Disguising Demons

by Brigid George

  “She came in here.” Dusty scanned the faces of the people at the tables.

  A determined look on her face, she strode into the next section of the shop searching for her prey at the tables hidden among the carousels of books and greeting cards. I wasn’t sure if we were in a bookshop that sold coffee or a cafe that sold books. The mix of the two created a cluttered environment ideal for concealing yourself. Dusty’s mysterious woman must have done just that, then doubled back to exit the cafe without being seen because we failed to find her despite a thorough search of the premises.

  “You sure it was the same woman, Dus?”

  “Yep. It’s her all right. She was watching Rocky’s Cafe. I saw her through the windows as we were walking out. That’s when she bolted, when she spotted me looking at her.”

  Jake jerked his head in my direction. “She’s probably got a weakness for tall Irishmen.”

  Dusty turned to me. “Did you see her last night?”

  “I did not. I thought you were like, just having a lend of me.”

  She grinned. “Maybe I was a little. But she did follow us along Macrossan Street after we left the restaurant.”

  Thinking about last night reminded me I was now an engaged man but this was not the right time to tell Dusty.

  “Whoever she is, sooner or later she’ll have to explain herself.” Dusty’s nostrils flared. “I don’t like being followed round like that.”

  Chapter 15

  Jake accompanied us part of the way to where Dusty’s car was parked, filling us in on what he knew about Kellie Edwards’ son as we walked.

  Joshua Edwards experienced violent episodes, as a result of drug induced schizophrenia. Worried he was a danger to himself and others, his mother encouraged him to go to the Sanctuary, hoping he would find some peace there. During his stay, Saya offered him guidance and a listening ear; encouraging Josh to talk without passing judgement. Ram invited the boy to work in the garden.

  The tranquillity of the Sanctuary and the ready acceptance by the monks seemed to be exactly what Josh needed. He began to show signs of getting better. So much so that he decided to stop his medication – against the advice of his mother and the monks. One morning, not long after he ceased taking the prescribed medicine, Josh was found dead from an overdose.

  When we told Jake about our encounter with Kellie at Sunyarta, he was not surprised she’d been so angry.

  “She believes the monks should have taken better care of her son. Because she trusted them, she felt the monks had let her down. Worse than that, she believes they caused his death by supplying him with the drug that killed him.”

  Jake’s tone suggested he had little patience with Kellie’s grievances. While he did have a sensitive side as suggested by his sympathy for Ram in his lonely death, he was a man used to dealing with tough situations where decisions had to be made without the interference of emotions.

  “You didn’t take her seriously?” Dusty queried.

  “We found absolutely no evidence of foul play and no reason to think anyone would want to kill her son.”

  “Maybe he owed money to his drug supplier.”

  “Moose Mulligan, for example,” I suggested.

  “Josh Edwards didn’t get his heroin from Mulligan. I spoke to his drug supplier. Josh didn’t owe him money and, as far as the supplier knew, the boy had been clean for two years.”

  “If you know the creep is a dealer, why don’t you arrest him? Get him off the streets.” Dusty’s lips tightened into a hard line; her anger stirred by the thought of a drug dealer escaping the law rather than aimed at Jake.

  “I know he’s a dealer and he knows I know. But he’s smart. We haven’t been able to get the evidence we need to make a case against him.”

  I admit to being naive about this sort of thing. How could the police stand by and let a drug dealer carry on his business? My shock must have shown on my face because Jake reassured me.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll arrest him one day. When that happens, he’ll be off the streets for a long time.” A determined glint in his eye and the set of his mouth left me in no doubt of his serous intention.

  “And with your help,” Jake looked at Dusty, his expression softening, “the same thing will happen to Moose Mulligan.”

  “No problem. If he’s the killer, I’ll hand him over to you with pleasure before I leave Port.” Dusty always had unshakeable confidence in her ability to track down her prey. “Anyway, back to Josh,” she added. “Can we assume he didn’t smuggle drugs into Sunyarta when he first went there?”

  “He wasn’t permitted to take any belongings in with him and he had to undergo a thorough body search by a doctor before the monks accepted him.”

  “So you don’t know where he got his last heroin hit from?”

  “No. Someone has delivered it to him somehow. He probably asked a friend to help him out.”

  “Unless there is a crazy monk at Sunyarta as Kellie Edwards suggested.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “She’s clutching at straws. Users who are newly clean don’t need the same amount of the drug to get high as when they were regular users. They don’t know how much heroin to give themselves. They inject what used to be a normal dose, which is now an overdose and end up killing themselves. That’s what I think happened to Joshua Edwards.”

  After parting from Jake, Dusty and I drove to Portpaws Veterinary Clinic; a single storey building painted a soft muted green that was almost grey, similar to the colour of the continent’s desert flora. Someone once told me during my travels around Australia that the grey-green leaves on plants such as spinifex grass and desert peas reflect sunlight, thus enabling the plants to keep cool. The bullnose verandahs were also a feature designed to help keep the interior of the building cool.

  A faint antiseptic smell greeted us when we stepped inside. White walls and slate floors added to the clinical atmosphere.

