Tell the Truth (4 page)

Stacey Durham's first drawer held none of these things. Instead Ella found a woman's silver dress watch with engraving on the back that read
With all my love, James.
The strap was delicate, the face small and decorated with diamonds. Underneath were three paperbacks by Jeffrey Deaver and a clean folded white handkerchief. Ella shook the books by the spines and fanned the pages but nothing fell out. She pulled the drawer from the unit, turned it over, checked the sides and back for taped-on letters, notes, money or drugs – all things she'd found in previous searches. Nothing.

From the second drawer she took pink silk pyjamas that smelled like fabric softener, two more Deaver paperbacks, and then there, right at the bottom, saw a small hardcover notebook. She sat back and opened it, hoping for revelations about the miserable truth of Stacey's marriage, her secret lover, her plans to leave or divorce.

The first few pages had been torn out and the rest were blank. She held it to the light and could just make out the slight indentations left by the writing on the missing pages. The lab could work on that, and she put the notebook in an evidence bag to take with them.

She checked the sides and bottom of the second drawer, found nothing, and replaced the drawers and items as they'd been before.

She looked across at Murray. ‘Find anything?'

‘Nope. They're no hoarders.'

Ella went into the bathroom. A pink toothbrush stood alone in the holder, and she guessed James's was still packed from his trip. She bagged the toothbrush and a red hairbrush for DNA, then searched the drawers and cabinet. Over-the-counter cold and flu medication, mouthwash, most of a packet of Valium a year out of date and in Stacey's name, steroid cream with James's name on the label and instructions about applying daily to the rash, a box of the contraceptive pill prescribed to Stacey. The last tablet had been popped out on Saturday.

She went through James's bedside table, then together she and Murray searched the ornate chest of drawers. Nothing but clean folded clothes. They lifted the quilt and sheets, looked under the bed, felt along the frame, checked behind the chest. Murray found a stepladder in a cupboard along the hall and Ella stood on it to check the surfaces and depths of the high shelves in the wardrobe. No diaries, no photos of lovers, no drugs, no money, no hidden letters, nothing.

‘It feels a bit too tidy,' Murray said.

She nodded. ‘Like someone knew we'd be looking.'

They went into the other rooms. One was a spare bedroom, the queen bed made up with a blue quilt and valance, the carpet clean and unmarked, the built-in and bedsides empty. The other was a home office with a computer on a desk in the middle of the room, a printer on a shelf underneath, a wheeled chair on a plastic mat, a bookshelf full of folders and manuals on one wall, and three four-drawer metal filing cabinets along the opposite wall by the window. Ella opened each drawer and looked in at files marked ‘Staff super', ‘Invoices', ‘Forms'. Murray moved the mouse and looked at the computer monitor.

‘Lots of work stuff,' he said.

Ella went through the few papers in the desk's in-tray. Invoices for orders of computer parts, shop electricity and phone bills. The bin by the chair was empty.

Murray pulled folders out of the bookcase and leafed through the contents. ‘Nothing of hers that I can see.'

‘Let's bring him in and have a chat,' Ella said.

FOUR

J
ames Durham wanted coffee. Simon said he'd make it. Ella and Murray stood in the living room, the dog skittering between them and Simon in the kitchen, while James stared at a shelf of framed photos.

He picked one up and passed it over. ‘This is probably the clearest.'

Ella looked at James and Stacey in thick woollen jumpers on a winter beach, dark clouds and white surf behind them, faces lit by smiles. Stacey's grin was wide, her face symmetrical and attractive, her teeth white and small and square. Her dark hair reached her shoulders. It was a good shot. Once James was cut out it'd work well for the media release.

James glanced at the evidence bags in Ella's hand, one containing the hair and toothbrushes, the other the notebook. ‘Did you find anything in your search?'

‘A few things,' Ella said. If he himself had done the cleaning, he might've seen the notebook, he might've been the one who tore out the pages, he might know what had been written there. If he hadn't seen it, it was good for him to wonder. ‘We need a sample of Stacey's handwriting.'

‘Oh.' He looked around, then left the room. He brought back a calendar with people's birthdays written on it in a tall narrow hand. ‘This is all I've got.'

‘Thanks,' she said. ‘Why was Stacey prescribed Valium?'

‘Because of work. She went through a stage where she couldn't sleep after nightshift. The doctor said to take them when she really had to, but I don't think she took many, in the end. She said they made her feel really dopey.'

She wrote that down. ‘Does Stacey use the computer in the office?'

‘No, that's mine. She has her own. A nice little laptop.'

‘Any idea where it is?' Ella asked.

‘It's usually here in the house.' He looked around the room. ‘Here on the lounge or in the kitchen.'

‘We didn't find it,' Ella said.

‘Then I don't know where it is.'

‘Might it be at her work?' Murray asked.

‘No, she had it here at home on Friday and she's not back on duty until tomorrow. I can't think of any reason she'd go in there with it over the weekend, let alone leave it there.'

