Challis - 03 - Snapshot

by Garry Disher

  Of course you can. Run and ask Nana.

  Relieved, Challis watched her leave the room, and then turned to McQuarrie. Sir, are you okay with this, my questioning her?

  I am. My wifes not.

  Does Georgia know her mothers dead?

  Some of McQuarries brisk superintendents manner had come back. Yes. Died and gone to heaven.

  Shes remarkably poised.

  Shes incredible. Shes finished her crying for now. Even so, well see that she gets proper counselling. He paused. If your questioning upsets her Im putting a halt to it, Hal.

  Sir.

  McQuarrie was the only super in Challiss experience who expected to be called sir by the more senior of his officers. Most preferred boss or even first names and affectionate nicknames. McQuarrie insisted on sir and Challis believed that it was a measure of the mans insecuritycompounded today by the fact that he was grieving.

  There was the distant ping of a microwave oven, and moments later Georgia appeared with a mug of hot chocolate, a frothy moustache on her upper Up. Ellen Destry came in behind her with a teapot and sugar bowl on a tray, Barbara McQuarrie with plain Ikea mugs and shortbread biscuits in a bowl, her disapproval obvious. She wanted Challis and his sergeant out of her house.

  When they were settledGeorgia perched on her grandfathers kneesChallis glanced at Ellen, who leaned forward and said, Georgia, we want to catch the bad men who hurt your mother.

  Georgia, small and tawny, shrank into McQuarries lap, hot chocolate splashing on his tie. I want my dad. Wheres Daddy?

  Hes on his way, sweetheart, McQuarrie said, rocking her. His planes already landed.

  What if they shoot him, too?

  Hush, hush, McQuarrie said, out of his depth.

  Were stopping this right now, his wife said.

  Challis signalled to Ellen and they got to their feet, but Georgia seemed panicked by this. Where are you going?

  To catch the bad men, Ellen said.

  Where?

  Well look for them everywhere.

  Challis was wondering if Ellens answer would add to Georgias fears, make her housebound, when Georgia said, But you dont know what they look like.

  Barbara McQuarrie said, Its all right, Georgia. Let the man and the lady go off and do their job.

  I know what they look like, Georgia insisted, recovered now. She climbed out of her grandfathers lap and left the room, returning moments later with several drawings. She aligned the edges awkwardly, shoving them at Challis. Here.

  Challis glanced inquiringly at McQuarrie, who said, The crime-scene people arrived before I did, and Georgia watched them sketching the scene. She came home and wanted to do her own sketches.

  Challis swallowed. Thank you, Georgia. These will be very helpful

  He examined the top drawing: a birds eye view of the area, showing both cars and her mothers body. There was a border of trees and a curious smudge amongst them. Is this...? he asked, indicating it to her.

  Thats me hiding from the man who wanted to shoot me.

  Uh-huh.

  Ellen came to stand beside him. There were three other drawings, and Georgia identified them one by one. Thats the man who shot Mummy, thats the other man in the car, thats Mummy.

  Mummy from before the murder, a woman with long hair and a big smile.

  These are terrific, Ellen said. Have you remembered anything else about the car? Maybe you remember some of the letters and numbers on the numberplate.

  It was just an old car.

  Well, thats helpful. Now, shall we sit and talk some more about what happened this morning?

  Okay.

  Ellen guided Georgia to the sofa and sat with her. Challis sat in a nearby armchair and watched and listened.

  You didnt have to go to school today, Ellen said, is that right? No lessons?

  Mummy had to take me to work with her.

  Was she meeting someone before going to the clinic?

  I think so.

  Do you know who?

  Georgia shrugged, a childs quick, jerking shrug.

  Did your mum notice a car behind you at any stage?

  Shrug.

  Did she say anything to you about being lost?

  Head shake.

  You came to a house and your mum stopped the car, Ellen said, briefly stroking Georgias forearm. Then what happened?

  Afterwards Challis was to remark on how fiercely Georgia had concentrated. There were two men, she said. One stayed in the car and she hadnt seen him clearly, except that he wore dark glasses and had a kind of round face. The man whod shot her mother wore a beanie and a jacket with the collar up, so she couldnt give a clear description, except that she thought his face was thin. The jacket was blue, no, black, no, blue. The car was kind of white.

  The gun was a little one, not a rifle, but it had something stuck on the end of it, and the man carrying it had chased her mother around and around the car. Shed undone her seatbelt to fetch something from her Hi-5 backpack by that stage, and so she was able to move about inside the car and follow the action. Then her mother had made a break for it and she saw the man point the gun and her mother fell to the ground.

  Did you hear the gun?

  It made a kind oiphht sound.

  Challis exchanged a glance with Ellen: probably an automatic and fitted with a suppressor.

  I wanted to go to her but I was scared and he turned around and looked at me.

  That was when she darted out of the car and ran towards the other car. I thought he would help me, but he didnt.

  You mean the man driving?

