by Simon Rowell
A local uniformed sergeant walked across to them, his face a hotchpotch of wrinkles and sunspots. ‘Terry Gunny,’ he said, his hand outstretched.
‘Zoe Mayer and Charlie Shaw,’ she replied, shaking his hand.
‘Yep, I recognise you from the news,’ Terry said.
Zoe blushed as Charlie darted a look at her.
‘That Dwayne Harley?’ she asked, pointing at a man sitting on a low rock wall near the garage.
‘Yeah, that’s him,’ said Terry. ‘He seemed pretty freaked out when the first units arrived. He’s calmed down a bit since then.’
‘Has he said anything that’d be useful for us?’ asked Charlie.
‘Nah, nothing. Sorry.’
‘Did you know the victim?’ Zoe asked.
‘No, Ray Carlson wasn’t on our radar. Nothing on the system when I ran his name.’
‘What about his mate Dwayne?’
‘Same. I’ve seen him about once or twice, but I ran his name as well. He’s clean.’
Zoe looked across at the spectators. The younger ones stood on the baking road, hopping from foot to foot. The older ones were on the grass on the far side of the road, whispering to each other. Zoe had an eye out for someone standing alone, looking anxious. All she could see were gawkers.
Hannah and Angus were off to the back, talking to people and making notes. They would ask everyone the same questions: Do you know the victim? Did you see anything suspicious? Hear anything? They would be scanning faces for signs of nervousness. Sometimes a killer would come back to oversee the action.
Zoe turned back to Terry. ‘You had any serious crimes around here recently? Anything involving weapons? High levels of violence?’
Terry shook his head. ‘Nah, nothing. Had a non-fatal stabbing in Rosebud last year, but the junkie gave himself up two days later. He’s in prison now. Most of what we deal with is traffic-related, or people drinking too much at the pub and fighting. Occasionally we get a break and enter of someone’s shed. Almost every house at this end of the peninsula has a monitored alarm system, so the crooks go elsewhere.’ Zoe remembered the pulsing green light of the alarm system when she had first entered the house.
‘Makes sense,’ she replied. Over Terry’s shoulder, Zoe saw the media arriving and unloading equipment. Beyond their vans, she noticed a dark blue Toyota Camry. She pointed at it. ‘You got any local detectives here? That looks like a CI car.’
Terry squinted down the road. ‘No, not one of ours.’
‘Okay, thanks Terry. I reckon we’ve got it from here.’
‘No worries,’ he said, wandering back towards the police tape.
Zoe turned to Charlie. ‘Oliver gauged the preliminary time of death to be between ten-thirty and eleven-thirty. Tell Hannah and Angus. They can be more specific in their questioning.’
Charlie set off in their direction.
Zoe walked across to where Dwayne Harley was sitting, staring at his hands. She crouched in front of him. ‘Dwayne, I’m Detective Sergeant Zoe Mayer, from Homicide.’
Dwayne lifted his head, but didn’t meet her gaze, staring vacantly towards the fence across the yard. Like the victim, he had a tanned complexion. His dark hair was cut short and Zoe could see his lean muscles under his tank top and board shorts. There seemed to be no scratches or bruises on his body.
‘Hey,’ he said meekly, barely a whisper.
‘You want some water or something?’
‘No, I’m okay. The other copper gave me some.’
Charlie approached. Zoe pointed over her shoulder with her pen, keeping her eyes on Dwayne. ‘This is Detective Senior Constable Charlie Shaw. So, what happened here today?’ she asked, keeping her voice soft and sympathetic. She let her gaze fall to Dwayne’s hands, looking for fresh cuts or dried blood around his fingernails or in the creases of his knuckles. They were clean. She saw sand caught in the hairs on his forearm.
Dwayne sucked in a breath. ‘Me and Ray were supposed to go surfing this morning. He was a no-show, so after maybe an hour I came into shore and tried to call him a few times, but he didn’t answer.’ Zoe looked up at Charlie, who was writing notes. He nodded.
‘What time was that?’ asked Zoe.