  Kellie Edwards, wearing a white coat over her clothes, greeted us cordially. When she saw me, her face creased into a smile, spawning dimples in her cheeks. Her expression became serious again as she ushered us into a small office. She pushed a bang of her blonde hair back from her forehead and sat down behind the only desk in the room, gesturing us toward the two vacant chairs in front of it.

  “As I told you on the phone, I have a short break at the moment,” she said.

  The anger and resentment toward Dusty was not evident today. However, she was not entirely friendly either. Once again I was struck by her compelling face and the strong personality it conveyed. Her un-plucked eyebrows added strength and sensuality to her face as well as accentuating her violet eyes. Rather than emotionally volatile as she had been that day at Sunyarta, today she conveyed the impression of vibrant energy simmering behind a reticent manner – an air of restrained vitality coiled and ready to ignite.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have a cassowary chick with a bung leg coming in for treatment in half an hour.”

  “A cassowary?” Dusty’s eyes met mine. “You mean cassowaries are kept as pets?”

  In my mind’s eye I could see the six foot tall creature we had met on the beach. “Aren’t they rather large to be pets?” My question drew a smirk from Dusty. I knew she was recalling our ‘amusing’ encounter with Big Bird.

  “Oh yes, they’re big. An adult southern cassowary would be almost as tall as you.”

  “As tall as me,” I asserted with conviction.

  Dusty struggled to keep a straight face.

  “They have an appetite to match their size,” Kellie continued. “They can easily kill people too. The cassowary is the world’s most dangerous bird.”

  Dusty’s face paled. “I didn’t realise that.”

  I saw her apology in her eyes. She understood now that the situation on the beach could have been a deadly calamity. Vindication for me; I had been absolutely right to take the creature’s attack seriously.

  “Plus they can run fast,” I suggested.

  Kelli
e gave me a probing look so I briefly recounted my experience at Cape Tribulation Beach.

  She nodded her understanding. “The cassowaries at Cape Trib are used to people. The sneeze might have startled it, but it was probably just curious – might even have been playing with you. If the bird had been aggressive, you would not have come away unscathed, believe me.”

  Dusty shot me a look as if to say: See, it was just a bit of fun, after all.

  Kellie smiled at me. “The chick coming in today isn’t a pet. Someone found it dangling in a tree. Its leg was tangled and it was distressed. I’ll do what I can for it then transfer it to a refuge until it can be released into the wild again.”

  Kellie sat back with her hands in her lap, looking expectantly at Dusty. Although she obviously enjoyed talking about her work, she would not allow herself to be distracted. It was time for Dusty to state her business.

  Chapter 16

  “My sincere condolences on the loss of your son.” The genuine empathy Dusty felt for families who lost loved ones was evident in her voice, causing Kellie’s face to soften a little. “I am very, very sorry you suffered such a devastating tragedy.”

  Dusty paused briefly to allow the moment to settle before continuing.

  “I’m interested in the possibility you raised yesterday about one of the monks being a murderer.”

  Kellie’s jaw tightened. “I don’t believe Josh took his own life. Not for one second.”

  “You think someone injected an overdose of heroin into his veins?”

  “I know they did.”

  “What makes you think it was one of the monks?”

  Kellie raised her hand in a gesture of exasperation. “Who else?”

  “Isn’t it possible Josh managed to contact his supplier for heroin then accidentally injected too much?”

  A brief glimmer of doubt in Kellie’s eyes acknowledged that Dusty had raised a valid point.

  “I don’t believe that’s what happened.” Kellie really meant that she didn’t want to believe her son had weakened and returned to using. She wanted to remember him as a brave young man who’d fought his addiction and won.

  Dusty turned the conversation to the murder she had come to Port Douglas to investigate.

  “As you know, I’m looking into the death of Ram, the monk who was killed in February.”

  Kellie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry the monk died the way he did but his death is insignificant to me compared to the loss of my son.”

  A flash of anger seared through me at her lack of compassion for Ram. He’d never done anyone any harm and gave his time and energy willingly to help others. The man deserved some sympathy yet no-one seemed to be mourning him. It didn’t seem right. My indignation loosened my tongue.

  “Do you really think it’s right to blame the monks at Sunyarta for your son’s death?”

  Those violet eyes flashed and locked with mine. “He was in their care.”

  The unfairness of this detonated the next words from my mouth. “You’ve never lost a patient in your care?”

  “Hardly the same situation,” snapped Kellie. “Some things are out of my control.”

  I could have pointed out to her the same thing applied to the monks who offered a peaceful sanctuary to her son. How could they force him to take his medication? How could they have stopped Josh from taking his own life?

  Dusty, noticing I was still bristling, put a stop to any further indiscretions on my part with a question.

  “Kellie, I believe the day Ram died was the first anniversary of your son’s death. I hope you understand why I feel that is significant and why I need to ask you where you were on the morning of Wednesday February 19th.”

  “Unbelievable! You’re trying to turn me into a murder suspect.”

  Dusty remained calm in the face of Kellie’s hostile stare. “Eliminating innocent people is the first step in getting to the actual killer. If you help me with the investigation into the monk’s death, it could help me also find out how your son really died. If the person who murdered the monk is the same person who killed your son or supplied your son with drugs, I will find out.”