  Yes. He just waved me away, so I ran into the trees. I tried to hide but it wasnt a very good hiding place and the man with the gun could see me, but when he tried to shoot me nothing happened and he said something bad and looked at his gun and went back to the car.

  McQuarrie murmured, Any ballistics, Hal?

  Not yet.

  Automatic pistol, do you think? It jammed on him?

  Possibly. What did you do then, Georgia?

  When she heard the white car start up she raised her head and watched it leave. It made a lot of smoke. Yes, a white car. A kind of old car, she thought, with a funny door.

  Funny door?

  Not the same colour. Kind of a yellow. Look, she said, pointing to one of the drawings. An off-white car with a pale yellow door and the driver inside, his arm out of the window, presumably waving her away.

  If the original door was rusted or damaged, Ellen murmured to Challis, it may have been replaced by one from a wrecking yard.

  Challis nodded. It was a job for Scobie.

  Do you think you could look at some photographs for us, Georgia?

  That quick shrug again. Dont know.

  Pictures of mens faces, sweetheart, her grandfather said. You might recognise the men who hurt Mummy.

  Okay.

  If you do, he said, well catch them and have an identity parade. Do you know what that is?

  Challis let the super prattle on. Identity parades were only useful to back up solid evidence. A failed lineup was like manna from heaven to a defence lawyer. And the idea of putting Georgia McQuarrie through an identity parade was galling to him. Hed tried, and failed, to observe a distance with regard to the child. The job swamped you if you didnt learn to see the blood and the damaged flesh and lives as outcomes or problems to solve. But you couldnt go on thinking like that without giving the pressure some kind of outlet. Humourof the blackest kindwas a common outlet; booze; a hobby; the exclusive company of other cops. Without an outlet, your heart would fracture. That little girl with her wintry face...Challis didnt have children but Ellen and Scobie did. What went through their minds every day? Did they ever stop worrying about their kids? Abused kids, bloodied kids, orphaned kids.

  Is there anything else you remember about the two men, Georgia?

  What colour was their skin? Barbara McQuarrie wanted to know.

  Dear, please, McQuarrie said.

  Same as mine, Georgia sa
id.

  Challis rested his forearms on his knees. You couldnt see their faces very clearly.

  No. The man with the gun had a beanie on. It was all pulled down and his collar was turned up.

  Was he fat? Thin?

  Medium.

  Tall? Short?

  Medium.

  What about the way they spoke? Barbara McQuarrie asked. Did they speak English?

  Love, please, McQuarrie said.

  Its a fair enough question.

  Ellen broke in. What about the other man, Georgia, the driver of the car. Was he wearing a beanie, too?

  No.

  What colour was his hair?

  He was kind of bald.

  Bald, or had he shaved his hair off?

  I think shaved.

  Did he say anything?

  He just waved at me to go away.

  Anything else about his face that you can remember?

  He was kind of a bit younger than the other one.

  As old as your dad?

  Georgia screwed up her face assessingly. Younger.

  Anything else?

  Sort of a round face, a bit fat, Georgia said.

  Then she went alert in McQuarries arms as a door opened in the hallway and a voice called, Mum? Dad? Georgia?

  She hurled herself out of the room.

  Snapshot

  * * * *

  11

  Robert McQuarrie came in looking pale but composed, frowning a little as the clamouring hands of his daughter pulled his suit askew. Then his mother rushed to him with a small, incoherent cry, which seemed to break his resolve. He blinked his eyes. Finally the superintendent was clapping an arm around him in a clumsy embrace.

  Challis watched, unmoved. Robert McQuarrie seemed to notice him then over the shoulders of his parents. He had an open face, smooth and well tended, like his hands. A little button nose, inherited from his mother, gave him the appearance of a plain, over-sized schoolboy dressed in a costly suit.

  He broke the embrace and approached with his hand out. Robert McQuarrie, he said. And you are?

  Challis made the introductions, McQuarrie scarcely glancing at Ellen.

  Ill be available later, but right now I need to comfort my daughter.

  I understand, Challis said. He glanced at Ellen, and by unspoken agreement they edged towards the door. The superintendent followed them into the hallway. Youre going?

  Challis nodded. Im not sure that Georgia can help us any further at the moment. We may need to show her photographs of cars later, and mugshots.

  McQuarrie waved a hand as if to say, Of course, of course.

  And well need to speak to your son.

  McQuarrie looked at the floor, then up at Challis. My son is devastated by this.

  I can imagine.

  I know youre just doing your job. Im a policeman myself, remember? I know you have to eliminate him from your inquiries. But go gently, all right? Hes exhausted, in shock, hes just lost his wife. His daughter has just lost her mother.

  Challis nodded, waiting for McQuarrie to wind down.

  And he couldnt have shot Janine. He was in Sydney.

  Sooner or later, Challis thought, hell make the necessary leap: Did my son hire someone to shoot Janine?

  I understand.

