The Charlton Affair (26 page)

Darren said, “There’s more. The police think that Stillman might be using Phoebe to get Michael to transfer the money over.”

Charlie’s mind reeled in relief, “That means he might keep her alive. At least for the next few days until he gets the money.”

“Yes, but what about Mark Mitchell?”

Charlie’s momentary relief disappeared.

*****

Charlie and Amanda pressed the buzzer outside Roman’s house. They heard the sound of a large dog barking as the buzzer sounded, releasing the gate lock. Roman, untidily dressed and exhausted, met them at the door. A large Rottweiler was with him, straining to get past him and investigate them. Roman held his collar firmly.

“Do you have any news?” Roman asked hopefully.

“Some, but don’t get excited, they haven’t found them,” Charlie replied, eyeing the dog a little apprehensively.

Roman replied dejectedly, “You’d better come in then.” He let the dog go. Instantly he bounded over to Charlie and sniffed at her, before doing the same to Amanda. He didn’t growl but it was clear he was unhappy at their presence. Charlie froze, unsure what the massive dog would do if she moved. He looked as though he weighed as at least as much as she did. Amanda merely leaned over and patted his head, saying, “Hello boy!”

He tolerated her affection, but didn’t react.

“It’s OK, Leo,” Roman said, seeing Leo’s protective stance.

Leo relaxed and wagged his tail at Amanda before returning to Roman’s side.

“What a beautiful dog! And so well trained,” Amanda said to Roman.

“Yes, Mark got him to protect Phoebe,” Roman replied, choking up when he said Mark and Phoebe’s names.

Charlie felt awful that she had ever doubted Mark.

Roman led them to his lounge room. Charlie looked around, surprised at how messy the room was. It was very unlike Roman to be messy. Then again, it was unlike Roman to have a dog and to be dressed untidily. She reflected that the whole situation was making a mess of them all.

Roman sat down on the leather lounge and Leo promptly jumped up next to him and curled up, placing his huge head on Roman’s leg. The dog took up a large section of the lounge. Charlie’s eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Tell me the news,” Roman said, stroking Leo’s head.

The two women sat in the armchairs.

“The police have no idea where they are, but they know the kidnapper is Stillman Charlton, Michael’s older brother,” Charlie explained.

Roman looked confused. He said, “If they know who it is, why can’t they find them?”

Amanda elaborated, “They know who he is, but not who he’s pretending to be these days. He’s been in hiding for more than twenty years now. He might be trying to get at Michael for any reason, but the police think he might be after the money, too.”

Roman nodded. Charlie thought he looked completely washed out, as though he didn’t have the energy to respond. She sympathized. Clearly neither of them had been able to sleep much last night.

As she leaned forward, Charlie said to Roman, “If the police are right, it means Stillman has to keep Phoebe alive until Michael transfers the money.”

Roman’s face was momentarily animated in hope and longing. Then his features clouded over and he sobbed out, “He doesn’t have to keep Mark alive. Michael doesn’t care about Mark.”

Amanda quickly interjected, “I can see why you think that, but it makes no sense for him to have taken Mark too if he was going to kill him. He could have done that at Southbank and spared himself the difficulty of carrying him out.”

Roman looked at her and sighed heavily. He replied, “He probably just wanted the police to think it was Mark who was responsible, which they did.”

Amanda shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Charlie replied, “They don’t think that anymore.”

“Good,” said Roman.

Amanda rose, “Is it OK if I make coffee for everyone, Roman?”

“Go ahead,” Roman replied uncaringly, still patting Leo.

*****

The MIR was convened in an orderly fashion. The participants were grateful for the take away coffees that had mysteriously materialized.

Inspector Marsh banged on a desk, “Quiet!” he shouted.

The room fell silent.

“Price, update everyone,” Marsh demanded.

Price explained the DNA results. The room erupted into exclamations and chatter.

“Shut up!” Marsh barked at them.

Instant silence ensued.

“Middleton, recap the information on Stillman Charlton and give everyone an update about the gym events,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Sally replied. She stood up and summarized everything she knew about Stillman and what had happened at the gym and afterwards for everyone.

Marsh announced, “We have a BOLO out for Morrow and his car. There’s nothing concrete to tie him in, but I’m willing to chase every muscular man at this stage. Cooper, I’m going to give you some extra staff to help you find that white van.”

Cooper looked a little less stressed at that announcement.

Sally stood up, looking at the Inspector.

“Yes Middleton?”

