The Port Fairy Murders (25 page)

‘Port Fairy,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been there. I know where it is. It’s the other side of Warrnambool.’

‘I’ve never been there either. The other side of Warrnambool — it might as well be Timbuktu.’

Ros Lord, who’d discreetly withdrawn after she’d handed Joe the phone, reappeared and asked if anything was wrong.

‘Nothing’s wrong, Mum. We have to pack a few things. We’ll be away for a couple of days.’

‘But where are you going, darling?’

‘We’re being sent to Port Fairy, Mrs Lord. There’s been a murder.’

Helen would never have been so explicit with her mother, and she expected her to object to her daughter being involved in something as sordid as murder.

‘I
do
work in Homicide, Mum.’ She was defensive, even though Mrs Lord hadn’t said a word.

‘I know you do.’ She paused, and then, to Helen’s mortification, she said firmly, in front of Joe, ‘I am proud of you, Helen, and I know that your father would have been proud, too.’

Helen blushed and was unable to appreciate the compliment calmly. She mumbled about needing to pack, and hurried upstairs. Joe found himself similarly mortified when Ros Lord put her hand on his arm and said, ‘Don’t worry, Joe, Helen will look after you.’

He had no idea how to respond, so he said, ‘Thank you,’ and wondered immediately why he should be grateful that Ros Lord saw him as some sort of damaged child. He went upstairs to pack.

A LARGE SIGN
at the entrance to Spencer Street Station read, ‘Is your journey really necessary?’ The fact that a priority permit had been organised quickly for Joe and Helen was proof enough that this journey was really necessary. The train to Warrnambool, and on to Port Fairy, was scheduled to leave at 9.30 am, and they made it in plenty of time. In any event, it didn’t actually leave until 10.00 am and was unexpectedly crowded. Apparently, large numbers of people were making necessary journeys. Joe was glad that he’d escaped having to walk into Russell Street wearing a suit that was not his own, and the quality of which reinforced this fact. Neither Helen nor Joe had had time to assimilate the situation. A solid five hours on the train would rectify that. They’d gone straight from Kew to Spencer Street, so the only information they had was what Titus had told Joe. There’d been two murders, of a brother and sister, and a suspect was being held for questioning. The suspect, who was the deceaseds’ uncle, was problematic, as he was severely mentally deficient. They were to be under the direction of Detective Inspector Halloran, and they were to be accommodated at Douglas House in Gipps Street. This was close to the courthouse and the police station.

‘Is this an expression of Inspector Lambert’s confidence in us,’ Joe asked, ‘or are we all that’s available?’

‘I expect it’s an expression of confidence in me, at any rate.’

Helen smiled to reassure Joe that she was kidding. She’d noticed that his sense of humour had been blunted recently, that he was apt to put the worst possible construction on things.

‘Actually, Joe, we’re not all that was available. Inspector Lambert could easily have sent someone else — someone from the CIB even, if Homicide was too over-stretched. And there’s Sergeant Reilly, of course. I could be sitting opposite him right now and wondering if there was going to be a third corpse before we’d finished investigating the first two.’

‘He really isn’t that bad.’

‘Let’s not go down that rabbit hole again. All I’m saying is, I’m glad you’re sitting where Reilly might have been sitting.’

‘Why do I feel like we’re a couple of lame ducks?’

Helen’s mood began to darken.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I’m not being rude, Helen, but look at me. Do you think they’re not going to wonder why someone who looks like he’s been hit by a car has been sent to investigate a crime they probably think they’re perfectly capable of investigating on their own?’

‘You said, “We’re a couple of lame ducks.” I presume you mean that the fact that I’m a woman is my handicap.’

‘You know you’re going to be treated as an oddity by those country coppers. They’re not going to make this easy for you.’

‘You have a low opinion of other men, Joe. At least that’s something we have in common.’

‘I’m just being realistic.’