  Should be plenty of witnesses, too. He was guest speaker at a seminar. McQuarrie gave a ragged sigh. Look, Hal, whatever resources you need, theyre yours. Extra manpower, overtime, anything at all. But for Gods sake keep the media out of this.

  Well have to tell them something.

  Its an unholy alliance, sometimes, police and press. But this is my son and his wife and daughter were talking about, so no quiet words in the ear of that girlfriend of yours.

  Challis flushed angrily. Ellen saved him. Sir, before we go, could you tell us a bit about your daughter-in-law?

  McQuarrie glanced at his watch, looked back over his shoulder to the sitting room and sounds of grief and bewilderment. Cant it wait?

  Just some basic background, sir, to get us started.

  Oh very well, come with me.

  He led them to a study, a cluttered, cheerless room at the rear of the house. There were framed diplomas and graduation photographs on the walls, golfclubs in one corner, a shelf of trophies, a ship in a bottle, very few books, golfing clothes tossed over a sombre leather armchair, computer, printer and fax machine on a leather-inlaid wooden desk. It seemed to Challis that McQuarrie had staked out this space as his own and his wife could go to hell.

  Another cup of tea? McQuarrie said, not meaning it.

  Were fine, thank you, sir, Ellen said, glancing at Challis to see if hed regained equilibrium.

  Well, what do you need to know?

  Challis saw Ellen take out her notebook and move unobtrusively to one side. Hed ask, shed record. Well start with her personality, sir. What was she like?

  Lovely girl. Good family.

  Shes a psychologist?

  Hashadher own clinic, in Mount Eliza, McQuarrie said. A very bright girl.

  Weve begun interviewing her staff and colleagues.

  Of course.

  Did she see clients at the clinic, or travel to see them?

  Both, I suppose. I dont really know.

  And today?

  McQuarrie was impatient. It was a curriculum day at Georgias school, which is another way of saying that her teachers gave themselves a day off, and when Janine couldnt arrange childcare she had no option but to take Georgia with her.

  Was Janine going to the clinic afterwards, or visiting other clients?

  Hal, for Gods sake, this is basic police work. Talk to her secretary, check her calendar.

  Sir. Challis thought for a moment about his next question. There was no easy way to ask it. Would you say that Robert and Janine were happily married?

  The super said, through compressed, bloodless lips, See? Thats the kind of innuendo the media love. That Janine had a lover and so Robert shot her. Or that Robert had a lover and wanted Janine out of the way.

  We need to examine all scenarios, Challis said, hating the word but it was a useful one and by now deeply ingrained in the police lexicon.

  To hell with that. I hope youre not going to ask my son that same question.

  Challis tilted his chin a little. Im afraid Ill have to, sir.

  And you know it, too, was the unspoken part of his reply.

  McQuarrie flushed. Just remember who I am and who my son is and who you are, mister.

  Getting back to Janine, Ellen said hastily.

  Lovely girl.

  Challis reflected that he wouldnt get more than that from McQuarrie, who seemed incapable of discerning individual quirks in people. Janine came from a good family, was successful in business and had been chosen by his son, so no further scrutiny was required. Shed passed the only tests that mattered.

  Poor woman. Had she struggled to be seen and heard by the family?

  Did Janine ever mention particular clients who were threatening or abusive?

  Challis watched the superintendent absorb the implications. No, but thats a promising avenue, Hal, very promising. Follow it up.

  Challis nodded, despite his reservations. Would Mrs McQuarrie have anything to add, do you think? Not now, perhaps tomorrow?

  You keep my wife out of this.

  Sir, I have no desire to upset anybody, but isnt it possible that she knows things you dont? Youre very busy, after all. Were they close?

  Janine was like a daughter to both of us.

  Yes, sir. How about her parents? Have they been told?

  Theyre both dead, Im afraidkilled in an accident some years ago. But there is a sister, Meg. Now, will that be all?

  Thank you sir, Ellen said.

  They were halfway to the car when McQuarrie caught up with them, taking Challis by the arm and saying, Its time I spoke to the media.

  Challis exchanged glances with Ellen and they followed the superintendent up the driveway to the street and the reporters, who were
standing with hunched shoulders against the driving wind. McQuarrie lifted a hand and said, I wish to make a brief statement, and confirmed that his daughter-in-law had been shot dead at approximately 9.30 that morning. Challis and Ellen endured; cameras flashed at them. Meanwhile McQuarrie had apparently cast off his grief and strain; this was the McQuarrie who wore a costly suit and carried himself with a military mans brisk snap and fearless gaze, like a British Army officer in a stiff-upper-lip film from the 1950s. He impressed the cameras, but it seemed to Challis that the man knew more about golf than crime, more about wealthy Rotarians than criminals or the police officers under his command. Tessa Kane arrived halfway through, earning a frown from McQuarrie, but he didnt falter, talking at length, answering questions, and finally clapping a hand on Challiss back, saying, This is the man who will find my daughter-in-laws murderer.