The Naked Room (15 page)

CHAPTER 24

Doing Coffee

Detective Senior Sergeant Susan Prescott.

Wednesday: 11.00am.

My nose ran, my throat felt raw and I was cranky. The media were battering the front of Headquarters down, begging for information. What we didn’t give them, they invented. My husband, Harry, had arrived back from Sydney and the information he brought with him was causing a great deal of angst. I lurked in my corner of the room all morning, thinking and snivelling into tissues, while Evan conducted the early briefing. Occasionally a member of my team would poke his or her head in the door, start to speak, take one look at my thunderous expression and promptly vanish.

We had checked out the credentials and backgrounds of all the members of the orchestra, the directors and three administrative staff. I was disappointed to discover there was nothing sinister in the lives of any of them, including Sir James McPherson who had been pestering the Commissioner daily, wanting to know what we were doing and why we hadn’t found Ally Carpenter. I would love to have wrapped my hands around the conductor’s throat and squeezed until his eyes popped out. We’re doing our best, for heaven’s sake!

The detective from the CIB in Townsville who answered my enquiry about the artist, Georgie Hird, rang back at 11am. They had interviewed a friend of Georgie Hird and Eloise who was house-sitting Eloise’s cottage. Irritation oozed down the line. ‘She acted as though she knew nothing, but I’m not convinced, ma’am,’ he said.

‘How can I help you, then?’ I sucked my teeth and twirled my pen in my fingers, wishing he would get on with it.

‘I need everything Eloise Carpenter knows about Georgie Hird. Could you assign someone to interview her for us?’

I agreed to do it myself.

‘Ms Hird died as a result of a long, thin piece of metal. There was a half-finished sweater in a basket in her bedroom, so it seems likely a knitting needle was driven through her heart. One steel number 11 is missing and a single thrust was all it took,’ he said, and then expanded on the details.

‘The forensic report advised she died instantly, there was little blood, but bruise marks on her arms where someone held her tightly. There are abrasions on her body, so we figure she was murdered in the house, carried to the cliff edge and thrown onto the rocks. She’d not been immersed in the sea and not had sexual intercourse prior to her death.’ Then he added a detail which only the killer would know.

After we finished speaking, I sat and turned the case over in my mind. It appeared too much of a coincidence for Ally Carpenter’s godmother to be murdered while the girl was missing. However, on the face of it, a connection between Ally Carpenter’s abduction and the murder of the artist seemed far-fetched. Reason suggested Ally’s abduction was sexual, and the presence of the woman at the nightclub couldn’t preclude that.

It would be easy to leave her body in the bush outside the city, and large freezers have been known to make handy receptacles for inconvenient truths. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but I had a feeling she was still alive. In the meantime, I agreed to question Eloise Carpenter about Georgie Hird.

I picked up the telephone and rang Ms Carpenter’s mobile, which she answered on the second ring. I regretted not having news to give her, but she didn’t seem surprised. Fleetingly, I wondered why not and then plunged into the reason for the call.

‘Ms Carpenter, Townsville CIB has been in touch with me regarding Miss Hird’s murder. I would like to ask you some questions if you feel up to it.’ There was a moment of silence, during which I grabbed a clean tissue and dabbed my dribbling nose.

‘Yes, I’ll be happy to give you any information I can… but I don’t know if there’s much I can tell you,’ she replied.

‘Perhaps it might be better if I met you somewhere and we talk, Ms Carpenter?’

It would be a good excuse to get myself out of the building, leave behind the pests such as the “James” heavyweights from the Pacific Orchestra and the screaming media pack.

We arranged to meet at a small coffee shop, not far from Pamela Miller’s flat.

I got waylaid several times in the effort to escape headquarters, having fought off Evan’s well-meaning efforts to come with me and ignored Ben Taylor’s hopeful glance as I swept by. I was going to pick Eloise Carpenter’s brains and felt I could do better on my own.

It was a fine, autumn day and the air was crisp with the promise of a cold winter. As we sat in the trendy little café opposite a park, making small talk while we waited for our lattés to arrive, I looked closely at Eloise. Her face had taken on a translucent appearance, accentuating her exhaustion. Her eyelids were heavy and red-rimmed; her eyes told of tearful nights.