‘Dunno, probably about a quarter past eleven? It was weird, because he always answers, so I drove up here and… found him. I stood there for a bit, kinda in shock. He looked like a wax model. I thought he was playing a joke. Kept expecting he’d sit up and yell “Boo.”’
Zoe leaned forward, breathing in deeply, as if considering her next question. She smelled no trace of bleach. ‘What time did you arrive?’
‘It was about eleven-thirty by the time I’d got changed, tied down the board and driven up here. The surf beach is just around the corner.’
Zoe pursed her lips. She knew that the same mobile phone tower would service the beach and the house. There’d be no way to verify Dwayne’s whereabouts through tower pings.
‘That your ute?’ Zoe asked, pointing at the new Toyota Hilux in the driveway. It had a surfboard in the back.
‘Yeah.’
There was sand on the end of the surfboard. Zoe turned back to Dwayne. ‘Did you touch the body? Check if your friend was still alive?’
Dwayne blinked and shook his head. ‘No…I didn’t. The other copper asked me the same thing. There was too much blood and he wasn’t breathing. Fuck, I couldn’t do anything…He was already dead,’ he said, exasperated. ‘If I could have helped him, I would’ve.’ Dwayne started to breathe heavily, raising his fingers to his face.
Zoe put up a reassuring hand. ‘I understand, Dwayne. What did you do after that?’
‘I came out the front and called triple zero. The first coppers arrived about five minutes later and I’ve been sitting here ever since.’
‘You have your phone on you now?’
‘Yeah…why?’ Dwayne said, reaching into his pocket.
‘Just want to have a look at the phone log so we can add your calls into the timeline.’
Dwayne pulled out his phone, punched in a code, and handed it to Charlie.
‘So, were you and Ray friends for a long time?’ Zoe continued.
‘Ever since I can remember. Went to Sorrento primary together, then to Rosebud secondary.’
‘Did you have a key?’
‘To what?’
‘To the house. A key to get in?’
‘No, the door was wide open when I got here.’
Zoe nodded. ‘Tell me about Ray’s enemies.’
‘He didn’t have any.’
‘Well, someone wanted to hurt him. You probably know him better than anyone, Dwayne. Are you sure there isn’t anything that can help us?’
‘No. I can’t think of a single person who had a problem with him.’
‘Any drug issues?’
‘Nah. He never touched them.’
‘Gambling?’
‘Twenty bucks here and there on a Saturday down at the pub. Nothing big.’
‘What about relationships?’
‘Single. Has been a while now.’ Dwayne crossed his arms and looked at the ground.
Zoe watched him. ‘He was married though, right?’
‘Yeah. He was married to Donna for a long time. Sixteen years or so. They broke up a while back. Getting divorced. She lives in Sorrento, on the bay.’
‘Lot of aggro between them?’
‘A bit,’ said Dwayne, again looking at Zoe. ‘Arguing about money, that sort of thing.’
‘You think she could’ve done this, Dwayne?’
‘Nah, doubt it. Donna is a piece of work, but I can’t see her doing this.’
‘Okay. Charlie will take your formal statement now. We’ll also need Donna’s address and the names of any other friends or family.’ Zoe waited, looking Dwayne square in the eye. ‘We’re sorry for your loss.’
‘Yeah, thanks,’ said Dwayne.
Charlie sat down beside Dwayne on the rock wall. Zoe walked to her car and opened the back door. She took out a
bowl and water bottle and went over to where Harry was sitting, his tail sweeping across the grass. She filled his bowl. As Harry drank, Zoe looked down the street. The blue Camry was gone.
She glanced at the properties beside Carlson’s house. The one on the left had an Audi in the driveway and some bicycles strewn across the yard. The other looked vacant, with window shutters closed and grass that was a week overdue for a mow. Probably someone’s holiday house, she thought.
The media were milling together in the shade. She could see six TV crews, reporters from a couple of radio stations and the crime beat journos from the major Melbourne papers. There were a couple of people she didn’t recognise, who she supposed were from local media. She waved for them to come over.
As everyone was getting set up, Zoe waited impatiently. The sun was burning and she wanted to get her jacket off as soon as possible.
