The Popeye Murder

by Sandra Winter-Dewhirst

  She was relieved Nick didn’t seem to suspect she had discovered the skull and that the hard work of the morning was behind her. She melted into the sagging director’s chair, alternating her sipping and chewing while dreamily watching a flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos picking at the ground and the olives left behind.

  The group spent the next hour drinking, eating, and doing a minimal amount of talking. They were exhausted and content to sit, eat and drink.

  Rebecca thought she showed enormous self-restraint to stick to two glasses of red, knowing she had to drive as well as talk to Gary about the skull. As no one else seemed to be drinking the Di Gorgio, she popped the cork back in the bottle and put it to one side, intent on taking it with her. She would polish off the rest of the bottle that night. No problem.

  After everyone said their farewells, Rebecca drove off from the olive grove and took a couple of backstreets until she found a suitable place to pull over. She rang Gary and it went to message bank. ‘Gary, it’s me, Rebecca. I’ve got something really important to tell you. Call me as soon as you get this message.’

  She was irritated she couldn’t speak to Gary but resisted the urge to call again. That would look obsessive.

  She then drove to Jonathan’s house to take a photo of the holly. Jonathan had still been packing up his truck when she had left the olive grove. The shed was unlocked, and Rebecca let herself in. The interior was dark, so she flicked on the light switch. The lights didn’t come on. Rebecca tried flicking the switch a couple of times, but still there was no light.

  ‘Damn,’ she said. But she wasn’t going to be deterred. She was cold and tired, and a large belly of food and wine was making her drowsy. Climbing the stairs in the dimness, she approached the top, where a little more light came in through the dormer windows. Dust floated in the shards of light.

  Once upstairs, Rebecca made her way to the rafter containing the drying herbs and grabbed a handful of the holly. She jumped as she heard a loud crash from downstairs.

  ‘Who’s there?’ said Rebecca.

  There was no answer. Rebecca warily crept down the stairs, holly in hand. As she turned the corner of the stairs, she could see the cause of the noise. Jonathan had crashed his truck into the wooden shed doors. Rebecca pulled back one of the doors to see him sitting in the driver’s seat looking slightly dazed, with a trickle of blood running down his forehead. Rebecca rushed to the driver’s door and opened it.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Mmmm. I think so. I hit my head on the windscreen,’ said Jonathan. He brushed his hand over his forehead and looked at the blood on the back of his hand. ‘I hit the accelerator instead of the brake.’

  ‘What the hell were you thinking!’ Rebecca said in an exasperated tone. Could anything else go wrong this week?

  ‘Don’t yell at me!’ said Jonathan, with tears starting to run down his cheeks. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose!’

  ‘No, I know,’ said Rebecca more gently. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just tired. Let’s get you inside.’

  As Rebecca helped Jonathan into his house, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had stuck to only a couple of wines at lunch.

  She cleaned Jonathan up and consoled him that not a lot of damage had been done to either the truck or the shed door.

  Only after this could she finally get to the point of her visit. She propped the holly on an outside table to get reasonably good light and took a photo.

  Leftovers

  It was almost three o’clock before Rebecca unlocked the front door of her bluestone cottage. Gary hadn’t returned her call. She rang him again and left another message. Exasperated at Gary not getting back to her, she went to the bathroom and turned on the bath taps, popped the plug in, and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on to make a cup of green tea.

  While the bath drew, she dropped all her clothes into the cane laundry basket and slipped on her bathrobe and slippers. She sat on the tree-stump table-cum-stool next to the bath and sipped her tea meditatively as she listened to the water fill the bath. The steam was fogging up the art deco mirror above the sink. It joined with the dim light of the afternoon to create a cocoon-like atmosphere. Rebecca slipped into the bath.

  Half an hour later she was dressed and had lit the open fire in the lounge room. She phoned Reg, as she wasn’t having any luck with Gary.

  ‘Hello, Rebecca, what’s up?’ answered Reg.

