by Grace York
Isaac nodded. "Agreed. Let's start with the Claytons."
10
Addison left Isaac and his team to their work. It was nearly lunchtime, so she should be getting home to the beach house, but she wanted to pop in and see how Layla was getting on first. The gallery was only a couple of blocks away from the town centre, and it was another beautiful day, so she decided to walk.
As she rounded the corner Addison was again reminded of the fire that destroyed the gallery and claimed the life of her cousin Jenna. The image of flames leaping from the windows and smoke billowing into the afternoon sky was one she knew would never leave her. Layla had a lot of courage rebuilding the gallery and her home here. Addison really admired her strength.
The double glass doors at the front of the gallery were closed, and sheets of black plastic covered them from the inside to prevent prying eyes getting a sneak peek. Addison knew Layla was planning to unveil not just the gallery itself, but a number of new pieces of her art at the grand opening this Friday night. She didn't want to spoil the surprise, so when her knocking didn't elicit a response, she pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and called Layla.
"I'm out the front," she said when Layla answered.
"Of the gallery? Oh good! I'll be right down."
Addison ended the call, and a moment later one of the doors opened a crack. Layla's smiling face peeked out.
"Close your eyes," she said.
"I don't have to come in if you're not ready," said Addison.
"It's okay. I want you to come upstairs. You just can't see in here. Close your eyes, and I'll guide you over to the stairs."
Addison did as instructed and took Layla's hand. When they reached the top of the stairs Layla allowed her to open her eyes. Addison was stunned by the light and colour in the place.
"Oh, Layla, it's lovely! What a wonderful job you've done up here!"
"Thanks," said Layla, her pride obvious. It was so nice to see.
Addison cast her eyes around the space. She'd known the apartment on top of the gallery was going to be recreated structurally much the same as it had been in the old building, so she'd been expecting to see the kitchen and living rooms in the same places. But that was where the similarity ended.
Before, the apartment had been nice, but not much more than functional. When she hadn't been painting or sculpting for the gallery, Layla had spent a lot of her time caring for her sick father. She put all her creativity into her work, and a lot of her energy into her dad. There wasn't much left over for herself. Now it seemed all that had changed. There were bursts of colour everywhere, and Addison was thrilled to see the Layla she used to know coming out in the furnishings she'd chosen for her new home.
"It's so bright," Addison commented.
Layla pointed to the ceiling. "They put in a couple of these skylight tubes," she said. "Makes all the difference. Plus the balcony doors are larger than they were before."
Addison walked through the kitchen and dining area to the lounge, which had views of the ocean through glass doors leading onto a balcony.
"Is the balcony bigger?" Addison asked.
"Yes. I didn't quite have enough room for a decent size table and chairs before, so I asked them to make it bigger this time. I spend a lot of time out on the balcony, so it makes sense to make it comfortable. And I haven't lost much internal space because of it."
Addison had another good look around, pleased by how lovely it had turned out, but even more pleased by the obvious happiness the new build had brought Layla. She gave her cousin a hug.
"I'm so proud of you."
Layla smiled. "Thanks, Addison. I couldn't have done it without your support. But you know what? I'm proud of myself, too."
"And so you should be. This is fantastic. I can't wait for the gallery opening."
"Are you sure you don't mind me having it on Friday night?"
Addison took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen bench. "Why would I mind?"
"You always have your barbecues on Friday night. It's become a tradition."
"Oh, don't worry about that. It's an informal get-together, that's all. I think it's quite fitting to move it to the gallery for one week, don't you? After all, you've been at the beach house since we started the tradition. Jenna's wake was the very first one. It's the perfect night."
Layla breathed a big sigh and nodded. "You're right." She stood in her brand new kitchen. "Can I make you some lunch?"
"Sure, if you're all set up."
"The fridge is turned on, and I got a few groceries yesterday, so I can make us a sandwich. There's no hot water yet, though, so I'll have to come back to the beach house to sleep for a few more nights yet."
"You always have a bed at the beach house, I hope you know that."
"I do. Thanks, Addison."
They chatted about furniture and Layla's plans for the bedroom and bathroom while they made sandwiches and ate, and it was well into the afternoon before Addison realised the time.
Addison closed her eyes once again as she was led down the stairs, through the gallery, and out into the afternoon sunshine. Layla promised to be back at the beach house by dinner time, having a few things to finish up in the gallery before she called it a day.
They said their goodbyes, and Layla shut herself back inside as Addison set off on foot back to her car. She considered calling in at the police station again to see how Isaac and the others were getting on with the case but decided against it. The last thing she needed was for Isaac to rescind her position as police volunteer because she was getting too nosy.
Besides, she had an idea how she could help without getting in the way.
11
Addison retrieved the Rav 4 from where she'd left it outside Hazel's café, and drove the short distance to the veterinary surgery. Juliet was just finishing up with a four-legged patient when Addison entered the small waiting room, so she stood to the side while the vet discussed after-surgery care with the dog's concerned owner.
"She'll be fine, Mrs Howlett," Juliet was saying. "Just make sure to keep the cone on so she can't pull the dressing off, and bring her back in on Thursday for me to remove the stitches."