‘I’m in a constant state of readiness to meet my opposition. I have no illusions, Joe. I’m not going to win their respect, no matter what I do. I’m a novelty, a sideshow freak. Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised, although having met a couple of them already, I doubt it. Halloran is a good man, though. I like him. The thing is, I’m not interested in winning their respect. Wouldn’t it be amazing if they were interested in winning mine? When you say that out loud, you can hear how ridiculous it sounds, how very outlandish.’

‘I think, well, I know, that Inspector Lambert respects you.’

‘Yes, I’m starting to believe that he does.’

‘That’s why he asked you to do this.’

‘And that’s why I’m doing it.’ Helen was tempted to admit that Inspector Lambert’s respect was of great importance to her. Her desire for it was new and strange, and a small, angry part of her still thought it might be a weakness.

‘I shouldn’t have included you in the lame-duck remark. I’m sorry.’ Ros Lord’s parting words came back to Joe as he said this.

‘Pardon, what did you say?’ Helen hadn’t heard what he’d said. His words had been lost in the clatter of the train.

‘Nothing. It was nothing,’ he said.

DOCTOR MARRIOTT, A
sturdy-looking man well into his sixties, found the task of examining the bodies of Matthew Todd and Rose Abbot very difficult. He knew both of them, and although he’d never much liked Matthew, to see him
in extremis
like that was disturbing, and Rose’s wounds made him feel physically ill. He’d attended innumerable dead people, but the circumstances of these two deaths got to him. He didn’t betray this to Inspector Halloran; instead, he hoped he gave the impression of dispassionate professionalism, which was the quality that Halloran displayed. Dr Marriott declared each of the victims dead, and said that although he couldn’t give an exact time of death before an autopsy, he believed that Matthew Todd had been dead for several hours — perhaps as many as six or seven. This would put his time of death at before midnight. Rose Abbot, on the other hand, had been dead for fewer than two hours. He would perform an autopsy on each of the bodies as soon as they were released to him. It had been Halloran’s intention to leave the bodies
in situ
until the Homicide people arrived. Now, knowing that one of these was Helen Lord, he decided to have the bodies removed to the small mortuary. He’d done a thorough examination of the scene, and photographs had been taken, as well as fingerprints. He’d take Titus’s advice and allow Constable Lord full access to the photographs.

By 10.00 am the neighbours had discovered what had happened. They’d watched, fascinated, as the bodies, outlined under sheets, had been carried out to a waiting van. By 11.00 am each of the immediate neighbours had been interviewed. No one had seen or heard anything unusual, either the previous night or that morning. Selwyn had made a bit of noise, but he generally did, and it had been no different from the noises he usually made.

Aggie consented eventually to go into Mrs Cuthbert’s house, next door to hers. Mrs Cuthbert was deaf, so Aggie wasn’t subjected to a stream of questions. She accepted a cup of tea and sat quietly, waiting for the inspector to turn his attention to her. She was nervous about this. He didn’t look like the kind of person who would be fooled easily. She’d stick to her story, and if she did that, she couldn’t see how it could be proved that she was lying. Selwyn had Rose’s blood all over him, and there was his confession on the slate. That had been clever. What was it she’d written, exactly? She pictured it in her mind’s eye, and when she did, something about it leapt out at her, and her stomach lurched. It was such a small thing. Surely they wouldn’t notice.

At 11.30 am, having been briefed by his men on what the neighbours had said, Inspector Halloran sat down to interview Aggie Todd. Constable Manton took notes, and Mrs Cuthbert went next door to the Hendersons so as not to intrude.

Aggie told Halloran the same story she’d told Paddy Filan, with no refinements, no additions, no suddenly remembered details.

‘You say you heard, rather than saw, the disturbance between Selwyn and your nephew in the front room?’

‘Yes.’

‘So it sounded to you as if they were fighting, knocking things over, making a racket.’

‘I don’t know about knocking things over, but they were certainly fighting. Matthew wouldn’t have given up without a struggle, Inspector.’