  ‘A skull.’ Rebecca replied bluntly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A skull. As if my life couldn’t get more complicated, I found a skull in Nick Pecorino’s boot.’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘I’ll speak slowly, Reg. I found a skull in the boot of Nick Pecorino’s car.’

  ‘Jesus, Rebecca. What next? Does Nick know?’

  ‘No. He was taking the olives to Thebarton, and I was looking for his picnic food, and I obviously opened something that I shouldn’t have. But I put it back and he is none the wiser.’

  ‘Have you told the police?’

  ‘Well, I’ve tried calling Gary, but his phone just goes to message bank. Perhaps I should try one of the detectives who work for him?’

  ‘I’m sure your boyfriend will get back to you soon. Probably best to speak to him.’

  ‘He’s not my bloody boyfriend,’ snapped Rebecca.

  ‘Okay, okay. Don’t get your knickers in a knot. Only joshing. Try calling him again when you get off the phone to me.’

  ‘There’s something else, Reg.’

  ‘I dread to ask.’

  ‘Nick has asked me to dinner at his place tomorrow night. And I’ve said yes. But now with the skull and all, I don’t think that is a good idea.’

  ‘Well, I hate to agree. But it might be too risky. Even for me. Look, Rebecca, you really need to talk to Gary about the skull. First things first.’

  ‘And another thing. I’ve had an idea about how we might be able to track down where this holly has come from.’

  ‘Gee, you’re on fire today.’

  ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Reg. I’ve taken a photo of the holly that was left at Jonathan’s place. I want you to put it in as a reader’s question in the gardening section of tomorrow’s paper. I’ll send you the question and the photo via e-mail shortly. Someone is bound to have seen it somewhere. We can only hope it is only found in a couple of places and we can narrow it down.’

  ‘Good idea. Send it through. I’ll make sure it goes into the paper tomorrow. And call me after you talk to your copper.’

  No sooner had Rebecca hung up from Reg than her phone rang. It was Gary.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Rebecca?’

  Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat. She liked to hear Gary call her by her name.

  ‘Rebecca?’ he said again.

  ‘Hi, Gary. Yes, it’s me. Thanks for calling back.’

  ‘Sorry I didn’t ring sooner, but I’ve been fixing the roof on my cottage. I’ve only just got your messages. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Well, you could say that. I’ve found a skull.’

  ‘What? Where?’

  ‘In the boot of Nick Pecorino’s car. I was looking for his picnic food while he was at Thebarton dropping off the olives. He doesn’t know I’ve seen the skull.’

  ‘Where are you, Rebecca?’

  ‘At home.’

  ‘I’ll come around now.’

  ‘Okay, that would be good,’ said Rebecca. ‘Do you know my address?’ She kicked herself again. Of course he knows my address. He even knows my blood type, my DNA profile, and my fingerprint pattern.

  ‘Yes, I know where you live. I’ll be there in about half an hour.’

  ‘Okay. See you soon.’

  She stoked the fire with more mallee roots. She turned off the overhead light and turned on the lamps to give the room a cosy feel. She manoeuvred the leather chairs closer to the fire and positioned a side table to sit between the chairs. She then went to the bathroom and put on some pink lippy and touched up her eyeliner and
mascara.

  The doorbell rang. Rebecca walked down the long hallway, stopping at the mirror to make sure she didn’t have anything stuck in her teeth. She was grateful she hadn’t eaten poppy seeds that day.

  ‘Come in.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s a bit chilly tonight. I think it’s going to be a cold one. No cloud cover. Probably be frost in the hills tonight,’ said Gary.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a fire going in the lounge room. Follow me.’

  Rebecca stopped in the kitchen on her way to the lounge. ‘Are you hungry? I’ve got some spanakopita left over from today. I could warm it up.’

  ‘Actually, I’m starving. I haven’t had lunch. Spanakopita sounds great.’