  Kellie relaxed with a heavy sigh. “Very well. If you must know, I went for my usual morning jog and then…” She lowered her eyes. “Then I closed the clinic and lost the day in a bottle of vodka.” Shame crossed her face. “I’ll never do that again.” She must have realised trying to find peace through an ‘injection’ of alcohol was not so different from what her son had been doing with heroin, even if her drug of choice was less dangerous.

  I was becoming restless, anxious for the interview to end before the cassowary arrived. However, Dusty had more questions.

  “Did you have contact with Ram in the days before his death? Did you speak to him, or see him in town?”

  “I did not.”

  “Did you go anywhere near Sunyarta Sanctuary the morning he died?”

  “Of course not!” Kellie ran her fingers through the bang of hair that fell forward over her forehead, pushing it back momentarily.

  Her defiant denial sounded sincere to me but I noticed a tell-tale gleam flash into Dusty’s eyes. When she was like this I sometimes compared her to a cat – a bright-eyed cat that had clocked a mouse. It’s the way she looks when she has detected, not a mouse, but a lie. I waited for her to pounce. She looked straight at Kellie, holding her gaze.

  “Are you sure?”

  Kellie didn’t flinch, maintaining eye contact with a cold stare. Without saying a word, she stood up, walked over to the door of the office and ushered us out.

  A van pulling into the driveway as we stepped outside probably had an avian passenger in the back. I didn’t hang around to find out.

  “Don’t you want to see how cute a cassowary chick is?” Dusty called after me as I headed to the safety of the car.

  “There’s a reason why that so-called bird has the word ‘wary’ in its name,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat.

  Later, when I started to apologise for losing my cool with Kellie, Dusty stopped me with a raised hand.

  “No worries. Doesn’t hurt to get interviewees rattled. You never know what they might let slip.”

  “She did let her guard down at some point, didn’t she? The Dusty Kent lie detector picked up something during the interview. Right?”

  “What an astute observer you are. Yep. I think she was near Sunyarta on the morning of the murder. I’m sure you noticed the slight change in her voice and the way her eyes darted toward the door when I asked her if she’d been at the Sanctuary.”

  I hadn’t noticed either of those things but I nodded sagely.

  “I wonder why she lied about that,” added Dusty.

  Chapter 17

  Two days after our visit to the veterinary clinic we returned to Sunyarta. This time, instead of walking up the hill, we took Dusty’s car which she’d again given me the honour of driving. Before going into the Sanctuary grounds when we reached the top, Dusty paused to take in the panoramic views of the Coral Sea.

  “By the way, if you were wondering why I didn’t ask Saya about Joshua Edwards yesterday…” I tried to look innocent. “It’s because I wanted an excuse to come back here and poke around a bit. I’m not convinced everything is as it seems at this monastery. Three unnatural deaths in the last few years. Two took place at the same spot exactly a year apart. Too many coincidences add up to…”

  “Evil?” I suggested, as we entered the grounds and started along the path.

  Dusty suddenly grabbed my arm, gripped it tightly and pointed upward.

  “Look!”

  My eyes followed the direction of her finger but I could see only the trees.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “A crow. On the tree branch up there.”

  By the time I’d focused my eyes on the spot she was indicating, the bird had taken flight. All I saw was a glimpse of black wings.

  I couldn’t understand why Dusty seemed agitated. “Was it a speci
al crow?”

  “Yes! Do you remember the other day when we first came here, and we stopped about halfway up to take in the views? I saw a crow in the trees then.”

  My blank expression must have revealed my lack of comprehension. Dusty rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in frustration. “That means the crow has been in this area for a few days. It’s an omen, isn’t it?” This was a good time to keep my mouth shut. Dusty shivered. “A single crow hanging around an area is a sign evil is present.”

  Dusty’s illogical belief in superstitions was something that always surprised me. I responded with carefully chosen words.

  “Right. Makes sense since a murder was committed here.”

  “That was months ago. The crow is not telling us evil happened in the past. It’s telling us evil is here now.”

  “I suppose that could mean the murderer lives here.”

  Dusty nodded, her expression serious. “Or it could be telling us another murder is imminent.”

  I thought it might be a good idea to dilute the power of the superstition.

  “Unless it’s not a single crow hanging around. It could be like, a couple of different crows paying a polite visit to the Sanctuary.” Dusty gave me a withering look and marched toward the main buildings.

  The yellow robes of the monks strolling along the paths added a touch of brilliance to the natural surroundings. The monks showed no sense of haste as they went about their daily routine.

  “Monks’ uniforms have come a long way since the olden days,” said Dusty.

  “You mean brown robes with hoods worn by Christian monks?”

  Dusty nodded. “Dreary. Must have been depressing to wear boring brown every day. The only good thing about them was giving us the word cappuccino.”

  “How so?”

  “Cappuccino comes from the brown colour of the robes of the Capuchin order of monks. At least that’s what I read somewhere.” She grinned and added, “Maybe there’s a delicious yellow Sunyarta spritz named after the robes of the monks here.”