The Profiler (6 page)

Clayton’s eyes narrowed. “So, that means he took off shortly after Josie was reported missing. You don’t think that’s significant?”

He’d addressed her directly, his gaze burning into hers. She held her ground, refusing to be intimidated.

“Possibly. It’s too early to tell. Besides, Sally Batten’s been missing about a month. And of course, until we’ve identified Jane Doe, we won’t know if there’s any connection there.”

“But he does work at the University and he just happens to teach two of our missing girls.” He drilled her again with his gaze. “And now he’s disappeared?”

The sudden tension in the air was palpable. Anger ignited inside her. How dare he come and throw his weight around the minute he arrived? He’d been invited along to help them, not make them feel like incompetent probation officers straight out of the Academy.

Ellie seethed in silence. Ben leveled her with a look of warning and she clamped her mouth shut. The Fed turned back to the whiteboard.

Easing out her breath, she flashed Luke a look of apology. He grimaced and directed his attention back toward Clayton who’d begun to speak again.

“At this stage, it’s impossible to tell who we’re looking for and whether we’re looking for one killer or more. Until we know if the missing girls are, in fact dead, we don’t even know if there’s a connection between them and the unidentified head.”

He spread his arms wide. “I understand your concerns. Anyone prowling the streets of Sydney decapitating women while they’re still alive needs to be found, and quickly.” He swung around and stared at Ben. “You’re right when you say identifying Jane Doe is your number one priority. Once we know who she is, then we can decide if there’s a link between her and the missing girls. Until that happens, unfortunately, there’s not a lot we can do unless another body turns up.”

Ellie grimaced. No one wanted to think about that possibility. But the Fed was right. Until they’d cemented a link between the women, they were stuck in limbo.

“Ben, if you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow Jane Doe’s file and go through it—get a feel for what’s happened so far,” Clayton said.

“No problem. Ellie and Luke can give you everything they have.”

“Which is blessed little,” Ellie mumbled as she gathered up Bill Griffin’s statement and the scant forensic reports they’d scraped together so far.

“Where are you staying, Clayton?” Ben asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“Uh, thanks Ben, but I’ve booked a room in the city. I was going to stay with one of my brothers. Three of them are living in Sydney. I called Tom, but his house is in quarantine. His youngest has the chicken pox. I rang Declan, too—you might remember him?”

Ben nodded. “Yes, he’s a bit older than you, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he’s three years older. Anyway, he’s away on holidays up in Queensland. I didn’t even bother to call Brandon. He spends more time overseas on top secret AFP Missions than he does in Sydney.” Clayton shrugged. “I decided it was probably easier to stay in a hotel. Besides, I can stay totally focused on the case this way and I’ll be free to come and go as I please. I was hoping you’d give me the use of an unmarked squad car.”

Color stained Ben’s cheeks. “You’re forgetting we’re State coppers. There’s no money for spare vehicles. Ride with Ellie. She commutes from the city. Besides, she’s been on the case since the get-go. She will be able to fill in any gaps.”

A surge of alarm burned through her. Sidling up to Ben, she lowered her voice. “Ah, Ben? I was thinking—that is, maybe Luke could—?”

“Luke lives in Cronulla, Ellie. That’s hardly practical. He can partner with Cheryl for the next little while.” Ben glanced in Luke’s direction. “Are you all right with that?”

“Yeah, boss; no worries.”

With a muffled groan, Ellie pushed passed him and strode in the direction of the locker room. How the hell had she managed to get herself lumped with another
Fed
?

CHAPTER FOUR

Ellie took a sip from her double shot espresso and waited for the caffeine to work its magic. It was barely eight thirty and already a headache plagued her. It had started when she’d woken and remembered she’d been partnered with the Fed.

She stifled a groan. It wasn’t as if she had anything against him, personally. It wasn’t like it was the AFP’s fault her ex had turned into a bastard the minute he’d been accepted into its haloed ranks. He’d obviously had the potential to be a loser well before then.

