Disguising Demons

by Brigid George

  Carmen’s wide screen television on the wall to my left was to be the centre piece of the event. When the get-together, began I would start a slide show with images of Ram on the TV screen, the first one being the age progression photo. During the evening, other images of Paul Walker, sent to us by his mother, would scroll across the screen. Dusty wanted the people attending to go away with a full and true picture of who Ram really was.

  “He’s been misrepresented and maligned for far too long,” she had said. “It’s time to set the record straight.”

  I was sure the book she would later write to document this case would also go a long way towards doing that. The injustice which had been done to Paul Walker had incensed Dusty. She would do anything she possibly could to ensure the world knew he had never been an abuser of young girls. I wondered how the women who had accused him would react when they found out.

  As far as Carmen and the guests were concerned, the fiesta was being held to thank those who had been helpful to Dusty during her investigation. Dusty and I were the only people who knew about her hidden agenda to honour Ram, not only with a visual display but also by revealing who murdered him.

  Beth and Nathan had been invited as guests but also as paid catering staff. They were at the back of the room setting up a table of finger food which they would bring around on trays during the afternoon. A smiling Nathan appeared eager to start serving. Her fashion sense on display, Beth looked stunning in a simple grey cocktail dress. From time to time, she cast surreptitious glances at Rocky who was deep in conversation with Kellie near the drinks area. A long table adorned with an embroidered red tablecloth had been placed near the door and laid out with glasses, bottles of chilled wine and a jug of iced water for guests to serve themselves.

  The striking differences between Moose and Carmen, who were chatting together, made the pair look almost comical. Moose with his prominent tattoos and black T-shirt, shorts and well-worn thongs contrasted starkly with the diminutive Carmen in her magnificent gold turban, elaborate white and gold dress with puffed sleeves and multiple strings of chunky faux pearls.

  “Where do you think she gets her pot from?” Dusty had said when I commented that they seemed unlikely companions. I was still having trouble seeing Carmen as a marijuana smoker. On the other hand, given that she believed herself to be the real Carmen Miranda, I probably shouldn’t be surprised by anything she did.

  A movement caught my eye. I looked up to see Saya and Jag, both resplendent in their yellow robes, hesitating in the open doorway. Dusty hurried over to welcome them.

  Saya had been reluctant at first to accept Dusty’s invitation. However, she had been persuasive, suggesting his presence at the get-together would be an important first step in repairing the reputation of Sunyarta. Since the murder, gossip and misinformation had caused many in Port Douglas to become suspicious of the monks and the Sanctuary.

  After settling the monks in two of Carmen’s plush red armchairs, Dusty clapped her hands for attention.

  “Not everyone is here yet. But I think we’ll make a start.”

  Dusty glanced over at Carmen. A wide grin spread across the older woman’s face. Flinging her arms high in the air as though playing a pair of castanets, she twirled her way to the front of the room. Rocky, who had agreed to provide the music for her, picked up his guitar which had been resting against the back wall. He made his way to the front, sat on a chair a short distance behind Carmen and began strumming a lively Latin American tune. Rocky seemed to be able to turn his hand at any type of music. Carmen treated us to a dazzling samba routine. She danced with the vibrant energy of a twenty-year-old, hands flowing, body swaying and occasionally lifting the bottom of her flamenco style skirt. All the while, she smiled broadly and rolled her eyes in the way of the real Carmen Miranda.

  The performance brought Abbie and David in from the balcony to join those in the room who were gaping in admiration as Carmen moved with energetic grace through her dance routine on the section of the floor she had claimed as her stage. Saya and Jag looked on in mild appreciation.

  At the end of the dance, which lasted less than two minutes, everyone in the room applauded enthusiastically. Moose placed his fingers in his mouth to produce a loud whistle.

  “You’ve still got what it takes, mate,” he called.

  Carmen, grinning and barely out of breath, bowed and directed the audience’s attention to her guitarist.

  As our performers left the stage, Dusty stepped up to start the proceedings. With the vivid colour and dynamic animation of the performance suddenly over, she looked at first a lonely figure in her icy blue short-sleeved dress. She was wearing the turquoise flecked opal pendant I’d seen her admiring one day in the window of a jewellery shop. I wondered if Jake had bought it for her. As Dusty stood silently waiting for her audience to settle, I couldn’t help comparing her wild, fiery beauty to Ingrid’s fresh and glowing style of loveliness.

  I had no time to ponder further. At that moment Dusty signalled for me to start the slide show with a slight inclination of her head. I began with the aged photograph of Ram which would stay on the screen for a prolonged period of time.

  Dusty had only just finished introducing everyone when another guest arrived; an attractive blonde in a sleeveless black dress which accentuated her smooth white skin. Long hair parted in the middle bounced forward onto her shoulders. She looked around tentatively. Although several years older now, I recognised our latest guest from her photo. I’d almost forgotten Dusty had arranged a private car to bring Kimberley from Cairns airport direct to Carmen’s house.

