by Garry Disher
When the walls seemed to close in on him he returned to the open space of the incident room with the McQuarrie file and sat and stared at a wall map of the area. The killers could have driven to Mrs Humphreyss house from anywhere on the Peninsulaor further afield.
Feeling Georgias sombre gaze on him then, he took out her sketches and arranged them side by side, trying to think his way into her skin: her vantage point, what shed seen, what she couldnt have seen, what she might have invented. Her representations of the crime-scene seemed to be truthful if rudimentary. Shed not shown the shooter as a monster but a man with dark glasses, a coat, and a thin face. The driver had a round face and a shaven head, and shed shown his arm hanging lazily out of the drivers side window.
Challis stared at that arm. Georgias sense of perspective was skewed but her pen strokes were generally clean and precise, which didnt explain the lumpy appearance of the hand. He picked up the phone.
* * * *
By late morning he was knocking on Robert McQuarries door in Mount Eliza. McQuarrie himself answered, demanding, with a red face, What do you want?
Challis had assumed the man would be at work. I need a quick word with Georgia. I cleared it with Meg.
Well, she should have cleared it with me. My daughters grieving, you know.
I must talk to her, Robert.
Again the guy flinched at the use of his first name, and glared at Challis. You think I did it, dont you.
It was a statement, not a question. Did you?
Absolutely not.
Challis regarded him. Then you have nothing to worry about.
With a kind of sob, Robert McQuarrie said, You showed my father the photos, you bastard.
It couldnt be avoided.
Youre a shit, you know that? Am I going to see myself in the Progress? Have you been flashing copies around?
Dad?
It was Georgia, peering around at Challis from behind her fathers legs. She wore a pink tracksuit and her hair had been freshly washed. Challis put his hands on his knees. Hi there.
Have you come to see me?
I have indeed.
Im in the kitchen.
McQuarrie, his face suffused with anger, stood back to let Challis enter. Challis followed Georgia to the kitchen, where she promptly sat at the table, a hot milk drink and half a honey pikelet on a plate at her elbow. Meg stood beside her, glancing nervously past Challis to the hallway. Challis turned his head: Robert McQuarrie stood there, and the moment extended, full of tension. Then McQuarrie turned irritably and stalked away down the hall.
Challis swung his gaze back to Meg and grinned. She returned it meekly and began to fill the kettle at the sink.
Georgia, munching the rest of her pikelet, said, I think I might go back to school next week. Do you think thats a good idea?
Challis glanced at Meg helplessly, then smiled at Georgia. I think that sounds like a very good idea. Do you miss your friends?
Uh-huh, Georgia said.
Are you up to answering a few more questions for me?
Uh-huh. What do you want to know?
Challis spread the photographs of Coulter and the other men across the table. Scobie had done a good job: there was nothing to indicate that the men had been photographed naked. Do you recognise any of these men?
She glanced from one to the other. No.
The man who shot your mother? The man driving the old car?
She shook her head emphatically. No.
He collected the photographs and substituted her drawings. Remember these?
Georgia eyed him brightly, seriously. Thats my name in the corner, see?
Yes.
Thats my mum on the ground.
Challis nodded. Im mainly interested in the driver of the car the bad men came in.
Ive got other pictures, she said.
Have you?
She left the room, Challis and the aunt exchanging polite, sad smiles. Meg passed him a cup of instant coffee. The central heating cut in and Challis felt warm air gust over him from a wall vent. He sipped his coffee: it was terrible coffee, weak, stale, and nothing would ever put it right: sugar, milk, or an extra spoonful of granules.
Georgia returned with three drawings. The situation was potentially morbid and unhealthy, a small child reliving her mothers murder through drawings and conversation, but Challis was reassured by the warmth and peacefulness of the kitchen, the fact that Meg wasnt chiding Georgia or hovering anxiously, and Georgias own air of wisdom and maturity. These are good drawings too, he said.
Two were essentially the same drawing, but the third showed the killers car in profile. Cream body, yellow drivers door, just as shed described it on the day of the murder.
Challis returned to the drawings that showed the driver, his arm hanging out of the window. It was a typical young toughs driving pose. And there was that same lumpy hand on one of the new drawings, the outline smudged.
Challis was wary of asking leading questions, so he pointed and said, I always had trouble drawing hands when I was a kid.
