by J K Nen
“Nothing is ever wasted here,” Anna-Maria explained. “All the waste goes here. We even use the laundry rinse water to make sure the plants get a good drenching.”
That night, with the stars out and a fire blazing merrily in the pit, they had dinner on the deck. The Rowe’s children had come over as well. Du, their oldest son, and his wife Fijian-British wife Delma owned and operated a bookshop and a souvenir shop in town. Jamie thought Delma resembled a Hawaiian goddess. Their beautiful twin daughters, with dusky skin tones and thick wavy brown hair, played with Sam and Randy.
Wile Rowe brought his all-Australian hippie-chick girlfriend Brenda along. She wore tie-died clothing, combat boots and sported blonde dreadlocks. Her pierced eyebrows and a nose ring fascinated Sammy. She plied Brenda with questions. Jamie silenced Sammy, only to have the little girl turn her attention to Wile. His heavily tattooed arms and shaved head also sparked curios questions from Randy. Wile also wore a generous amount of leather and studs. The amused couple appeared not to mind. Wile’s event management company in Sydney sold out concerts and gigs weeks in advance. The Rowe children obviously inherited their parents’ work ethic. Good food, wine and songs sung in time to Wile’s guitar stretched the evening to the late hours.
Oscar’s crowing jerked Jamie awake. She sat up in bed, disoriented. It took her a moment to remember where she was. The double bunker bed her children slept in was empty. She opened the window and heard their triumphant cries. They were returning to the house with Yal, carrying buckets of milk, baskets of eggs and bags of freshly harvested vegetables.
The highlight of the eventful day was a visit to the Three Sisters via sky rail. Jamie had her heart in her mouth the entire ride. Later they toured the historical township. It seemed all things New Age and Middle Earth, and anything outside secular religion, were here. Jamie, fascinated by the witchcraft stalls, browsed the wares at the stalls and shops. The strange smells, the burning incense were all too new. Her perception of European witchcraft referenced ugly old women in black shapeless gowns and conical hats, riding broomsticks with black cats for company.
The witches that owned these stalls were young and attractive. They were environmentalists who worshipped Mother Earth. She was astounded. The women publicly paraded their craft. In her own society, witches and warlocks were revered and feared. Villagers tortured and killed witches who had lost their power. The craft operated underground. No witch in her right mind would open a shop. Jamie bought a pack of tarot cards with instructions. Dried herbs and the bark from certain trees in the deepest part of the jungle on her island were packaged and sold here. She purchased some to take back home to show her family. It would make for interesting conversation. For starters, making the trip to collect these herbs was not for the faint-hearted. Whoever found these and packaged them for sale deserved an award for bravery.
“If tarot reading is a gift, how is it possible that I can read these?” Jamie asked the shop assistant, showing her the tarot pack.
The large, heavy-featured blonde woman, eyes heavily shaded with glittery purple eye shadow and black eyeliner, took a moment to reply. Her nametag read “Sylvie- Manager.”
“This is for beginners,” she said eventually.
Jamie did not want to remind her that she had not answered the questions. Yal and the kids pored over Harry Potter memorabilia at rock-bottom prices Jamie would never be able to afford at Planet Hollywood. They picked out backpacks, hats and notepads. Seeing the children, Sylvie’s stony countenance changed. She beamed at them, asked them their names and ages, and gave them a bag of lollies.
As they were leaving the shop, Sylvie handed Jamie a large crystal ball, as a complimentary gift. “What does it do?” Jamie asked.
“It will tell you your future if you have the sight,” she replied, flashing a smile that suddenly made her look prettier. “It also makes a very good lava lamp for your nightstand.”
Sylvie really should smile more, Jamie thought as she examined the ball sceptically. The object was indigo-coloured and opaque. What she was supposed to see, she was not sure.
Probably another money-spinner like the tarot cards, she thought wryly.
“Are you on Facebook?” Sylvie asked.
Sylvie asked her to like a page the shop was linked to.
“It’s called Solo Momanger, and it’s for busy, single mothers. You get a ton of freebies, like vouchers for babysitting services, movie tickets or even shows.”
Jamie quickly logged on from her phone. She noticed that a crystal ball cum lava lamp was a complimentary gift of membership. There were other freebies on offer. Jamie immediately signed up.
That night, after a feast of roasted chicken and freshly harvested vegetables, Jamie fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. They would need an early start tomorrow. Anna-Maria and Joe would be driving them to back to the city.
Chapter 12
The Winters mansion, stark against a backdrop of a cliff overlooking the wintry grey Pacific Ocean, looked as welcoming as the death chambers. News crews waited outside. Logan and Steele kept their windows up as the guard waved them through. Logan counted twelve cars parked in the massive driveway. Deliverymen laden with flowers beat a steady path to the door. A maid in an apron answered the door when Steele pressed the doorbell. Taking their business cards, she had Logan and Steele wait in the massive sitting room while she went to fetch Ted Winters. Bouquets of flowers crowded the sitting room and other adjoining rooms.