  ‘It’ll take about half an hour to warm. In the meantime, how about a drink? I’ve also got some leftover red wine from today’s lunch. A night of leftovers.’

  ‘Sounds good.’

  Rebecca poured them each a good-sized glass of the wine, handed one to Gary, and led him into the lounge room. They both sat down in front of the fire in the seats Rebecca had strategically placed.

  ‘Nice home,’ said Gary.

  ‘Yes. I like it. Good location too. Close to shops,’ replied Rebecca.

  ‘So tell me about this skull.’

  ‘Well, there’s not much to tell really. I was looking for Nick’s picnic food, and as his car was unlocked, I opened the boot. He had two plastic containers. I opened one of them, and there it was, a skull.’

  ‘Was there anything else with the skull?’

  ‘No. And I didn’t open the other container. I was just keen to get the lid back on and the boot closed before anyone saw anything.’

  ‘Who have you told apart from me?’

  ‘Only Reg. I haven’t told anyone else. And Reg insisted I talk to you before doing anything else.’

  ‘Good to hear. How about Nick? What was his response when he came back from Thebarton?’

  ‘Well, he asked who got the food from his car.’

  ‘Hang on. I’m missing something here. Was there food in Nick’s car?’

  ‘Walking back to the others, I saw an esky on the backseat of his car. I grabbed the esky and took it to the table.’

  ‘So, was Nick visibly upset that you were looking in his car?’

  ‘No. He played it pretty cool. Just asked a couple of questions. But I need your advice about how to play this. You see, he has asked me to his place for dinner tomorrow night.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I guess he didn’t really have to have a reason, but he said it was to talk about the Australian Food Festival coverage in the Advertiser. He was lamenting the fact that we hadn’t finalised much of the detail because of this murder investigation and my extended work commitments. I thought it unusual, though. He never asks people to his home. He gave me some crap about not inviting people over because he only likes to cook simply in his home environment and thinks people will be disappointed, given his reputation as a great chef.’

  ‘Actually, I think I get his last point. I’d be the same. Cooking professionally for people all the time, the last thing I would imagine you would want to do is to cook elaborate meals at home. Nick Pecorino would be under a lot of pressure to perform, and he may be over that.’

  ‘Yeah. I guess so,’ replied Rebecca. ‘The other thing I need to let you know about is the holly.’

  She had Gary’s attention. ‘I know the holly is a match. Jonathan told me.’

  He didn’t say anything.

  ‘I went back to Jonathan’s house this afternoon and took a photo of it,’ Rebecca continued. ‘Reg is going to put it in the help section of the gardening supplement tomorrow. I’ve instructed him to put in a trumped-up letter from a reader asking if anyone knows if there is a bush of this rare variegated holly growing in South Australia, as the reader would like to propagate from it.’

  Gary thought for a moment. ‘If you can track down the holly bush, it could prove to be pivotal to the case. You’ll let me know if you get any responses?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Rebecca.

  Just then the oven alarm beeped. ‘That will be the spanakopita. You don’t mind eating off your lap, do you?’

  ‘Not at all. Do you need any help?’

  ‘Nah. You wait here and keep warm. I’ll get the pie.’

  Gary relaxed back into the chair and stretched his long legs out before the fire. He appeared deep in thought when Rebecca came back with napkins, forks, and a couple of plates of spanakopita.

  ‘Smells good,’ said Gary. ‘Make it yourself?’

  ‘No. Picked it up from my local caterer. I haven’t had time to do much cooking at all this week. It’s been madness.’

  ‘I can understand,’ said Gary, breaking off a piece of the pie with his fork.

  ‘Okay. So what are you going to do about this skull? Should I even be going to this dinner tomorrow night?’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Don’t change your plans just yet. I will organise another search of his house for tomorrow morning. As Nick is a suspect in the Leong case, I can get a search warrant easily enough. I don’t need any other reason. And I don’t have to implicate you. My officers did a search in the days after Leong’s murder, but he may have been hiding this skull elsewhere at the time. But whatever we find, I don’t like the idea of you going to dinner with this guy. Even if we don’t find any trace of a skull, you saw it, and that’s a real concern.’