“Sir, I’ve just recalled something. When Morrow was at the gym, he referred to the toilet as the head. Perhaps he has a military background? Might explain where he went all those years ago and why the missing persons investigation came up empty?”

“Yes, good thinking Middleton,” Marsh replied. He looked around the room. “If anyone else has any suggestions, now’s the time,” he said in his usual gruff manner.

A hand went up in the background. It was a junior uniformed Constable, almost shaking in nervous anxiety. Marsh smiled with amused sarcasm, “Well, well Constable,” he said, “and what have you got to offer?”

Sally cringed inside, hoping the Constable came up with something worthwhile. There would be humiliation in spades if she didn’t.

“Sir,” she began shyly, “I was thinking that if I was Stillman, and I had Phoebe stashed away somewhere, I’d be contacting Michael Rawlins to get him to give me the money…” she trailed off, her voice getting smaller as she finished. She shrank back into her chair, as Marsh glared furiously at her.

He stared at his staff, “Out of the mouths of babes,” he said, sneering at his senior officers.

“What’s your name Constable?”

“Poulsen, Sir.”

“Poulsen, from now on you work with Middleton. Middleton already came up with that angle, but you’re the only other one to think of it so far. Obviously you’re smarter than a room full of detectives.” Marsh looked sourly around the room.

Poulsen looked extremely gratified. The detectives in the room looked disgruntled.

Inspector Marsh glared at them all, “I want all of you to start using your brains,” he admonished them.

Marsh handed out new assignments, “Price, get a team together to surveil Michael Rawlins around the clock. I want a phone tap. I want access to his emails. Find out who his accountant is and watch him too. I want to know the moment anyone tries to move that money.”

Marsh continued, “Phillips, get Stanforth in here and get him looking at pictures of white vans. We need to narrow down the search if possible. Cooper, start looking earlier in time, from 0200 hours and look for white vans, but don’t stop looking at other vehicles.” Cooper nodded.

Marsh added, “And Middleton, get the military to start looking for Stillman Charlton or someone of his description in their records. Go all the way back to when he disappeared. Everyone else help out with the CCTV.”

The room erupted in chatter and Marsh shouted, “Be back here at 2245 hours. Get moving. Lives are in the balance!”

Chapter Seventeen

Sally sat chewing her pen as she contemplated their next move.

“How soon do you think they’ll be able to get the information?” Poulsen asked Sally.

“Depends,” Sally replied, “it’ll help if I get the Inspector to follow it up with a call to their big-wigs, but they’re never fast at doing anything,” she sighed.

Poulsen frowned, asking Sally, “Don’t they realize what’s at stake?”

Sally looked at the innocent face of the young woman and sighed. Gita Poulsen looked to be in her early twenties. Fit and attractive, the Constable was only just out of her first year and confirmed in her role. Tall and blonde, she reminded Sally of a large eager puppy. She struggled to remember her early years in the police and wondered if she had been as naive as Poulsen seemed to be.

“Yes, they know that lives are in the balance. The military just have so many processes and procedures when it comes to getting information. And it’s Sunday evening…”

Sally and Phillips had planned to get more information out of Everett at some stage but they had been far too busy. Now Sally was desperate to find out more about Morrow. After making a snap decision, she threw her pen down on the desk and stood up.

“Grab the car keys,” she said to Poulsen.

She walked briskly toward the lift foyer. Poulsen hurriedly followed, keys in hand. In the car, Sally referred to a page in her notebook.

“Head toward Bowen Hills,” she directed the young Constable.

“Where are we going?” Poulsen asked.

“Not now,” Sally replied, dialing Phillips.

He answered on the second ring, “Yes?”

“Are you done with Stanforth?”

“Cooper can finish it. What’s up?”

“Meet me at Everett’s place ASAP.”

“Right,” he replied, ending the call.

“Who’s Everett?” Poulsen asked after the call was finished.

Sally explained briefly, “He knows Morrow and he knows Henri Sanchez. Maybe he knows more than he’s been letting on.”

Poulsen nodded. Soon, she pulled up to the address Sally had given her. They didn’t have to wait long for Phillips. Phillips pulled up just as they arrived.
He drove like a maniac again
, Sally thought.

As the three of them approached the apartment block, Sally saw a silhouette that looked like Everett staring at them from a first floor balcony. He quickly disappeared inside, pulling the curtains closed.

She said to Phillips, “Head to the car park in case he decides to bolt. We’ll head up.”

He nodded and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Sally knew that if Everett ran Phillips would enjoy detaining him.