“Detectives, how are you?” Ted Winters, despite his lanky built, had a commanding presence.
With a perfunctionary handshake, he politely thanked them when they offered their condolences. His face was puffy, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. He led them down a corridor lined with well-lit display cases of antique oil paintings to his study on the east-wing. He pointed out Eve’s study on the left and led them to his own office. As Logan and Steele took the couch, Ted eased himself the armchair opposite. Up close, Logan noticed that he was youthful for his age, Handsome in a David Copperfield kind of way, wavy shoulder-length hair, long bony aristocratic nose and thin lips. He wore a black sweater and tailored pants. With skin so pale and blue-black hair, Logan thought he looked vampirish.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr Winters,” Logan began. “We will try to keep our questions as brief as possible.”
Unlike most wealthy men, Ted Winters agreed to speak with them without his lawyer. He made it clear that he wanted to make Jayden Amos to pay. His wife had been fine until Amos came into her life and compromised her safety.
“Mr Winters, I understand you and Mrs Winters were separated at the time of her death,” Logan ventured.
“Her choice, really,” he admitted. “I wasn’t exactly a model husband myself and I think she’d had enough of me fooling around.”
“Do you know if your wife was being threatened by anyone?” Steele asked.
“No, not that I know of,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I was persona non grata until she was...she passed.”
“I understand she attacked a few of your lovers,” Logan began.
“Officer Logan, may I call you Lisa?” he paused and continued when she nodded. “Lisa, Eve loved me ferociously.”
He admitted he paid for the women’s silence. Most were young with little by way of assets. The compensation package included a house, a car, medical bills and an allowance for three years until they could get back on their feet again. They all signed non-disclosure agreements. With one word, they would lose it all.
“How many women are we talking about here?” Steele asked.
“Eight women over six years,” he replied matter-of-factly.
Logan bit back a sarcastic comment.
“So there are eight women who had a potential bone to pick with Mrs Winters,” she said instead.
“They’d have a lot to lose if they did,” he replied calmly.
“They signed contracts with you, Mr Winters,” Logan pointed out. “It didn’t cover
the humiliation and pain Mrs Winters inflicted on them. We should not discount the possibility that they may have had something to do with her death.”
“It’s possible,” he conceded.
“Do you know if Mrs Winters had a close relationship with any one of her followers on Facebook?” Steele asked.
“That you will have to ask Kristin Karat, her personal assistant,” he replied. “She’s out right now, making the necessary funeral arrangements but Mrs Flores can give you her contact details.”
“Isn’t Melody Appleton her PA?” Steele asked, looking up from his notes.
“Melody is support staff, Kristin manages all her work,” he replied, appearing annoyed for the first time.
Kristin Karat was beguiling. Her thick dark hair tumbled about her face. She had the bluest eyes Logan had ever seen. A small upturned nose, luscious lips that looked like Botox had played a leading role and deep dimples, all adding to her plastic-doll prettiness. Logan and Steele exchanged a look.
“How long have you worked for Evelyn Winters?” he asked.
“Six months.”
“As what?”
“As personal assistant, Melody Appleton was my support,” she replied, flicking a strand of hair out of her eyes.
“What did your role involve?”
“What’s this?” she raised mocking brows at Steele, coquettishly pursing her lips. “A job interview?”
The woman was openly flirting with Steele.
“We understand Miss Appleton was her long time PA and now she is being relegated to a support role on you and Ted Winters say so,” Steele said, ignoring her feminine wil.
“Melody was demoted, which was why I was hired,” she replied, unperturbed by his tone.
“Who hired you?” Logan asked.
“Ted did,” Kristin answered. “He thought Melody and Eve had crossed the line between employer and employee. They had too many secrets between them.”
“So he basically hired you as a spy,” Logan surmised.
“No, I did my job and got paid.”
“What exactly did you do in your job?”
“I scheduled her appointments, made sure the bills got paid and that the kids were cared for,” she replied.
“How did Eve react to your appointment?”
“Like a bitch,” she replied. “Oh don’t look at me like that.”
She went on to complain that Evelyn Winters made life hard for her. She refused to give her any work and made sure Melody did all the work. Evelyn paid Melody’s wages. Kristin was Ted’s employee.
“Those women were tight and treated me like an intruder,” she said. “I even engaged a security firm for body guards and she cancelled them.”
“How long did she use them for?” Logan asked.
“She didn’t,” she replied with venom. “On the first day they turned up for work, she fired them out of spite.”
“How so?”
“You can’t deny that my looks are not exactly an asset when you have a philanderer for a husband. But the bitch took it out on me as if I was screwing him.”
“So you basically collected pay without ever really doing anything for Evelyn Winters?”
“Well, she only ever used me as the go-between, especially when I had to fly with the kids to Perth for weekend visits to their father. I was the messaging service for her husband. That ugly bitch Melody did all her dirty work for her.”
Steele changed tack.
“So did you notice anything unusual in the weeks leading up to her death?”
“Not really, I was left out in the cold. What’s to tell?”