‘Does she have an address book?' Ella said. They had the details of the three friends, but she wanted to see who else was in it.

He shook his head. ‘She stores everything on her phone and her laptop.'

‘What about a will?' Murray asked.

James nodded.

‘Everything goes to you?'

‘Of course. I'm her husband.'

‘Life insurance?' Ella asked.

‘Yes. We took it out together when we got married.'

‘How much?'

‘We started at five hundred thousand each, to cover the mortgage. I guess it's gone up since then.'

Half a million, Ella thought. ‘Plus she's no doubt got cover through her super?'

‘I suppose so,' he said.

‘How's the business? In any financial trouble?'

He glared at her. ‘What are you suggesting?'

Before she could answer, his mobile buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. ‘It's a text from Stacey's phone but it says . . .' His face filled with thunder. ‘
You know what this is about and you won't see her again if you don't do the right thing
.'

Ella took the phone out of his hand and scrolled down but there was no more. Murray stepped away to call the office on his own mobile and check the tracking of the mobile signal.

‘This is bullshit.' James's hands were in fists by his sides. ‘I don't have the first fucking clue what that means.'

Ella typed a message.
Who is this?

You know what this is about
, the next message repeated.
It's time to tell the truth.

This is Detective Marconi of the NSW Police
, Ella typed.
Where is Stacey?

A moment later an answer arrived.
James knows everything
.

Explain what that means
, Ella sent back.

Tell him to tell the truth.

Please explain that to me
, she sent. When there was no reply she showed James the exchange.

‘I don't know a thing about it,' he said.

Murray was still on his own phone, talking in a low voice.

Simon came in with a tray, the dog at his heels. ‘What's happened?'

‘Have you had other messages like this?' Ella asked James.

‘I'd have told you, wouldn't I?' He took the phone back and started a message.

‘I'd suggest you don't send anything right now,' Ella said. ‘It could make things worse.'

He kept thumbing then hit send. ‘She's missing, there's blood all through her car, and some arsehole's claiming I'm the reason why. I can't see how saying I'm going to make them pay could possibly make anything worse.'

‘What happened?' Simon said again.

James screwed up his face. ‘Some prick's telling lies.'

‘Like with the complaint?' Simon said.

‘Exactly,' James said. ‘It's just like with the anonymous complaint. I said at the time you lot should've worked a bit harder. That Libke did nothing, and now look what's happened.'

‘There's no evidence that the two are linked,' Ella said.

‘There's no evidence of anything yet,' he snapped. ‘And isn't that what you're doing here? Looking for any proof that I did something to her? I know you always look at the husband first. I can tell you now that there's nothing to find because I had nothing to do with whatever's happened. I love my wife like I love nothing else on this earth, and I'll do anything to find her.'

He headed out of the room and up the stairs.

Ella and Murray followed, Murray saying in a low voice, ‘They located Stacey's mobile in Stanmore, then it was turned off.'

In the office James yanked open a filing-cabinet drawer and dug out a manila folder. ‘Here.'

Ella looked inside. The couple of stapled pages were print-outs of email correspondence between James and Senior Constable E. Libke about the anonymous complaint. Libke stated that she had looked into the matter and was unable to find any evidence of any wrongdoing, and that the source of the complaint remained unknown.

‘I rang and asked her how hard she'd looked before she came up with that “remained unknown”,' James said. ‘She said she had to move on to other cases, but to get in touch if it happened again. Pathetic.'

Ella knew what it was like to hit an investigative dead-end, but at the same time, and despite her suspicion of James, she couldn't help wondering if a more thorough job back then could in some way have prevented the current situation.

James took back the manila folder and slapped it down onto the desk. ‘Whatever's happened to her, I had nothing to do with it. So if you stop looking at me, you can spend more time and effort on whoever really did it.'

*

Outside, the uniforms had left. Ella and Murray locked the calendar and evidence bags in their boot. The wind had dropped and the morning was still and sunlit.

‘Those texts are something else,' Murray said. ‘Still, they show it can't be James himself sending them. Or his sidekick Simon.'

‘It's not like there couldn't be another accomplice,' Ella said. ‘How close did the locator get?'

‘Somewhere between the railway line and Parramatta Road. A few hundred square metres.'

Stanmore today, and Homebush last night. It didn't take a genius to know that phones could be tracked, so the texter would no doubt keep it turned off, but with a bit of luck over time they'd be able to make out a pattern from where the texts were sent, no matter how vague: locations around a central point suggesting a possible home base.

Next up, though, they'd be talking to the neighbours. James had told them that he and Stacey were friendly with the people on both sides, and on a ‘smile and wave' relationship basis with other people in the street.

They started with the house directly to the right of the Durhams'. The garage stood open and a brown EH Holden was parked half in, half out, with the bonnet up.

Ella knocked on the back panel. ‘Hello?'

