“Actually, no.” Ben reached for the phone. “Thanks for the reminder.” He dialled, sipping his coffee. It went to her message bank. “It’s Ben. Need to update you on the yacht if you’d call me back. Thanks.”
“Maybe she’s scrubbing fingerprint powder off and cursing you.”
“Crap. Hope not.”
Andy put his elbows on the desk. “What is it with you both? Don’t give me that look, I don’t need a detective’s badge to see something going on there.”
“We’ve met before.”
“Met?”
“Long time ago. Before she was married. End of story.” Ben put the phone down and pushed his coffee cup away.
“Some things don’t end. Just saying.”
“Ben, do you have a minute?” Meg stuck her head out of her office.
“Perfect timing.”
“But I have so many more questions.” Andy teased as Ben stood.
“Put all that investigative energy into finding out who owns or controls the pier. And if there is any relationship between Frank and Jack.” Not about to give Andy any more time for questions, Ben strode to meet Meg.
“You called?”
Fingers flying over a keyboard, she didn’t look up. “I did. Two secs.”
The footage from Paul was on a monitor, paused on Jack in the elevator. His hand reached to press a floor button, but the image was fuzzy.
“Are they all like this?”
“Some are fine. Like this,” Meg jumped to Jack speaking to Joni. “Perfectly clear as though a photograph. Not like these.” She moved through a series of stills, mostly from the elevator and hallways. “There’s a difference in the quality of the equipment.”
Ben perched on the edge of Meg’s desk. “Is it a matter of some being older than others?”
“I’d need to look at them onsite, but probably, as well as lack of regular maintenance.”
“Must be tight with the budget at the Bannerman building.” Ben’s phone rang. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Still running a search on the gun.”
He nodded, answering the call as he left the room. “Ben Rossi.”
“It’s me. What’s wrong with the yacht?”
“Nothing that some cleaning won’t fix. Crime Scene Services are done with it.”
“Is there anything new about the gun? Or…anything.” Ellie’s voice was strained.
“I just left Meg, who is still running a search on the gun. If anyone can find information, she’s the one. Andy spoke to the rest of the residents in the tall apartment block near the pier, but nobody had any information. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“I guess. So, if Dad didn’t make it to the yacht, who really did see him last?”
Good question.
Ben dropped onto his seat. “I’m going to go over my notes from the interview with Dennis, but he said something about Jack’s driver ferrying Meredith somewhere that day so he’d expected to see the Lexus in the carpark.”
“Except, it is in the garage at the house. Dad drove it home—we saw the footage of him leaving the Bannerman carpark. Can’t you get some warrant to make Meredith let you look at the cameras at the house? Actually, I just remembered our security room monitors it. Which means Dennis won’t let you look. But I can.”
“I’d rather you don’t, Ellie.”
She didn’t answer immediately, but he heard her sigh. “Then what am I to do? There’s no reason for me to not check whatever footage I want. I feel powerless.”
“You’re not powerless. I’ll need your help soon, but until I gather more information, there’s little to be done. Are you at work?”
“No. Home. There’s a storm coming in a few hours. Perhaps I should go and clean Sea Angel before it hits.”
“You’ll clean her?”
Ellie laughed, long enough to send a flicker of a smile to Ben’s lips.
“Of course, I will. Or did you expect Meredith to put on rubber gloves and carry a bucket?”
Ben covered the mouthpiece and spoke to Andy. “Were there people around the pier earlier?”
“Yeah. Another yacht arrived, and someone else was working on theirs.”
“I can hear you both. I’m perfectly fine to spend an hour on my...on Sea Angel. So, if there’s nothing else?”
“There’s nothing else. But keep an eye on the weather, okay?”
“You’re worse than Dad. Sure, I’ll take an umbrella.” Ellie hung up.
“Andy, can you find out who owns Sea Angel?”
“Jack Bannerman.”
“Are you certain?”
Andy scribbled a note. “Is this before or after the thousand other jobs you gave me?”
26
Storm Warning
The fingerprint residue had to wait. Ellie spent the first hour picking up cutlery, the contents of the pantry, bottled water, and the linen. The latter went into a large bag for washing. After being on the floor and handled by who knew how many people, she wasn’t about to refold it.
She opened one bottle of water and gulped it as sweat trickled down her back. The wind carried the welcome scent of approaching rain and the peculiar motion of the boat reminded her the storm was closing. Ellie didn’t care if she stayed on board until it passed. Sea Angel had weathered a lifetime of inclement weather, mostly out on the open sea, so a Melbourne storm wasn’t about to cause her any grief.
This done, she evaluated the work ahead. Fingerprint residue covered just about every surface. On the way below she’d seen the dust on deck, but that could wait. Hopefully, the rain would help a bit and if she remembered in time, she’d spray the railings and wheel with ammonia before the storm hit and let the rain help out.
For another hour or more, Ellie methodically worked her way through the yacht until it smelt as much of ammonia as the sea. Her half-interest in staying onboard disappeared as the first patter of rain began. She’d need to keep the hatch closed and would be ill from the fumes.