Sally and Poulsen made their way up to Everett’s apartment. Banging loudly on the door, Sally called out, “Open up! Police!”

There was no response.

“Come on,” Sally said to Poulsen, as she turned to head back down.

They exited the building in time to see Phillips forcing Everett to walk up the car park ramp toward the front of the building. Phillips had Everett’s arm in a painful hold behind his back as he shoved him forward. Poulsen ran over to assist Phillips. Together they escorted him back up to his apartment, Sally leading the way.

Once inside, Sally handed a pair of latex gloves to Poulsen and said, “Search the place.”

Poulsen nodded and asked, “Am I looking for anything in particular?”

“Keep an open mind, but don’t be surprised to find steroids.”

Poulsen began her search.

Everett groaned, “You said you wouldn’t search my place.”

“And you said you’d cooperate,” Phillips replied aggressively, standing over Everett who sat on his couch, looking utterly miserable.

Sally smiled at him, “Well Tim, looks like you’re in deep shit. I can tell from your face that my Constable is going to find something interesting.”

Everett sank lower into the couch.

Phillips sneered, “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to leave anything here after we caught up with you at the gym.” Looking at Sally he smiled and said, “The stupid ones are so much more fun.”

Sally jabbed Everett’s leg with her foot, “Look up.”

He looked up at her.

“Now what’s she going to find, eh?”

Beaten, Everett admitted, “She’s gonna find my juice stash, in the bedroom.”

Just then Poulsen called out from a bedroom, “Detective Sergeant, I’ve found something.”

Sally went to see what Poulsen had found. Poulsen directed her attention to the bottom of the wardrobe. Sitting inside a large box were commercial quantities of steroids along with a large number of syringes, and surprisingly, thousands of dollars in cash. She directed Poulsen to search the rest of the apartment.

Sally left the bedroom wearing a big smile on her tired face. Sauntering up to Everett she said, “You’re well and truly fucked! There’s no way all that’s for personal use. No one needs that many syringes for themselves. And you’ve got thousands in cash in there, too.”

Phillip guffawed. He said laughingly, “Start talking now, idiot. It’s the only thing that might keep you out of prison.”

Everett caved in completely and said, “What do you want to know?”

“Who’s your supplier?” Phillips demanded.

Everett, utterly devastated, asked with desperation, “Can you protect me?”

Sally nodding her assent at Phiilips.

“We can organize witness protection for you,” Phillips replied.

Everett nodded, “It’s Morrow. He’ll kill me if he finds out I dogged on him. I mean it.”

Sally said, “Does Morrow supply everyone at the gym?”

Everett replied, “He uses me and Sanchez to supply people at that gym and other ones.”

“Do you think Sanchez is afraid of him?” Sally asked.

“He’s crazy if he’s not. Morrow is a cold bastard. It’s like he has no feelings at all.”

Phillips broke in, “Have you ever met Sanchez’s sister?”

“Yeah, man, lots of times. She was one hot chick.”

“At the gym?”

“Yeah,” Everett said.

“Her name wasn’t on the membership list,” Sally said.

“They used to let her in as a favor to Sanchez. She was never a paid up member.”

“And did Morrow know her?”

“Everyone knew her, man.” Everett replied, “But no one went near her. I mean Sanchez would’ve killed any bloke that tried.”

“What about Morrow?” Sally asked, “Would Sanchez have killed him?”

Everett shook his head, “Not if he wanted to live.”

Poulsen came out of the kitchen holding up a set of car keys. She announced, “These were in the bottom of a drawer.”

Sally looked at Everett, “What are they for?”

“Morrow’s van. Sometimes he lets me use it to do deliveries and stuff. Sometimes he leaves it here underneath my building. I dunno why.”

Phillips said, “What color is the van?”

“White.”

Sally demanded, “Describe it.”

“It’s got those whited out windows, like it used to carry food or cold stuff. It’s one of those old Ford Econovans, pretty beaten up, but it goes OK.”

“Is it here now?”

“Yeah, in the back corner of the car park.”

“How long’s it been here?”

“He dropped it off late yesterday afternoon,” Everett explained.

Phillips said, “And did you drive him back somewhere?”

“Yeah he got me to drop him at a street corner in Mayne.”

Sally said earnestly to Everett, “The best way to protect you is to lock you up, understand?”

Everett baulked, “No way.”

“Listen. Witness protection takes a while to organize. You really want to be out here until then?”

Everett swallowed, “Can you at least keep me at the watch house and not in remand?”