It was just that his weakness hadn’t manifested itself until the acceptance papers arrived in the mail. Overnight, he’d morphed into someone she hadn’t recognized. The memories still made her angry, although in clearer moments, she grudgingly accepted how lucky she’d been to discover his inherent selfishness well before the wedding march had been played.

Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to deal with Clayton for more than the ride to work. Within moments of taking the seat beside her, he’d asked her to drop him off at the Westmead Morgue. He’d then proceeded to stare out the window. They’d spent the rest of the journey in silence. She’d been even more relieved when he’d told her he’d be at the morgue for most of the morning.

The only thing she’d been disgruntled about was that he’d looked good enough to eat in his tailor-made designer suit and crisply knotted tie. He’d offered her a casual wave good-bye with a smile that could have sold toothpaste and her belly had fluttered with nerves. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit it was her reaction to him that had her most out of sorts.

Luke sauntered in from the tea room, his usual brew of coffee in hand. Catching sight of her face, he shook his head. “Not a good way to start the morning, Coop.”

Ellie threw him a withering look. “You’d better watch your mouth, Baxter. I’m not in the mood.”

“Now, now, Coop. Don’t be like that. How could you be out of sorts with the sun barely two hours above the horizon? It’s not like you to come to work in a bad mood.”

She threw her hands in the air, her frustration evident. “Who knows? Maybe it has something to do with the unsolved cases piling up on my desk. Or the fact that Ben’s seen it necessary to bring in outsiders before we’ve even had a chance to put together something ourselves.” Collapsing back into her chair, she blew her breath out in an effort to relieve the tension that had her wound as tight as a guitar string. She looked up as Ben strode in.

“Where’s Clayton?” His eyes narrowed on her face. “You did pick him up, didn’t you?”

She only just managed to suppress a roll of her eyes. “Of course. I promised you I’d show him the utmost respect, and I am.”

“So, where is he?”

“He’s at the morgue. He wants to talk to Samantha. Obviously, Luke and I can’t be trusted to get it right.” She checked her watch. “I’m supposed to be picking him up shortly.”

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic, Detective.” He swung around to face Luke. “How’d you do with the TV stations? Any chance of keeping the story alive for a bit longer?”

Luke took another sip out of his coffee mug, his expression glum. “It’s a bit of a battle, Ben. The story broke two weeks ago.” He shrugged. “With no fresh leads and that big drug bust down at Kings Cross a couple of nights ago, they’re not that interested.”

He set his mug down on Ellie’s desk. She frowned at the wet puddle it formed amongst her mountain of paperwork. Luke continued, oblivious.

“I did manage to get the papers to run it one more time. They’re going to focus on the earrings. It’ll come out this afternoon. Let’s hope someone recognizes them. At least then we’ll have something to go on.”

Ben’s attention returned to Ellie. “How about the Ward girl? Anything new?”

She squirmed under his regard. “No, sir. Not yet, anyway. We tracked down Josie Ward’s supervisor. He’s been off sick the last couple of weeks. He showed us a copy of the security tape from her last shift. Unfortunately, there’s not much to see once she leaves the store. She heads off in the direction of the taxi stand with Drew McNeill and after that, there’s nothing.”

“Keep me posted, won’t you? Those poor families must be going out of their minds.”

Ellie held her breath as he turned abruptly and headed toward his office. With a sigh, she tilted her head up to meet Luke’s somber gaze.

“I can’t imagine what he’s going through.”

She suppressed a shiver. “Yeah. There but for the grace of God.”

“You got any kids, Coop?”

The question hit her without warning, as if she’d been whacked in the stomach with a baseball. Visions of Jamie flooded her mind, cutting short her air supply. She sucked in her breath and felt the blood drain from her face.

“Cooper, are you all right? Christ, you look awful.”

Luke bent over her, his eyes full of concern. Ellie struggled to regain her composure. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I just… You just…” She shook her head. “Forget about it, Baxter. I’m fine. I might just step outside for a bit and clear my head.” Her lips twisted. “I’ll go and pick up the Fed.”