She requested an Uber pick up. After a final check, Ellie closed the yacht up and made sure Sea Angel was secure. Over Port Phillip Bay, black, heavy clouds scuttled to land. The wind was erratic, agitating the water close to the pier. All the yachts tossed around and sea spray splashed across the timber boards. Hair whipping around her face, Ellie put her head down and hurried to the carpark.
Out here was no real shelter, so she pushed her way into the bushes as much out of the wind as possible. Lightning streaked across the sky and she counted until the boom of thunder followed. The light rain intensified. She should have brought an umbrella, or at least a jacket, but here she was, about to be drenched wearing only shorts and T-shirt. Her phone showed the Uber driver as still minutes away. She backed a bit more into the foliage, careful to avoid sharp branches.
Ellie peered through the rain for a bus shelter, or even an open carport where she might wait. The residences along the street had high walls and she couldn’t see to the next road whether the apartment building’s entry was covered. She glanced up at highest floor. Someone stood on a balcony. She brushed rain from her eyes and looked again. A man—she thought. He stared in her direction. Was he watching her, or the storm? But even as lightning brightened the sky around her, he remained still, his face in her direction.
A car turned off the road and Ellie emerged from the bushes to wave. Thank goodness the driver found her. But Ubers weren’t generally large sedans and as the window wound down, she saw Ben.
“There’s an Uber coming.”
“Hop in, Ellie.”
“But I—”
“Get in out of the rain.”
She glanced up at the balcony as she opened the door. The man was gone. The window wound up as she threw herself in and shut the door behind herself.
“I’m so sorry to soak your car, I’m drenched.”
“Where’s your own car?”
“At home. Why are you here?” She pushed wet hair from her eyes.
“Cancel the Uber. I’ll take you home.”
“Please. There’s some news.”
A cold, sinking feeling hit her. With shaking fingers she cancelled the booking. “What…what news, Ben? Dad?”
His expression gave nothing away. “There’s been a report of a body in the sea.”
The pit of Ellie’s stomach dropped.
“No idea who it is, so don’t think the worst.”
“Where? Can we go there now?”
He shook his head and drove out of the carpark, windscreen wipers barely coping with the deluge. “Nothing to do until the storm passes. The…um, body is in a tricky spot among rocks across the bay. Stuck just under the surface.”
Ellie stared ahead without seeing. This wasn’t happening. Dad wasn’t dead, he was coming home soon from wherever he’d gone. Not lost to the sea. Jack Bannerman was a survivor. He’d survived his childhood.
Her hands gripped each other as Ben weaved through traffic without another word until he pulled up outside her building.
“Ellie, look at me.” His voice was calm, insistent, so she did. “Go into the foyer. I’ll park and meet you in a minute, okay?”
“You don’t need to.”
“Yes, I do. There’s a bit to tell you, and at least you can change out of the wet clothes. I won’t be long.”
She nodded and pushed the door open, climbing out into a flood from the sky. The concierge started toward her with a huge umbrella but she was at the entrance too quickly. “Thanks, please let Detective Rossi in when he gets back in a moment.”
Arms wrapped around herself, she retreated to one side of the foyer. The stairwell door opened but it was gym man coming up from the carpark level. He looked her up and down with a smirk.
“Share a lift?” he pressed the hold button.
There was no way she was getting into the elevator with him, not now, not ever. Something about the glint in his eyes sent shivers down her spine.
“Come on. You can drip on the floor as easily in the lift.”
Her head shook.
“I don’t smell bad, do I?”
If only you knew.
“I’m here, Ellie.”
Ben was at her side and gym man closed the doors.
“Something I said?” Ben asked, shaking rain from his hair.
“He’s…strange.”
They waited for the next elevator.
“Crossed paths with him last time I was here. Strange, how?”
The door opened and Ellie led the way in. “He runs around with a gym bag but doesn’t use the one here. I thought he was chatting me up one time then he told me he isn’t into older women.”
“A charmer. Do you know his name?”
“Gym man. No, I don’t and you are not to start suspecting my neighbours of anything.”
Ellie was shivering as her hair dripped down her shoulders. Her clothes clung to her and she avoided looking in the mirror in the elevator. Even her handbag was wet, dark patches seeping into the fabric.
The doors opened and Ellie glanced in the direction of gym man’s apartment. No movement up the hallway.
“Is that where he lives?”
“Yes.” Ellie headed for her own door and unlocked it. “Forget him. Tell me about this…body in the sea.” She dropped her handbag onto the kitchen counter to remind her to empty and dry it.
Ben closed the door. “Dry off first. You’re shivering, I can see it from here. Or have a shower and I’ll make coffee. Okay?”
He was already in the kitchen, so she kicked off wet sandals and went to her bedroom. After a quick shower, she’d make Ben tell her everything. It wasn’t Dad, she knew it in her heart.
27
Discoveries
Ben had no idea how Ellie survived in this apartment with next to no food in the fridge, freezer, or cupboards. She loved cooking and used to keep the freshest of produce on hand for the intimate dinner parties she hosted weekly for her close friends.
Used to.