  The room fell silent. Heads turned toward the new arrival. Carmen made to go and greet her but Dusty stopped her. I knew Dusty wanted to observe what effect the entrance of her surprise guest would have.

  For a split second I viewed those in the room as though they formed a tableau. Moose squinted. Kellie frowned. Saya looked thoughtful. Nathan and Beth smiled. Abbie had her head to one side, an expression of curiosity on her face. David stared as much in appreciation for the woman he was looking at as in surprise. Rocky’s expression was difficult to fathom: a mixture of puzzlement and wariness.

  Abbie’s curiosity turned to astonishment. She gasped.

  “Kim?”

  Kimberley smiled at her school friend, rushing to embrace her with a cry of “Abbs!”

  The tableau was broken. Murmured conversations began.

  Dusty gave the two friends a few moments to greet each other before clapping her hands once again for attention. She introduced Kimberley to the others in the room before resuming her speech.

  “One of the reasons I invited you all here today was to thank you for making Sean and me welcome during our stay in Port Douglas. Some of you have come forth with information to help with our investigation. Some of you have even tolerated being my suspects.” She turned and gestured to the image of Ram on the screen behind her. “I came here to find the person who murdered this man.”

  Chapter 41

  Dusty paused and looked around the room before continuing.

  “The police’s first suspect was Mr Moose Mulligan.” A grunt of disgust from Moose. “He believed Ram was the person who told the police about his secret plantation of pot. A snitch.”

  “The scum was even worse than that, wasn’t he?” Moose pointed at the image of Ram on the television screen, a look of smug satisfaction on his face that his low opinion of Ram had been vindicated.

  “Yeah,” agreed David. “Wouldn’t put anything past that twisted termite.”

  I was glad Joyce Walker wasn’t present. She had returned to Melbourne and would be updated on the progress of the case by Dusty later. Joyce and her husband planned a longer visit to Port at a later date to attend a special memorial for Ram.

  “At first,” said Dusty, holding up her hand for silence, “I didn’t know about Ram’s background. I looked around for someone who might have had a motive to kill this man who appeared to be no more than a gentle monk livi
ng a quiet life. I wondered if it could have been one of the other monks at the monastery. What if one of them was mentally deranged?” I saw Jag give Saya a sidelong glance. Saya did not seem to notice; his eyes were fixed on the image of Ram. “In fact, the possibility of one of the monks being a murderer was first raised by Joshua Edwards’s mother.”

  Kellie looked at Dusty in anticipation of her theory being confirmed. However, her expression changed to surprise at Dusty’s next words.

  “Josh wasn’t killed by the same person who murdered Ram.”

  Before Kellie could react, the door opened. In walked Jake. I wasn’t surprised to see him, but I was startled to see the woman by his side.

  Dusty paused. Astonishment scrolled across her face followed quickly by consternation. Was her reaction a result of Louisa Penrose’s reappearance or was it because she wondered if Jake and Louisa had come as a couple? The sheepish look on Jake’s face suggested he might have something to confess. I hoped he would not be so cruel as to take up with a new woman and, without telling Dusty, bring her along here. On the other hand, Louisa Penrose might not be a new woman, but the woman behind the scenes that Dusty did not know about.

  Dusty recovered her poise quickly. “Before I continue, allow me to introduce Detective Sergeant Jake Feilberg.”

  Jake, who was carrying what looked like an evidence bag, gave the room a friendly wave before turning to Louisa. “This is Louisa Penrose.”

  To Dusty he added, “I believe you know Louisa?”

  Dusty nodded curtly before turning to me with raised eyebrows. I was just as perplexed as she. It seemed Louisa Penrose hadn’t been using a false name, after all. But was she really a journalist? Did Jake know she’d been following Dusty around? What was her relationship with Jake?

  Nathan hurried over and escorted the new arrivals to the drinks table. He took the bag from Jake and, in response to a gesture from Dusty, carried it to the front of the room and placed it on the table next to me. Jake cast a glance back at Dusty and mouthed a message which I think was ‘Talk later’.

  “As I was saying,” said Dusty, “Josh was not killed by the person who murdered Ram.” She looked over at Carmen who was curled up on a two-seater sofa near where Saya and Jag were sitting. “Our kind hostess is a good friend of Kellie’s and was close to her son, Josh.” Carmen’s teeth flashed in a broad smile. “Carmen, you took something to Josh while he was staying at Sunyarta, didn’t you?”

  All eyes in the room were trained on Carmen. The suggestion that she might be somehow involved in Josh’s death had taken everyone unawares, including me. Dusty had said nothing to me about Carmen being involved in Josh’s death. I couldn’t believe this charismatic eccentric would do anything malicious.

  “Me?” Carmen sat up, looking genuinely confused.

  “You did take something up to the monastery for Josh not long before he died, didn’t you?”

  “No. I take nothing.” Carmen’s answer was emphatic.

  “Did Josh ever give you a package for safekeeping?”

  Carmen started to shake her head then stopped abruptly, realisation in her eyes.

  “Sí. Sí. Sí! I remember. So sorry. I forget before.”