3.30 PM, SUNDAY 2 FEBRUARY
Zoe’s gaze travelled up the red lacquered door. It was at least twelve feet high. Around it, the front of the house, all glass and steel, rose like the bow of a ship out over her head. It made Zoe uneasy, as if the house were about to run her down. Harry sat quietly, his eyes on her.
The house was in a quiet cul-de-sac running off Point Nepean Road in Sorrento, and set back deep on the block. Charlie stood behind them on the paved path that cut through the garden of succulents. There was a platinum BMW convertible in the driveway. ‘An 8 series. That’s serious money.’
Zoe knocked once.
The red door immediately swung open. ‘Hello,’ said a woman, stretching the word out. She was tall, in her late thirties, with short blonde hair, and wore a clinging blue summer dress that showcased her cleavage. She was wiping her hands with a kitchen towel.
‘Ms Carlson?’ asked Zoe, holding up her badge.
‘Hello, I was wondering when you’d arrive,’ she said breezily, without looking at the badge. ‘Come on in. I’m just cooking.’ Behind her, a white shih tzu barked angrily as he ran back and forth behind her legs, the noise echoing in the atrium-like foyer.
Harry tilted his head, staring impassively at the smaller dog.
‘Quieten down, Bobo. Bring your dog—mine will be good. I like his little vest.’ The woman pointed at Harry as she bent down to pick up her dog, who stopped barking. ‘Service dog, eh? I’ve never seen a police service dog before,’ she said, already walking back through the house.
‘He’s new,’ said Zoe, giving Charlie a sideways glance, not sure how to interpret the upbeat manner. Two detectives arriving unannounced usually provoked anxiety. This woman was acting as if a neighbour had stopped by.
As they entered, Harry darted around Charlie, coming up close alongside Zoe.
‘Cup of tea? It’s Donna, by the way.’ They entered an open living area. The smell of a freshly baked cake filled the air. Floor to ceiling windows gave them a view of an infinity pool, which met the waters of Port Phillip Bay. They could see north around the arc of the peninsula towards the city in the distance.
‘Thank you, but no,’ said Zoe.
Charlie shook his head, still staring out over the bay.
‘You know why we’re here, then?’ asked Zoe.
‘Those hoons. I don’t care what judge or surgeon raised them, they shouldn’t be screaming around the streets in their parents’ Porsches at two in the morning.’
Zoe put up a hand. ‘Ms Carlson, Donna, that’s not why we’re here.’
‘Oh, sorry. I made a complaint to the local station and thought…So, why are you here?’
Donna sat at the dining-room table, indicating chairs for them. ‘Ms Carlson, my name’s Zoe Mayer and this is Charlie Shaw. We’re from Homicide and we have some bad news for you.’ Zoe waited a beat. ‘Ray Carlson was found dead this morning at his home.’
Donna looked directly at Zoe. A few seconds passed. She shut her eyes until she was almost squinting. ‘What… What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘He was murdered,’ said Zoe, her tone neutral.
Donna said nothing, clear-eyed, before shaking her head twice and staring out towards the bay.
Again Zoe waited. ‘When did the two of you separate?’ asked Zoe.
Donna took a breath. ‘About eight or nine months ago. It was winter. June. Yes, it was at the end of June.’
‘Who instigated the separation?’
‘I suppose it was me, although we’d both been unhappy for a while.’
‘Do you know if Ray had a problem with anyone?’
‘No. Ray’s just a big kid at heart…Murdered? I can’t believe it. Are you sure?’ Donna shook her head, blinking. Zoe could see her eyes growing moist. She noted that Donna hadn’t asked her how Ray had been killed.
‘Where were you this morning?’ asked Zoe.
‘In Rosebud with my sister. At the shopping centre. She lives down there.’ She waved a finger towards the window.
‘What time was that?’
Donna paused a moment, as if collecting her thoughts. ‘I left home around quarter past nine. Arrived just before nine-thirty, I’d say. We shopped for a while and then had coffee. Hold on…’ Donna grabbed her handbag and retrieved her purse. She searched through it before pulling out a receipt and handing it to Zoe. It was for a dress bought at 9.58 am for ninety-eight dollars. Zoe turned on her phone, photographed the receipt and gave it back to Donna.