“Like if anyone was hanging around?” Steele prompted.
She gave it some thought.
“There was some weird biker hanging around,” she said. “Oh, he tried to pretend something was wrong with his bike.”
“How did you know he was watching the house?”
“He kept stealing glances at the house. Then when a police car drove by, he took off.”
“Was this a particular day that things were heating up between Ted and Eve?”
She thought before replying, “Yeah, it was. He’d been trying to call her all day long. She wasn’t picking up, her mobile was off, and she was offline. He was so frantic, he even snapped at me for not convincing Eve to keep the bodyguard service. As if she’d listen to anything I’d say. He sent me to check on her. That’s when I noticed the biker dude.”
“Did he come by again?”
Kristin shook her head, adding that Evelyn Winters went missing three days later.
Steele typed up the report, restlessly wondering about Kristin Karat. Evelyn Winters had done the right thing in trying to save her marriage. Unfortunately, the hoped-for reconciliation never happened. Again, Z had robbed an entire family of its happiness. He also had a niggling doubt in the back of his mind. Kristin Karat still stuck at the job even when it was clear she was not wanted. It was difficult to figure her out. On a hunch, he called Sedgewick to look her up.
It did not take Sedgie long to hit pay dirt. Kristin Karat, born Christine Smith, had a colourful past despite her youth. She dropped out of high school and became a high-class call girl. Later she became Todd Evans’ mistress. Todd was another spoiled rich brat in Ted Winters’ inner circle. A domestic complaint had been filed seven months earlier. Kristin accused Todd of beating her up. She withdrew the complaint the next day. A week later, she was working for Ted Winters.
Logan would not allow him to reinterview Kristin Karat.
“What would the relevance be? Evelyn didn’t use her and she just collected a pay cheque while waiting for her nail polish to dry.”
“Well, she left Todd Evans in Melbourne and moves to Sydney to work for Ted Winters despite having nil work experience as a PA, let alone an education. Was she having an affair with Ted?”
“We are after a serial killer who has killed other women. I don’t see how another notch on Ted Winters’ belt will get us any closer to getting Z,” Logan retorted.
“There may be an angle here, Logan. Can we at least look it up please?”
Logan was torn. Steele’s hunches usually proved right. Right now, though, it seemed he was grasping at straws. Even Dr Maggie French weighed in on the argument.
“Talk to me Maggie,” she said.
“Think about the killer’s profile. He has the means to move around. He’s very wealthy. Maybe someone within that circle has something to do with all this.”
“But the victims seem so random,” Logan pointed out.
“There’s a pattern somewhere and we will figure it out. The killer’s profile suggests he may be somewhat eccentric. I think the eccentricity is what connects all the victims. I suspect the key may be within Ted Winter’s inner circle.”
“Ted’s circle are all rich playboys.”
“We don’t know that for a fact,” Steele insisted. “He is a business man and there may be friends who have other interests he shares. Please Logan, it’s just a hunch and if it’s a dead end, I’ll wear the cost.”
Logan nodded. “Okay, but first, let’s go talk to Melody Appleton. You never know what we might find there.”
Melody Appleton a half of a heritage duplex. They walked through a neglected garden to the front porch. A bird-less cage hung from the ceiling. Steele buzzed the doorbell. After three rings, a young woman answered the door. Her petite figure clashed with her heavy facial features. Small blue eyes, large jaw, wide mouth and a nose that appeared too long. Her eyelids were almost swollen shut. Logan wondered if choosing an unattractive PA was a strategic move by Evelyn Winters, given her husband’s wandering eye.
“Please come in,” the young woman invited them in after studying their credentials. “I suppose I expected the worst and now it’s happened.”
Melody had worked for Evelyn for four years and did everything for her, from managing her schedules, shopping, ensuring her home was well-kept to organising babysitters for the kids. She even accompanied the Winters
on holiday, staying in luxury hotels and flying by private jet.
“Did you notice anything in particular in the lead up to her kidnapping?’ Logan asked.
“Eve was an IT geek and loved her social media. She was on every platform- Facebook, Twitter, Instagram- you name it, she was on it. But there were times the work got too much and she would neglect them a little bit. That’s when I’d get phone calls trying to verify her location. The guy would ask for her and if I transferred her call, he would hang up. If she wasn’t around, he’d ask where she was. As if I’d be dumb enough tell him. But he did leave a message last month, and when she called him back, the number turned out to be fake.”
The detectives’ interest peaked.
“Did he call again?” Steele asked.
She shook her head.
“Did you have access to any of Mrs Winters’ social media accounts?” Logan rejoined.
“When she was busy, she had me log on to give feedback on her newsfeed, and she didn’t post anything then. Once she was done, she’d be back online with a vengeance. She changed her password every three months and shared it with me. Her password was the same for all her accounts, but on the day she went missing, she changed her password but never got to tell me.”
Melody’s voice trailed off as tears spilled from her eyes. Unlike Kristin Karat, Melody truly mourned Evelyn Winters.