Georgia frowned. Was Challis criticising her drawing skills, or merely admitting to his own? First I did a proper hand, then remembered and rubbed out one of the fingers.
Rubbed out?
Does it hurt, Georgia said, if you get a finger chopped off?
Chalks went very still. I expect it does, he said carefully. Do you remember which finger?
She held up her right hand and gazed at it critically. This one, she said finally, pointing to her ring finger.
It was lunchtime when he got back to the office. Ellen and Scobie were there, their hard, tense, hopeful smiles telling him thered been a development.
* * * *
41
Raymond Lowrys wife was a small, discouraged-looking woman with drawn features. It was more verbal than physical, she said. She paused. Ray had anger-management issues.
She used the term awkwardly. Is that the expression Janine McQuarrie used? asked Challis.
Deborah Lowry shifted about in consent. They were in a CIU interview room overlooking the carpark. Ellen leaned forward and touched the womans wrist. You say he was more verbal than physical, meaning he did sometimes hit you?
Yes.
So you sought counselling.
I wish I hadnt!
Why?
I didnt know what she was like!
Janine McQuarrie?
She went right off, said men like Ray needed to pay, a simple rap over the knuckles in court isnt enough, they have to be confronted.
And she confronted your husband.
She could have got me killed doing that! He came storming home afterwards, slapped me around, said hed kill me, kill her.
Challis sat back in the plastic chair and folded his arms. Is he capable of killing someone? Do you think he did it?
Deborah Lowry shrugged, looked sulky, as if her choice of husband reflected badly on her character.
You were concerned enough to come here today and make a statement, said Ellen encouragingly.
Rays got a terrible temper. Who knows what hes capable of? Ever since he left the Navy hes been kind of drifting. His mobile phone business is struggling. He... she finished, gesturing helplessly.
When she was gone, Challis called Dominic OBrien at Bayside Counselling, who refused to hand over Janine McQuarries file on Deborah Lowry. Mrs Lowry is now my client, Inspector.
Ah.
OBrien pressed home his advantage with a tone of portly satisfaction. And I do not intend to reveal my own assessment of her.
Challis sighed irritably. The irritation apparently communicated itself to OBrien, who went on to say, However it is my judgment that Mrs Lowry is not a threat to herself, or anyone or anything else. Look elsewhere for your murderer, Inspector.
* * * *
At two oclock that afternoon, Raymond Lowry was brought in for questioning. Ellen led by saying, You used to be in the Navy, Mr Lowry.
Lowry examined his nails, a picture of bo
redom. So?
You travelled widely, ending up at the base near Waterloo. You liked the area, and when you left the Navy you decided to settle here with your wife.
So? repeated Lowry, glancing at Challis as if to say that he knew where Ellen was getting her information from.
A good place to raise a family and start a business.
Lowry stared at her.
But your wife doesnt live with you any more, does she?
Challis, seated to one side of the interview room as if merely an observer while Ellen Destry asked the questions, saw Lowrys jaw tighten. He took in the mans powerful build, large teeth bared in a mocking smile, and small ears tight to the head. Ex-Navy, now a shopkeeper who sold mobile phones: what disappointments drove him?
Challis slid his gaze sideways to meet Ellens and gave her a tiny nod. The tape machine was running. Lowry hadnt requested a lawyer yet.
You and your wife had marriage difficulties, Mr Lowry? Ellen asked.
Full of fake concern, and Lowry wasnt buying it. Nothing unusual about that.
Of course not. But not everyone seeks counselling from a psychologist.
It was stuffy in the little room and Lowry had hung his polar fleece jacket on the back of his chair. He wore jeans and a V-necked cotton sweater over a white T-shirt. Under it all he was bulky from steroids or the gym. He frowned. What are you on about?
Your wife saw a psychologist, Mr Lowry. Didnt you know that?
He shrugged. The Navy sent me to three bases in two years. That was disruptive. Plus she was scared Id be sent to the Gulf and come back in a body bag. Another shrug. Nothing to be ashamed about. Thats why the Navy has a counselling service.
Im not talking about the past, Im talking about now, this past year. And Im not talking about the Navys psychologists. Im talking about Janine McQuarrie.
Challis watched Lowry scowl. I suppose my wife told you all about it.
It doesnt matter how we know. What matters is your response. You said, and I quote, I could kill the bitch. Do you remember saying that, Mr Lowry?