She collected her coat and scarf from the back of her chair and headed toward the locker room to retrieve her handbag. She was almost outside the door when Ben called out to her.

“Ellie, I’ve just received another call from Jim Whitton.”

She frowned, searching her memory and coming up blank.

“The man I told you about a couple of weeks ago. His chest freezer’s gone missing. Actually, I should say he’s the latest victim. There have been a couple of earlier freezer thefts reported, haven’t there?”

“Yes,” she replied, relieved to have made the connection at last. “I’m still chasing up a few leads.” Tying her red woollen scarf around her neck, she pulled her coat on over her shoulders. “I’m on my way out to collect Federal Agent Munro.”

“You need to stop by. Take him with you. Whitton lives in Penrith. Clay will probably want to meet with the girls’ families this afternoon, anyway.” He handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s the address. Take Whitton’s statement. Make him feel like someone cares.” He grimaced. “And get him to stop phoning me, will you?”

She swallowed a sigh and forced a smile. “No worries, boss.”

Ben’s expression softened. “I know what you’re thinking, Ellie. You’re snowed under with more important things right now. We all are. But do me a favor; just go through the motions. Take his statement, make him feel important. You know what to do.”

She groaned aloud and shoved the piece of paper into the pocket of her trousers. Pulling her heavy black coat tighter around her, she slung her handbag over her shoulder and headed out the door.

* * *

From a
distance, the red
brick-and-tile bungalow reminded Ellie of the Ward house a couple of suburbs across. Similar in age and style, it wasn’t until they’d stepped onto the front porch that the similarities came to an abrupt end.

Junk of every shape, size and description filled the small entryway, all the way to the battered front door. Old newspapers, wooden boxes, cardboard and aluminium cans were crammed into every space and crevice. The place looked like a recycling plant.

Clayton gave the front door a dubious knock, its chipped and peeling white paint in keeping with the standard set by the entryway. They were met with silence. Glancing at Ellie, he shrugged and knocked again, this time louder.

“All right, all right. I’m comin’. I’m comin’. Hold ya horses.”

The rusted screen door opened with a noisy protest. A middle-aged man with an alarmingly large stomach that protruded over a pair of gabardine work shorts met them at the door. The skinniest legs Ellie had ever seen poked out from underneath. Seemingly oblivious to the cold July temperature, the man looked them over with bright, curious eyes.

“Mr Whitton?” Ellie held out her hand, grimacing inwardly as it was engulfed in a fleshy handshake. “I’m Detective Cooper, and this is Federal Agent Munro. We’re from the Penrith Local Area Command. We’re here about your freezer.”

“Jim.” The man grinned, showing an eternity of dental neglect. An odor that almost outdid the stench of the trash wafted toward her. “Call me Jim. Come in. Come in.”

She shot Clayton an involuntary look of distaste. He grinned back at her and leaned in close. “Don’t worry, Cooper. I’ve got your back.”

Spicy aftershave and warm, male smell assailed her. It was so at odds with the reek of the house, she felt dizzy. With a shake of her head, she forced a light reply. “It’s not my back I’m worried about. Who knows what horrors lie inside.”

She watched as Jim Whitton disappeared down the hallway and then she took a cautious step inside.

Clayton chuckled low in her ear. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Yeah, scared of catching some exotic disease no one’s ever heard of.” She looked around her again. “This place is a health hazard.”

With gritted teeth, she continued forward. More garbage filled the front room. A strange odor emanated through a closed door off to her left. She wasn’t game to open it.

They continued on through the house. Each room they passed was progressively smellier and fuller with garbage and other pieces of junk. One room seemed to be filled entirely with old glass bottles. There wasn’t a piece of uncluttered furniture in the place.

Jim Whitton waited for them on the back porch that had been enclosed with windows and a door. Surprisingly, compared to the rest of the house, it was only modestly chaotic. An old television sat in a cupboard with both doors missing. A threadbare couch was propped up against the wall with two building bricks replacing an absent leg. A large black cat sat curled upon it, eyeing Ellie and Clayton with suspicion.