Addison felt sorry for the poor little dog. The plastic cone around her collar was necessary, of course, but it looked almost as uncomfortable and annoying as the wound it was there to protect.
"Thank you, Juliet," said Mrs Howlett. "Come on Ruby, let's go home and find you a nice treat." The woman smiled at Addison as she led the little dog out the door.
"Hi Addison," said Juliet, looking around at her feet. "Something wrong with Charlie? Where is he?"
"Oh no, Charlie's fine. I just wanted a confidential word, if you've got time?"
"Sure. That was my last appointment for today. It's all paperwork from here, so you're a welcome distraction. Come on through." Juliet locked the front door to the surgery. "My assistant has already left for the day," she explained. "Would you like a cuppa?"
"No thanks, I just had lunch with Layla."
"Oh, how is she doing? Is the gallery ready yet?"
They settled into Juliet's office and Addison filled Juliet in on the goings-on at the gallery, and how Layla had done such a great job decorating the apartment. They discussed how much they were both looking forward to the grand opening on Friday, before Addison got down to business.
"Juliet, what can you tell me about strychnine?"
"Strychnine? That's a pretty serious poison, Addison. Why do you want to know… oh, is that what happened to Perry Abbott?"
"I can't actually say. I'm just asking in a general sense here. I figure I can rely on your discretion?"
"Of course. Right, well, as I said, strychnine is a very serious poison. It comes from a plant; I forget the botanical name but I can look it up if you like."
"That's not important," said Addison. "Go on."
"It comes as a white powder. Years ago it was available in tablet form and used in medicine to treat a wide variety of hum
an ailments. They stopped that, of course, due to the danger of overdosing. Nowadays it's just used as a pesticide, in rat poison as well as for baiting programs for bigger pests such as wild dogs. Although I have heard of it being mixed in with street drugs like heroin…"
The idea of strychnine in street drugs made Addison shudder, but she didn't think that had anything to do with Perry Abbott's death.
"Can you tell me more about the dog baiting programs? Generally speaking, of course."
"Of course. Wild dogs are either dingoes, dingo hybrids, or domestic dogs that have been let loose and now live wild. They can have a serious impact on livestock – stealing chickens, biting and maiming cattle and sheep, that sort of thing. Baiting is common to control them in this state, particularly in autumn, as that's their mating season."
"And strychnine is the poison used?"
"It's one of them. The other is called 1080, which is sodium monofluoroacetate, but that one is illegal to purchase. You can arrange to buy 1080 baits through the local council, but it's very controlled."
"What about strychnine? Where can you get that?"
"From a chemist if you have a permit. You get one of those through Queensland Health."
"And when you have the permit, can you buy it from any chemist?" Addison asked.
"Hang on a second." Juliet logged into the computer on her desk and Addison waited patiently while she worked the keyboard for a few minutes. "Ah, I thought so. The chemist in Getaway Bay doesn't dispense strychnine, and there's only one chemist in Riverwood that does."
"Which chemist is that?" Addison asked.
"Riverwood Compounding Pharmacy. You want me to write down the address?"
"Yes please," said Addison.
If Sam Clayton had a permit for strychnine, he most likely purchased it from this chemist, she thought as Juliet wrote the details on a slip of paper. She wasn't sure how that helped the case at all, or why she was bothering questioning Juliet. Constable Diaz most likely had all this information already. Still, it felt good to be investigating. This must have been how Rob felt when he did what he'd always referred to as 'the legwork' on his cases. Addison suddenly felt close to her late husband.
"There you go," said Juliet, handing Addison the piece of paper. "I can't wait to hear all about the investigation on Friday."
Addison smiled awkwardly. "I can't—"
"I know, you can't talk about it. You're beginning to sound a lot like Isaac, you know."
Addison said goodbye to her friend and, tucking the paper with the chemist's name and address into her purse, jumped in the Rav and drove the short distance back to the beach house.
Charlie greeted her at the front door, and she bent down to give him a rub on the belly. "Where is everyone?" she asked, as if the dog were able to answer. Charlie just jumped up and down in front of her as she made her way into the kitchen. She stashed the empty baskets in their place, ready to transport tomorrow's baking to Hazel, then smiled at Charlie as he raced between her and the back door. He nosed his leash, which hung on its hook by the door, then bounded back to Addison with his tail wagging furiously and his tongue hanging out.
"Do you want to go for a walk, Charlie?" she asked. The word 'walk' elicited even more fury in the tail-wagging, and more enthusiastic bounding between Addison and the leash.
"I think that's a yes," said Adam, who'd materialised at the bottom of the kitchen stairs.
"Has he been out today?" Addison asked.
"No. Sorry, I was going to take him, but I got wrapped up in my synopsis."
"Did you get it done?"
Adam nodded. He crossed the kitchen to the fridge and yanked the door open, pulling out half a sandwich that had been left on a plate covered in plastic wrap. "All finished and sent off to my agent for a quick review before she sends it to the publisher. I hope they like it. I'm really excited to write this story." He swallowed the half sandwich in three bites.
"Good work," said Addison. She pulled Charlie's leash off its hook and got it secured on the excited dog's collar. "You want to come for a walk on the beach with us to celebrate?"