Phillips nodded, “We can do that.”

Sally left the lounge room and went out onto Everett’s balcony. She telephoned for scenes of crimes to come and examine the apartment and the van urgently.

When she came back inside, she said, “Tim, I’m going to arrest you. Then we’ll take you back to the station and interview you.”

Everett said nothing, but his expression reflected his deflation.

She stood over him, “Timothy Everett, you are under arrest for possession of an illegal drug. You are not obliged to say or do anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say or do may be used in evidence. Do you understand?”

Everett nodded in acquiescence.

“Go back to the station with Detective Senior Constable Phillips,” she said.

To Phillips she said, “Do the interview as soon as you get back, but let Marsh know first. I’m going to stay and look at that van.”

Phillips placed Everett in handcuffs and escorted him out.

“Poulsen, bring the keys. We’re going to look at the van.”

The two women descended to the underground car park, where they found the white van parked in a dimly lit corner. After telling Poulsen to go and get a torch from their car, Sally donned latex gloves and carefully opened the sliding door on the side of the van. The only thing it contained was a flat mover’s trolley with long heavy handles. Heavier and broader than a dolly, it was the sort of thing movers used to transport heavy flat objects. It was strapped to the cargo barrier. 

Sally could smell a musty dampness mixed with the astringent odor of detergent coming from inside the van. Peering in, she could see it had been hosed out very recently. Disappointed, she opened the passenger door and looked in the front section. She saw nothing remarkable and then opened the glove compartment, looking for any registration papers. There were none.

Poulsen arrived with the torch. Together they examined the back of the van. They saw no obvious hairs, blood or anything else that would link the van to the disappearance of Phoebe Rawlins and Mark Mitchell. Disappointed that she would have to wait for the forensic examination, she closed up the van and peeled off her latex gloves.

She telephoned in to get the registration name and address. The vehicle was registered to a company. The address was care of an accountant in Toowong. Frustrated, she signaled Poulsen to follow her and they returned to their vehicle to await the scenes of crimes team. She telephoned the Inspector to update him while they waited.

Marsh ordered, “Leave Poulsen there to wait for the forensics. Get her to call you if they find any traces of anything in that van. I want you to find the accountant ASAP.”

“Yes, sir.”

*****

Phoebe’s head ached less that night. The throbbing had subsided and it was no longer so tender to touch. She was not a tense, as she knew she would be alone until the morning. Finally able to think clearly, she started to go over what she could remember from the day before.

She recalled everything about moving into her new apartment, and that Roman had gone out to get food for her and Mark.

Suddenly, she cried aloud, “Oh my God! Mark!”

What did he do with Mark?
Her heart raced as the abhorrent possibilities came to her. She wondered if he’d killed him at her apartment and left him there, or if he was here somewhere in another airless cell.
Is he still alive?
With her head in her hands, she sobbed for Mark, and for herself.

*****

Inspector Marsh shouted “Shut up!”

The chatter in the MIR ceased instantly. The night crews were fresh and rested while the day crews looked red-eyed and limp. Almost everyone clutched a mug of coffee. Marsh’s eyes were hanging out of his head with exhaustion as he stood in front of them all. Sally felt much the same way, but she was as determined as Marsh was to keep going now that she was getting closer.

“Right, you lot, we’re this close,” Marsh announced, holding his forefinger and thumb up, only an inch apart. “Pay attention. We have the white van on CCTV at approximately 0230 hours, heading to the Southbank area. We have the same van leaving the area at about 0430 hours that morning. It came back again at about 1430 hours the next day and left again at about 1525.”

The crowd nodded appreciatively. Sally wasn’t sure what they appreciated more, the fact that they had the vehicle now, or that they no longer had to examine endless reams of CCTV footage.

“Forensics have found minute traces of blood on one of the door handles and some fibers in the rear of the van. We’re waiting for the DNA analysis but they say the blood is O-positive and the fibers look like they come from a rug. We should know soon.”

Marsh continued, “The military have come back with several files. In one of them, a young man they thought was aged sixteen enlisted in the Navy almost thirty years ago. He stayed in the Navy for twelve years. He used the name Stephen Morrow. We’re having his records sent over.”

Suddenly, the anticipation in the room felt like static electricity dancing on Sally’s skin. Everyone knew they were almost there. The primal urge of the chase coupled with the intense need to rescue the victims in time had electrified them all. They just needed to find the one fact, the one bit of information that would lead them to Morrow, and to Phoebe Rawlins and Mark Mitchell.