We confessed to watching our weight, but then decided to throw caution to the wind and have caramel-cream cakes. For a very short time it was possible to forget the reason why we were there, but then reality kicked in.

‘Okay, Senior Sergeant, let’s get it over with,’ said Eloise, as she scooped a spoonful of froth from the top of her coffee and licked the spoon.

‘First of all, how are you holding up? And have you changed your mind about the police liaison officer visiting?’ I asked, after we had taken the first sip of our coffee and bite of cake.

Her eyes widened. ‘No, thank you. I have Pam and my friends to help me. The orchestra administration has been very good to me and there are other friends I can call on. The doctor has given me some sleeping tablets in case I need them.’ Her expression said she wouldn’t take them in a pink fit.

‘Okay. Well, let me know if we can help you in any way, won’t you?’ I smiled reassuringly at her. ‘Are you staying at your goddaughter’s place for awhile?’

‘Er, no. I’m going to stay with a friend.’ She blushed and kept her eyes on her latté, carefully breaking up the froth with her teaspoon.
Oh yeah?

‘You’re not going to stay in Ally’s house?’

‘No, I couldn’t bear it. Pam and I went over, but it was too awful with Ally not there. I just couldn’t stay and certainly not on my own.’ Her mouth wobbled, as she stirred her coffee vigorously, splashing droplets over the rim of the cup. ‘All the time I was there, I expected to hear her come through the door, and I could smell her clothes on the bed, the bathroom—everywhere in that house, I could feel my daughter’s—’ she faltered, searching for the right word, ‘essence.’

She looked at me, mother to mother. ‘It was like when she was a baby, you know? Their scent. I used to wonder how sheep knew their own lamb in a flock of hundreds, but once I had my baby I understood.’

‘Oh yes. I know exactly what you mean.’ I nodded slowly, remembering the birth of my twin daughters. The personal aroma of your children never leaves the archives of a mother’s memory.
Pity the other memories of my first marriage wouldn’t disappear.

Time to return to business. ‘I’ll need your phone number and new address if you’re moving location, then.’ I clicked my biro and waited expectantly. She looked embarrassed. ‘You have my mobile number, Senior Sergeant,’ she pointed out, our personal moment now scotch mist.

‘I do, but I also need to know where you’re staying,’ I said gently. ‘In case we need to collect you to identify Ally,’ was my unspoken thought.

‘Look, I’d rather not say.’ She squirmed. ‘Isn’t it enough you have my mobile number?’

‘We’ll leave it for now,’ I replied. I could have insisted, but I needed her co-operation. The list of questions which my colleague in Townsville requested lay by my plate. ‘All right, now if you don’t mind, I would like to ask you some questions about Miss Hird. Was she ever married or did she have children?’

‘No, Georgie was a strange woman in a lot of ways. She was a lovely person—yes, I know everyone says that about a friend, she wouldn’t have been my closest friend if she wasn’t—but she was also the most self-contained person I have ever known.’ Eloise gazed into her mind’s eye, oblivious to my presence as she remembered her relationship with Georgie Hird.

‘She loved Ally and Pam.’ She smiled. ‘They were more like sisters than friends, you know. Most of the time Pam was at home with me because Rosalind, her mother, had to work nights to make ends meet.’

‘I see. Did Ms Hird have any relatives?’

‘Her mother and father died quite a few years ago, they were in the French Resistance during the war. Georgie inherited an enormous amount of money when they passed. She used to talk about some cousins in France, but apart from them, she was the most—alone—person I have ever met with regard to family. We were both alone, Mrs Prescott, because I had no-one either, so she became my sister and Ally’s aunt.’ Eloise’s face crumpled and she fumbled for a handkerchief.

I waited until she had recovered and then asked, ’Do you know if she had a man friend?’

‘Yes, she did, but I didn’t know his name. Ros and I were sure the creep was married. He came and went on a boat, but I don’t know if he actually owned it. He used to moor it well away from the jetty. But I never saw him. No wait, I did see him once!’

She paused for a moment, looking anxious. ‘You need to understand. Georgie was a very private person when her love life concerned someone she knew she shouldn’t be seeing. If it was above board, she was quite open and flounced around introducing him to everyone. She was one of those “larger than life characters,” you know? But if he was a married man, and much as I loved her I do have to admit she wasn’t selective, she wouldn’t even tell me who she was seeing. As if I’d tell anyone.’ The expression in her eyes told of her hurt.