"That depends. Do you have information about the case?"
"I do."
Adam grinned. He put the empty plate in the dishwasher, threw the plastic wrap in the garbage, and opened the door for her.
"Then what are we waiting for?"
12
There weren't many people on the beach at this late hour, so Addison let Charlie off his leash to run free. The little dog bounded in and out of the waves, tail wagging furiously, as Addison and Adam strolled along the beach.
"So come on, give," said Adam. "You went to the police station without me today, didn't you?"
"You were busy. I didn't want to get in the way of you finishing your synopsis."
"I know. Thank you for that. I'm not the most disciplined when it comes to getting work like that done. But it's done now, so we can get back to the case. Who are their main suspects?"
"I'll get to that," said Addison. "But first, guess what they found in Perry's wine glass?"
"Poison, of course," said Adam straight away. "We knew he was poisoned."
"We knew no such thing. Police work is about facts, not assumptions."
Adam laughed. "We're not police, Addison. We're police volunteers. And better than that, we're writers. Isaac and the others can do their thing, but for me it's all about assumptions and guesses and surmises. That's the fun part."
Addison shook her head, but she had to laugh with him. He did have an interesting way of looking at things. "Okay, you can guess all you like I suppose. But I'm going to stick to the facts. And the first fact is they found strychnine in Perry Abbott's wine glass."
"Strychnine! Nice. Where does a would-be murderer get strychnine from around here?"
Addison explained what she'd found out from both Constable Diaz's search, and her discussion with Juliet.
Adam shoved his hands into the pockets of his denim shorts. "Wow. So someone snuck strychnine into his wine glass at the dinner?"
"It appears so. Isaac said the concentration found in the glass was enough to kill a person twice over. Whoever did it definitely wanted him dead."
"Or else they didn't know much about the dose required," said Adam.
"Either way, they wanted to make sure of it. So it's officially a murder investigation."
Charlie had finished playing in the water and was off exploring the sand dunes. Addison called to him, not wanting him wandering off too far. He came racing back to her side, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. She picked up a stick and threw it for him, and he chased after it eagerly.
"All right. Given the strychnine poisoning, who are the main suspects?" asked Adam.
"Diaz found out that Sam Clayton had recently applied for a licence to buy strychnine for a wild dog baiting program on his farm."
"Vanessa Clayton's husband?"
"Correct."
"She won one of the categories, didn't she?"
"Yes. The Terriers. Her dog is called Lola."
"Any reason for her or her husband to have it in for the head judge?"
"None that we could see this morning. Isaac was going to interview them both this afternoon, but I haven't heard from him."
Adam plucked a flat stone from the sand and skimmed it into the surf. "It'll be interesting to hear what they have to say. Who else?"
Addison told him about the restraining order Perry Abbott had taken out against Richard Divola ten years ago. "Short wasn't able to get any details except that it was related to a domestic incident. They were going to interview him this afternoon as well."
"Sounds like they were going to be busy. They ask you to do anything?"
"No," said Addison. Suddenly she felt guilty for talking to Juliet about the poison this afternoon. She hoped the vet would be discreet enough to keep the details to herself.
"Any other suspects?" asked Adam.
"Short did a background check on everyone at the dinne
r, but nothing else came up besides the Richard Divola thing."
"What about the wife? Helen, wasn't it? Surely she's got to be a suspect."
"Isaac spoke to her yesterday, but I think it was mostly to get an idea of who Perry was. I suppose he has her in mind as a suspect, but I think you have to tread carefully when it comes to the victim's spouse."
Rob used to say interviewing the spouse of a homicide victim was one of the hardest parts of his job. They were always a suspect, and had to be treated as such, but they were usually also the closest person to the victim. If they were guilty, then the early interview was crucial in revealing them as the killer. But if they didn't do it, interviewing them as if they did could cause even more pain than they were already suffering. Rob had always struggled with that part of the job.
"Fair enough," said Adam. "So if the poison was in the wine glass, did it come out of the bottle? Or was it just in the glass?"
"They haven't finished testing all the bottles yet, but Isaac suspects it was only in the glass. Otherwise there would have likely been more victims."
"True." Adam skimmed another stone across the water. "If I wanted to poison someone in public, I'd make sure that person was the only possible victim."
Charlie dropped the stick at Addison's feet, and she picked it up and threw it again for him as she contemplated what Adam had just said.
"Say that again," she asked him, brow furrowed.
"What? Making sure the person was the only possible victim?"
"No, the other bit."
"If I wanted to poison someone in public?"
"Yes. I'd never thought of that, but you're right. Whoever did this did it in a very public place. Why?"
Adam shrugged. "To make a spectacle of it?"
"That's pretty callous, don't you think?"
"We're talking about murder, Addison. It's callous anyway you look at it."
"Of course, but to do it in such a public way. Do you think the killer was trying to make a point of some sort?"
Adam threw the stick for Charlie. "I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe the dinner was the only place the killer had access to him. Maybe they wanted to watch it happen. Or they did it there because that would give the police the maximum number of suspects. You were there. How many people could have put the poison in his glass?"