‘Bought it for my sister. She doesn’t have many nice clothes.’
‘What time did you leave Rosebud?’
‘About eleven-thirty, I think.’
‘Did you come straight home?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Have you been to Latham Drive in Portsea today?’
‘To Ray’s place? No.’
‘But you’ve been there, yes?’
‘Only once, and not inside. We had a…a disagreement… outside his place a month back.’
‘What about?’
Donna closed her eyes, before shaking her head. ‘Money. He was supposed to put some money in my account and hadn’t. Wasn’t a big deal. He sorted it that night.’
‘Does he own the house?’
‘No, he rented it when we split.’
‘Does Ray have any enemies you know of?’
‘No. No one,’ Donna said.
‘Owe anyone money?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Do you work?’
‘What? No, I don’t. Why?’
‘Well, Ray worked at a winery and the house he was living in would’ve cost a small fortune to rent. Plus, this place is pretty fancy and there’s a new BMW out front…’
‘He is…was…the logistics manager. Plus, we were careful with money.’ Donna adopted a lofty tone. ‘You can save a lot that way.’
‘Right,’ said Zoe, unconvinced. ‘So, why did you and Ray split up?’
‘We just grew apart. He wanted to go surfing all the time. I wanted a more grown-up life, a normal life. Ray was like a teenager in a lot of ways. I never wanted kids and I certainly didn’t want to be married to one.’ Donna paused. ‘Sorry, that sounded awful. Bad habit.’
Zoe wanted to catch Donna off guard. ‘Did you have anything to do with Ray’s death?’
Donna’s head jerked back. ‘What? No, no, I didn’t. How dare you!’
‘Who did then?’
‘How would I know? I don’t have the faintest idea.’
‘We would like to have a look at your phone,’ Zoe said.
‘What? Why?’
‘We need to eliminate those closest to him as suspects. It’s easier if we look at the phone with your permission rather than wasting time getting a warrant.’
Donna made a show of thinking it through.
‘Unless there’s something you’re not telling us,’ added Zoe, one eyebrow raised.
Donna got up and walked to the kitchen bench. She picked up her phone and punched in some numbers as she walked back to the table. ‘Go for your life,’ she said, sliding it across the table.
Charlie
moved in close as Zoe scrolled through the log. ‘Who’s Brenda?’ asked Zoe. The number had been called earlier that day and twice on Saturday.
‘My sister, the one I met with this morning.’
‘Okay,’ said Zoe. All the other numbers had female names attached to them. Charlie wrote down the names and numbers.
Donna pouted. ‘This going to take long? I need to call his parents.’
‘Not too long,’ said Zoe.
Donna rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and looked out over the bay again.
Zoe opened Donna’s text messages. She and Charlie read them together. There were exchanges with about ten people, none of whom seemed of interest. Charlie noted them in any case. Zoe passed the phone back across the table.
‘Is that it, then?’ asked Donna.
8 PM, SUNDAY 2 FEBRUARY
Zoe was going over her notes as Charlie drove them down St Kilda Road past the long shadows of high-rises. Harry slept on his mat in the back seat. It was almost sunset but the heat outside was still blistering.
Her phone buzzed. Zoe glanced at the screen before answering. ‘Hi Mum.’
‘Hi darling. Good luck for tomorrow. First day back and all.’ Though she sounded upbeat, Zoe could hear the background anxiety in her mother’s voice.
‘Already started. Picked up a job late this morning.’
‘Goodness, no easing you back in then?’
‘Doesn’t work like that. Sooner the better, I say.’
‘As long as you think you’re ready. How’s Tom? Things still going well?’
‘Everything’s fine. Listen, Charlie and I are running late to an autopsy. I’ll give you a ring in a few days, okay?’
There was a pause. Zoe let it run.
‘That’s fine,’ her mother said. ‘Whenever you find some time.’
She ignored the bait. ‘Will do. Love you.’ Zoe ended the call, and looked over her shoulder at Harry, who was asleep.