I waited patiently, saying nothing, waiting for her to finish wiping them with a man-sized handkerchief. ‘Georgie would tell us when an “illegal” man was coming to stay, so we wouldn’t phone or visit while he was there. I know this one used to come to the island and I think she saw him in Brisbane as well as Townsville when she had an exhibition showing, but whether he was actually associated with it, I couldn’t say. Georgie exhibited all over Australia and overseas, so she could have met him anywhere, for that matter.’

She took a long pull at her latté. I nodded encouragingly.

‘But I did see him close-up, one night about a year ago.’ She paused and gazed into her mind’s eye.

‘And?’

‘His back was to me. He’s tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair, but I couldn’t see his face or hear his voice. I’d gone over there to take some eggs to Georgie and she must have forgotten to tell me he was coming. Perhaps it was unexpected. Anyway, as I walked up to the back door I saw them sitting at the kitchen table. He stood up while I was watching.’

‘Did they see you?’

‘No, I ducked back.’ She smiled. ‘I didn’t want to intrude and anyway I couldn’t see much. Clean window panes weren’t important to Georgie.’

I scribbled my notes, before she got the guilts over spying on them. ‘How long had the affair been going on, Ms Carpenter. Do you know?’

‘I think eighteen months, perhaps two years. We were quite surprised it lasted as long as it did.’

‘Why was that?’ I asked.

‘Well, Townsville’s about sixteen hours from Brisbane by road, if that’s where he lives, and then you have to get the boat to and from the island, so it can’t have been that easy to keep it going. Of course they could have flown each way if he had a friend with a small plane,’ she explained uneasily, ‘but I suspect he mostly came by boat.’

‘So, in all that time you and Mrs Miller never found out his name or anything else about him?’

‘No.’ She wriggled. ‘As I said, Georgie could be very close-mouthed about the affairs she shouldn’t have been having. In twenty-six years she’s probably had at least— oh, heavens—fifteen, maybe twenty love affairs that I know of.’

‘On average, how long would you say Ms Hird’s relationships lasted?’

‘Well, it varied. At least one was for several years and then she found out he had been living with his wife all along. Most only lasted a few months.’

‘Why did Ms Hird never marry?’

Eloise grinned. ‘She maintained she never wanted to be tied down. She always said that since she liked to paint at three in the morning a husband would be more of an encumbrance than a comfort.’ Her face lit up as she smiled at the memory.

‘Can you think of a reason why anyone might murder Ms Hird?’ I asked, watching her closely.

‘No, I can’t.’ Eloise looked me right in the eyes. ‘There’s no reason I know of as to why she would be murdered.’

Oh yes you do.

‘Has Rosalind Miller been interviewed?’ she asked me quickly, before looking down at her empty coffee cup. I leaned forward and steepled my hands.

‘Yes, Townsville CIB questioned her, but she didn’t mention seeing Ms Hird’s latest lover. ‘

She eyed me warily. ‘Rosalind lived on the mainland. It’s unlikely she would have seen him.’

‘Did you ever see the boat and its name?’ I asked.

‘I saw it on several occasions at night when I was walking my dog along the cliff near the house. It’s a big white one, and no, it’s never been close enough to shore to see the name.’ So he, or his employer are pretty wellheeled.

‘Did Ms Hird have an agent?’

‘She did at one time, but they fell out. Georgie did all her own business in recent years.’

‘Do you know why? What was the agent’s name?’ I asked. This sounded promising.

‘It was a woman, but it was a long time ago and I can’t remember her name. It would probably be among Georgie’s papers. Something about her not doing the right thing.’

My Townsville counterpart had divulged other information. Georgie Hird had not forgotten her pseudo family in her will. Ally inherited her cottage and most of its contents, Pamela Miller her jewellery. Jessica Rallison would receive several paintings, of which there were copious numbers left to the local branch of the RSPCA. Eloise and Rosalind Miller were to share her cash and considerable investments. Eloise inherited the current dog as well. I hoped Georgie Hird had made this arrangement with her previously, but I suspected there would always be room for one more animal in Eloise’s home.

I had every intention of asking her to come to the station, so we could interview her in depth and have her sign a statement. ‘Would you like another cup of coffee?’ I suggested, hoping to keep her relaxed.