  ‘Okay. I understand. I don’t want to put myself in unwanted danger. But I won’t cancel just yet. I don’t want to do anything to raise his suspicions. I’ll wait to hear back from you after you have done the search.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘Would you like another drink?’

  ‘Perhaps just one more.’

  ‘Good.’ Rebecca grabbed his empty plate and went to the kitchen, putting the plates in the sink and then going straight to the pantry to search out another good bottle of red.

  When she returned, Gary cleared his throat before saying, ‘We’ve come to a new stage in this investigation, and I believe it’s time I shared some information with you. You’ve been generous in sharing information with me, and everything you’ve done reinforces my belief that you can be trusted.’

  Intrigued, Rebecca said, ‘Does that mean you don’t think I’m the murderer?’

  ‘Yes, Rebecca. I don’t think you are a murderer. There isn’t any evidence against you and I am no longer treating you as a suspect.’

  Gary went on, ‘As you say, the holly is a match. This holly isn’t the common English-introduced holly. This holly is native to Australia. I’m told it is extremely rare.’

  Gary pulled out a small notebook from the inside pocket of his jacket and flipped to a particular page. ‘The holly is called Alchornea ilicifolia, commonly known as “native holly”. It’s mainly found along the eastern seaboard of Australia, normally grown on the edges of drier rainforests. The gardening experts we have consulted have never seen or heard of the red variegation, so they think that someone who knows what they are doing has spent some time and effort in cultivating this variety. It is very rare, and therefore I think it may be an important part of the jigsaw. It may take us to the site where Leong was murdered.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope we get a response to the request in the Sunday Mail tomorrow.’

  ‘That was good thinking to put a request in the paper,’ said Gary. ‘But in relation to your meetings with Jonathan, be careful. Jonathan isn’t one I’ve ruled off my suspect list. In fact, he remains a key suspect. Don’t be alone in his company.’

  ‘There you are wrong. Nick is looking far more a suspect at this stage than Jonathan. Nick’s the one carrying a skull around in his boot.’

  ‘I don’t disagree. This skull certainly needs investigation. As soon as I leave here tonight, I’ll organise a search warrant. But this is another line of questioning. It doesn’t mean that I’ve ruled Jonathan off the list of suspects.’

  Gary sipped his wine, and they both f
ell silent for the next few minutes, looking at the fire.

  Gary put his empty glass on the table. ‘I better be off.

  Rebecca reluctantly rose to her feet. Gary also rose, and they looked into each other’s eyes. Rebecca wondered what he would do if she leaned in and kissed him. She so wanted to kiss him. She wasn’t noted for her self-restraint, but even she could appreciate that she would be putting Gary in a compromised position. Well, more than he is in already, she thought.

  Gary gave a cough. It broke the trance.

  ‘I’ll call you in the early afternoon tomorrow,’ he said.

  ‘Great,’ said Rebecca. ‘Tomorrow.’

  She led him up the hallway to the front door. As Gary passed by her over the threshold, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

  She backed up, horrified. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to—it’s just that everyone who leaves here gets a kiss on the cheek. It was a reflex,’ she said lamely.

  ‘Right. No harm,’ said Gary as he backed off the front porch, almost tripping off the step. ‘Talk tomorrow.’ He stumbled out the gate.

  The Dayaks

  Gary

  Detective Chief Inspector Gary Jarvie, along with Detectives Lee and White and six constables, turned up to Nick Pecorino’s house at ten o’clock Sunday morning. Nick opened the door wearing a short red kimono wrap. It looked to Gary as if Nick had just woken up and was still slightly disorientated.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Pecorino,’ said Gary. ‘I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but we need to search your house and property again.’