Yep.
Well, did you carry it out?
Nope.
He was abrupt, unruffled, contemptuous. Challis leaned forward. You were angry. We can understand that.
If I was to murder anyone it would be my wife.
Shoot her in the head like you shot Janine McQuarrie, Challis said. Were searching your house and business, Ray. Are we going to find the gun you used?
You were questioning me on Tuesday morning. How can I be in two places at once?
So, who did you hire?
Look, am I under arrest?
No.
Do I need a lawyer?
I dont knowdo you think you need one?
Lowry continued to sit impassively. Eventually he said, Ill humour you for the time being.
Ellen leaned forward and said, Janine McQuarrie tried to empower your wife, didnt she? And you didnt like it.
Doesnt mean I killed her.
But it was more than that, wasnt it, Ray? said Challis, toying with his pen. Janine McQuarrie made contact with you. She confronted you.
Raymond Lowry shrugged indifferently. Challis slammed the flat of his hand on the table. She confronted you, Ray.
Lowry was unruffled. So?
Didnt that upset you?
Sure. But I didnt kill her and you cant prove I did.
Challis sat back and folded his arms. Were the first to admit that she wasnt very well liked, he said reasonably. In fact, many loathed her. She liked to confront people, particularly men. We can understand why youd want to punish her, get even with her. Tell us, Ray: youll feel better.
Lowry sighed, as though they were slow and needed the obvious pointed out to them. Youre describing someone losing it, flipping out, acting in the heat of the moment. Yeah, I admit, Ive got a temper. But as I understand it, the bitch was shot dead by contract killers, which doesnt sound like heat of the moment to me.
He gave them his arid smile.
Maybe you got very calm and hired those killers, Mr Lowry.
How would I go about doing that?
You own a mobile phone shop, Challis said. Is that how you kept in contact? You used cloned, throwaway phones to cover your tracks?
You thought youd got away with it, too, Ellen said, but we received an anonymous call from someone who knew quite a bit about the murder.
Challis watched Lowry with interest. Lowry merely shrugged.
Was that anonymous caller you, Mr Lowry?
Lowry glanced at his watch indifferently. If Id shot her, why would I call you?
Perhaps you only wanted to scare her, and things got out of hand.
I wasnt bothered by her, okay?
Are you protecting someone?
Like who?
You hired a mate. He let you down, but youre unwilling or afraid to tell the police about it.
Will that be all? Lowry was saying. Or should I ask for one of the duty solicitors? Perhaps he will make you see sense.
He? Ellen asked, amused. What if its a woman? Oh, I forgot, you have trouble relating to women, dont you, chuckles?
Believe that, if it makes you happy.
Especially clever, articulate, fearless women like Janine McQuarrie.
Why waste a good bullet? Lowry asked.
* * * *
42
Challis had no choice but to release Lowry without charge. Later that Friday afternoon, the car repairer called to say that his Triumph was ready, so he swapped the loan car for it and returned to the station, where he called the last briefing before the weekend.
Outlining the results of the Lowry interview, he said, We need more: warrants for his home and office phonesincluding any second-hand phones he may have in stock, and phones brought in for repairand warrants to search his house, shop and car. We need a weapon, ammunition, or anything that will tie him to the murder. Meanwhile, the funerals on Saturday. Scobie, I want you to attend, photograph the mourners.
Boss.
Challis rubbed his palms together. Getting back to Lowry. Ellen? Is he our man?
Ellen shrugged. Janine McQuarrie liked to confront people mainly menwho she thought were abusive in some way. She liked to rub their faces in it. She went too far, confronted the wrong man. But was it Lowry? She pissed him off, but as he said, Hal, he was being interviewed by you on Tuesday morning, just before Janine was shot.
Challis nodded. But that doesnt let him off the hook. He could have hired someone to do the job.
They brooded. Scobie Sutton said, Ellens right about the pattern to Janines behaviour. We know she confronted Lowry, and my wife has told me about similar incidents. By sending those photos to her husband and the others, Janine was being true to form.
So who else did she confront, said one of the Mornington DCs, and why, and in what way?
Challis cleared his throat. And were the photographs the first step, or was she following up an earlier, face-to-face confrontation?
All four men seemed shocked and puzzled though, Hal, said Ellen.