitzjohn put his briefcase
on the kitchen table and took his suit coat off.  ‘And what is this Rolls Royce going to cost
us,
Sophie?’

‘Us?’

‘You said
we
got an amazing offer so I thought perhaps you might be planning on being a joint owner.’

Sophie frowned. 
‘No.  Not exactly.  Not at all, actually.  I just didn’t want you to miss this great deal.’

Fitzjohn
sensed Sophie’s euphoria diminish, and he sighed.  ‘When is it being delivered?’

The smile
returned to Sophie’s face.  ‘Oh, you are pleased, aren’t you?  For a minute there I thought...  Silly of me.  It’ll be delivered and erected tomorrow morning.  And in case you can’t be here, I’ve arranged to stay over for another day.’  Sophie beamed.

CHAPTER 28

In the week following Fitzjohn’s return to Day Street Police Station, he arrived at Esme Timmons’s home to find an army of landscape gardeners hard at work.  From his vantage point on the footpath, he could see Esme settled in one of the wicker chairs on the front porch surveying the activity, and giving the odd direction to her band of workers.  She waved when she saw him.  Fitzjohn opened the front gate, and dodging between the gardeners and their tools, made his way up the front steps.

‘Good morning, Miss
Timmons.’

‘M
orning, Chief Inspector.  This is a nice surprise because I didn’t expect I’d see you again now that your investigations are complete.’  She gestured to the wicker chair next to hers.  ‘As you can see, I’m having a garden make-over.  Claudia  loved my garden when it was at its peak, so I decided to have it restored to its former glory.’  Esme smiled and her eyes twinkled.  ‘I didn’t get the opportunity to thank you, Chief Inspector, for all you’ve done for Charlotte and me.  I know it can’t have been easy.  And, as heartbreaking as it is, at least now we know what happened to both Claudia and Michael.  And why.’

Fitzjohn smiled.  ‘
I have something here that I think will bring a bit of sunshine, Miss Timmons.’  Putting his hand in to his pocket, Fitzjohn brought out the Limoges perfume bottle.

‘Oh.  How wonderful,’ said Esme
her face lighting up.  ‘Thank you so much for returning it to me personally, Chief Inspector.  I know you’re a busy man.’  Esme cradled the bottle on her lap and sat quietly for a moment or two.  ‘You and your Sergeant have been so very kind.  I really appreciate it and so does Charlotte.’

‘How is Charlotte,’ asked Fitzjohn.

‘She’s feeling much better.  She’s spending this weekend at Five Oaks.  She wanted me to go along too, but I thought it would be best if she went alone.’  Esme winked.  ‘I’m sure that she and Rafe have a lot of catching up to do.’

They sat quietly for a moment or two before Esme said,
‘Have you started a new case yet, Chief Inspector?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Well, when you do, and if you need to discuss it with someone, you can always drop by.’  Esme smiled.  ‘I’ve been thinking lately that if I had it all to do over again, I’d choose to be a detective rather than a school teacher.’

******

About the Author

Jill Paterson was born in Yorkshire, UK, and grew up in Adelaide, South Australia before spending 11 years in Ontario, Canada.  On returning to Australia, she settled in Canberra.

After doing an Arts Degree at the Australian National University, she worked at the Australian National University’s School of Law before spending the next 10 years with the Business Council of Australia and the University of New South Wales (ADFA Campus) in the School of Electrical Engineering.

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