‘How do you account for the state of the room?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The room was remarkably tidy for a place where a fight had taken place.’

This hadn’t occurred to Aggie. It was too late to spin the police a tale that it was Rose who’d killed Matthew, and that she must have taken him by surprise from behind.

‘I imagine the room was a bit of a mess, but Selwyn’s been well trained to tidy up after himself. He would automatically have put things back where they belonged. It’s one of his few redeeming features.’

‘So he strangled your nephew and then thought he might be reprimanded for making a mess.’

‘Selwyn doesn’t
think
anything, Inspector. He acts according to a routine he’s become used to.’

‘You mentioned to Constable Filan yesterday that you think Selwyn must have overheard you discussing putting him away somewhere.’

‘That sounds dreadful, “Putting him away somewhere”, but I suppose that’s what it amounts to. We have to be practical. I can’t look after Selwyn forever, and I don’t think it matters to him where he is, so long as he has a routine.’

‘It would seem, though, that it matters to him very much — enough to kill two people, in fact.’

Aggie began to feel that her story was unravelling. She wasn’t going to panic. She could outwit this policeman.

‘Yes. I sometimes underestimate Selwyn’s understanding of things. You would, too, if you lived with him day in and day out.’

‘Does he speak?’

‘He speaks when he’s at home — when he feels safe, I suppose. I wouldn’t call what he says a conversation. He says single words. That would surprise people who only see him sitting there, giggling, in Sackville Street.’

‘Did he say anything this morning?’

Aggie considered the minor embellishment of having remembered Selwyn saying something incriminating, but decided against it. It would strike a false note. If he’d said anything, she’d have told Constable Filan already.

‘No, he said nothing. Even when he was hitting Rose, he was quite silent. I think that made it even more frightening.’

‘Can Selwyn write, Miss Todd?’

‘I wouldn’t call it writing. He makes letters on that slate of his, and he knows a few words I’ve taught him. I can’t bear to touch that slate. He cleans it with his saliva.’

Inspector Halloran didn’t tell Aggie that no fingerprints had been found anywhere on the slate, which was consistent with it having been wiped clean by someone — and that someone was unlikely to have been Selwyn.

‘Apart from Selwyn, Miss Todd, do you know anyone who would want to harm either your niece or your nephew?’

‘What do you mean? I heard Selwyn attack Matthew, and I saw him attack Rose. Whatever can you mean by that question?’

Halloran allowed the silence to grow between them. It gave Aggie a moment to think.

‘Are you suggesting, Inspector, that someone might have encouraged Selwyn to kill Matthew and Rose?’

Halloran had to admit that Aggie Todd was sharp. Aggie was buoyed by this inspired suggestion.

‘Matthew was well respected in Port Fairy, although there might have been disgruntled fishermen who resented his success.’

‘Why would they resent him?’

‘I don’t know much about it, but I know there’s a fish Co-operative that represents fishermen, and they don’t like competition outside the Co-op. Matthew was a forwarding agent, and he represented individual fishermen who chose not to join the Co-op. He got them good prices, better usually than they would have got through the Co-op.’

‘Did Matthew ever tell you that he’d been threatened by anyone?’

Aggie thought for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt to throw up some smoke.

‘He didn’t take any of it seriously, and he certainly wasn’t afraid, but he did mention once or twice that a man named Scotter, was it? Or Scotney? Yes, Scotney — that this Scotney person had had words with him.’

‘What sort of words?’

‘I don’t know the details. Matthew just mentioned in passing that Scotney had used abusive language and that he threatened him in some way.’

‘And your niece?’

‘Oh, Rose. No, I can’t imagine that anyone would hold a grudge against Rose. She wasn’t entirely happy in her marriage. Her husband is something of an oaf, and I know that he’d raised his hand to her on occasion. She confided that much in me.’

‘You think he’d want to have his wife killed?’

Aggie expressed shock.

‘Oh, no. But who knows what goes on within a marriage, Inspector?’