Where were those friends now when she needed them? Probably driven away by Dennis Connor, a man who struck him as being more than a bit of a narcissist. When he’d been here a few days ago, Ellie made some comment about Dennis binge-buying French champagne during her time in London. Had the man really left his wife with so little to come home to?
Beside Ellie’s handbag on the counter was a small photo album. As the coffee machine heated, Ben flicked through the pages, stopping on the one of Michael surfing. Their shared passion of chasing the waves around the world once made them inseparable and introduced Ben to Ellie.
She’d captured Ben’s heart over late night tequilas with stories from her volunteer work in remote villages across the globe. At the time she was studying a double degree in culinary management and cooking and worked part time for Jack. Once a year, she’d steal a couple of weeks to help change lives. Until Michael’s life changed forever.
“That belongs to Dad.”
He’d not heard the shower turn off. Ellie didn’t look upset, it was a statement as she dried her hair with a towel.
“Some good memories in there.” Ben closed the album and went back to the coffee machine.
“It was in his safe in the library, which was kind of a weird place to put photos. I’ll take it back tomorrow for when he gets…”
The sudden distress in her eyes cut into Ben. He turned his back, finishing the coffee. By the time he carried two cups out, she was on the sofa, legs under herself. Her hair was still damp, softening into the waves she’d always hated and he’d always found cute. She stared out of the windows at the storm.
“Here, this will warm your hands.”
She took the coffee without a word, sat back, and gazed at him. Waiting.
“Let’s talk about this.” Ben sat on the sofa, but far enough away to give her space. “Late this afternoon a report came in about something floating on the surface at the base of the cliff at Black Rock. Initially, it looked like clothes, but a boat coming in from the storm said body. They weren’t in a position to get closer. Lots of underwater rocks there and as the tide came in, the body didn’t move.”
“Are they sure it’s a person?”
“Pretty sure. Some uniformed officers got there in time to have a look but the way down to those rocks is treacherous. Seemed to be wearing dark pants and light top.”
“We don’t even know what Dad was wearing. Ben, we need to go to the house and speak to Meredith, and to the staff. Someone must know!”
“And we will, Ellie. But not until this storm passes though.”
As if to reinforce Ben’s words, a clap of thunder rattled the rain streaked windows. Although it was early evening, the sky was dark. The last weather prediction he’d looked at warned of a long and damaging storm front.
“How would a body get there?”
“I’m not a tidal expert, but someone who is will work out possible source locations, particularly once we have a time of…”
“Death, Ben? I’m a big girl. Don’t feel you need to avoid using the words you need to use.” She sipped coffee, eyes never leaving his face.
“Sorry. It feels odd to be having this conversation.”
“Because it is me, or because it might be about Dad?”
Both, actually.
“Anyway, speculation is a bit pointless, but one possibility is the person fell. Or fell elsewhere and was carried by an undertow. Or drowned somewhere in the bay and the tide moved them. Until recovery and inspection, we can’t consider much more as we don’t know how the person died.”
“I’d really like a drink.” Ellie slid her feet onto the floor and stood. “Want one?”
“Yes. But you have nothing in the kitchen.”
“Bother. I keep meaning to shop, but you know what? There’s a supermarket on the bottom floor of the building next door and this building has an access door to it so I won’t even get wet.”
“I’ll go.” Ben’s phone rang. “After I get this.”
“B
e right back.” Ellie grabbed her purse and phone from the wet handbag and was out of the door before Ben got to his feet. But she was gone and the phone kept ringing.
“Yes!”
“Detective Rossi?”
“Sorry, speaking.”
“It’s Paul Dekeles here. Is this a bad time?”
Ben stared around Ellie’s apartment. “No, go ahead. How can I help?”
“We’re short staffed so I’ve spent some time in the control room. When it was quiet, I was reviewing some footage from the other day and found something a bit interesting.”
“Which day?”
“When the fisherman went missing. Ellie was with me when you called to get her down to the pier. Anyway, something about that morning stuck in my mind so I had a look.”
“And?”
“Dennis Connor fronted up late. I mean, late late. Got out of his car with his sleeves rolled up and no jacket. Tie all to one side, hair a mess.”
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”
“He is normally early to the office and immaculate. Never a hair out of place. But if you don’t want the footage, that’s fine.”
“I didn’t say that. At this point though, we don’t have permission to look at it.”
“So…I might just keep a copy in a safe place. And when you do have permission, I’ll be here.”
The connection was terminated. Dennis wasn’t fully on his radar. If this body was Jack, things would change. But Paul interested him. The man was a bit too protective of Ellie and Ben was fairly sure she wasn’t encouraging a relationship.
What are you up to, Ellie? Is he part of your own private investigation?
On the way back from the bathroom, a short hallway displayed several framed photographs. The one near the bedroom door was from Ellie’s wedding, a formal image including Jack and Gabi. Two others were scenery from Ellie’s travels, and then one of her with Michael on the set of his TV show. Ben remembered the day because he’d taken the photo and somewhere, he had a copy. “Damnit, Mikey.”
There was a tap on the front door. “I hope you’re in there!” Ellie called.
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