A woman in an old khaki workshirt and cut-off jeans peered around from the engine. Her short hair was grey and her face was deeply lined. Ella guessed her to be in her mid-seventies.

She gave them a loose salute with a spanner. ‘Hello to you.'

‘Detectives Ella Marconi and Murray Shakespeare,' Ella said. ‘Do you have a moment?'

‘Absolutely. Come on in.' The woman put down the spanner and wiped her hands on the tail of her shirt. The garage smelled of oil. A washing machine rattled through the spin cycle in the corner. A fluorescent bar lit the grime of the car's engine and the new battery that sat on the concrete floor. ‘I'm Esther
Cooper. I saw the car out there before, and the constables.
I hope nothing's happened to the Durhams?'

‘We have a few questions about them,' Ella said. ‘Could you tell us when you last saw either James or Stacey?'

Esther Cooper frowned. ‘Are they okay or not?'

‘James is fine,' Murray said. ‘Stacey we're not sure about.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘She's missing and might be in danger,' Ella said. ‘So we need to find out who saw her last, and when.'

‘Righto,' Esther said, businesslike. ‘I last saw James on Friday, when he came home from work. I was weeding out the front there and he waved as he drove into their garage. I last saw Stacey yesterday evening when she went out in her car.'

‘Was she alone?' Ella asked.

‘As far as I could see. The driver's window was down and she was playing music. I was watering as she went by. I waved and she smiled.'

‘She didn't look upset?'

‘No. She looked fine. Big smile.'

‘What time was that?'

‘Between five and half past,' Esther said.

‘Did you see or hear her come home?' Murray asked. ‘Either yesterday or today?'

‘No.'

Ella asked, ‘Would you normally be able to hear if they were home? Or when their cars came and went?'

‘Depends. If I was in the garden there, or in the garage or front room, I'd probably hear the cars. Anywhere else in the house, I wouldn't necessarily hear a thing.'

‘Have you noticed anything unusual happening in the street lately?' Ella said. ‘Strange people or cars lurking about?'

Esther shook her head. ‘And I do notice things like that. My old Tom used to tell me I was a stickybeak. I called it “interested”.'

Ella said, ‘How well do you know James and Stacey?'

‘We've been friends since they moved in, two or three years ago. They're nice people and we get along. When Tom collapsed last year Stacey did everything she could to save him. They came to the funeral, and have me over to tea at least once a week since then. James fixes my computer when I run into problems, and Stacey and I help each other out if one of us runs out of milk or eggs or whatever when we're cooking. We both like to bake, see. I give her what I make and she takes it to work.'

‘Have you ever seen or heard them fight?' Murray asked.

‘Not once,' Esther said. ‘In fact, they used to make my Tom uncomfortable with all their holding hands and pecks on the cheek. Tom was old school – reckoned that was for the bedroom.'

Old old school, Ella thought. She said, ‘What are the other neighbours like? Are there any disputes going on, things like that?'

‘Everyone's lovely except the grumpy bastard over the way.' Her face darkened. ‘Bill Willetts. Lived there almost as long as Tom and I've been here, close to twenty years. Never got on with anyone, and he doesn't like dogs. When Stacey walks little Gomez and he stops at the trees on the nature strip, Willetts shouts out the window. Says it kills the grass. It's not his grass anyway.' She shook her head. ‘Obsessive unpleasant little man.'

‘What number is he?' Murray asked.

‘Fourteen.' Esther pointed across the street.

Ella saw a house with cream siding, grey roof tiles, and rows of tightly pruned topiary along the front of the house and on the nature strip.

She said, ‘Did either Stacey or James confide in you?'

‘James didn't, but that's a man thing. Stacey used to come over during the day sometimes, when James was at work, and talk about cases she'd done. She said James could be squeamish, and sometimes she wanted to talk and he'd put his hands over his ears. It'd be more after nightshift that she'd come in. I think being so tired made her dwell on it. She'd bring Gomez – she adores that dog – and we'd sit on the back patio and drink tea with lemon in it and look out over the garden and she'd just talk. Sometimes she'd doze off. I'd just read. Or doze off myself too.'

‘It was always just about cases?' Ella said.

‘More or less,' Esther said.

‘Did she ever talk about problems she was having with anyone at work or anywhere else?' Murray asked.

‘We'd sometimes laugh about the bureaucracy in the system,' Esther said. ‘I used to be a teacher, and government departments never change. But she never said that anyone in particular was giving her trouble.' She looked at Ella. ‘When you said missing, what did you mean?'

‘Her car was found this morning and we've not been able to locate her,' Ella said.

‘She could be shopping or anything.'

‘There was human blood in the car,' Murray said.

‘How much?'

‘A lot,' he said. ‘Around a litre and a half.'

‘You're not serious.'

‘That's the estimate of our Crime Scene person.'

Esther sagged against the front of the car. ‘So something's happened to her. Someone's done something to her.'