  I was sure Carmen was sincere. She was nearly ninety and smoked marijuana; both those things can affect memory.

  “Now I remember,” she said. “I keep the book for him then I take it to the Sunyarta.”

  “A book?” Dusty seemed mystified.

  “Sí. It is a red book.”

  “Did he tell you why he wanted you to keep the book?”

  “He say his mother not like this book. She might find it in his room. He want to keep it to read again one day.”

  Kellie frowned. “Josh was an adult. I had no say over what books he read.”

  Dusty ignored her. “What was the title of the book, Carmen?”

  Carmen’s brow furrowed. “I do not remember. I think it is not a nice story. Josh, he say the book has much violence. Me, I think it is just a book. I do not think it is wrong for him to read it.”

  Dusty nodded. “Actually, the title’s not important. It’s the format I’m interested in. Was it a hardcover edition, Carmen?”

  “Hardcover?”

  “Was the cover of the book soft like thick paper, or hard like cardboard?”

  “Sí. The cover it is hard. It is a strong book. He give me the book. He put it on the high shelf in the cupboard in the hall. He ask me if it will be safe there. I tell him yes it is a safe place. He is happy. Keep my book safe for me, Carmen, he say to me. So I keep his book safe.”

  Kellie, who seemed to realise the significance of Dusty’s question, buried her head in her hands.

  “When did he give you the book, Carmen?”

  “Long time ago.” She paused in an effort to remember. “Maybe two years.”

  Dusty nodded as if this fitted in with what she had been thinking. “About the time he came off the drugs.”

  Kellie shook her head in disbelief.

  Dusty continued. “Then one day he sent you a message asking you to take it to the monastery?”

  “Sí, sí. What can I do? I take the book to the Sunyarta and put it where he say.”

  “Where?”

  “In the rocks; some big rocks. He tell me it is not nice for the monks to see the book. They do not like violence. So I must hide it and he will take it from the rocks.”

  Dusty looked around the room. “It wouldn’t be difficult to conceal a stash of heroin in the hardcover spine of a book. Josh must have hidden it there and left it with Carmen as an emergency supply; in case he found it too difficult to stay clean. Then one day while he was at the monastery, he felt he needed it and sent a message to Carmen.”

  As the realisation of what she had unwittingly done sank in, an expression of chagrin clouded Carmen’s face. “He lie to me. I believe him. I am sorry.”

  Kellie turned to Carmen and screamed at her. “Why did you do it? Why? You killed him!”

  A series of expressions patterned Carmen’s face: bewilderment, shock, shame, remorse. She seemed to crumple in on herself, like a balloon deflating.

  Rocky, who had been talking to Jake and Louisa, quickly crossed the room to stand by Carmen.

  “Don’t blame Carmen. She didn’t know.”

  Dusty’s nostrils flared, an angry flush rose in her cheeks. She marched across the room and stood in front of Kellie, glaring at her. “Don’t dump your guilt on Carmen!” She spoke through gritted teeth. “The only person responsible for Josh’s death was Josh.”

  “No!” Kellie turned her fury on Dusty, lunging at her with clenched fists.

  Dusty’s karate training was instinctive, her reaction fast. Her open hands flashed out to block Kellie, then she bent her elbows to protect her face and immobilised Kellie by somehow locking the other woman’s right arm around her body. Dusty was positioned to flip Kellie onto the floor but the fight went out of Josh’s mother as quickly as it had flared up.

  Dusty had reacted so quickly Jake had taken just a few steps toward them and I was only half out of my seat before it was over.

  “It’s all right, guys,” said Dusty, still holding Kellie in position. “We’re all good here.”

  Kellie’s body slumped. Dusty lowered her onto a nearby sofa. Beth hurried over with a shot of brandy in a crystal tumbler, urging Kellie to swallow it.

  “My beautiful boy. It’s all wrong.” Kellie gulped the brandy and handed the empty glass back to Beth.

  I couldn’t help wondering about Kellie’s outburst. Was it triggered by grief that her son had caused his own death or remorse that her accusation against the monks had been unfounded? Or was it something else?

  Chapter 42

  Beth sat down next to Kellie, receiving a nod of thanks from Dusty as she straightened up and made her way back to the front of the room.

  “Both Kellie and Moose had a motive to kill Ram. They both admit to being on the hill around the time he was murdered. Each of them had t
he physical capability to bash him over the head with a rock and push him over the edge of the cliff.”

  Kellie was too emotionally spent to protest. Moose let his feelings be known with a vulgar expletive. Dusty’s stern look reprimanded him.

  “Moose told me he’d briefly glimpsed the shadow of someone else on the hill that morning between four-thirty and five. That person wasn’t Kellie because she was there later – around five-thirty. I deduced that it must have been the murderer Moose had glimpsed. Kellie had an uneasy feeling, perhaps a sense of evil, when she was there. I think Ram was already dead by this time. That was what Kellie was sensing: the recent violent death of a fellow human being.

  “If I took those two people at their word, a third person had been there at the same time as Moose. This unknown person had killed Ram before Kellie arrived. Since no-one else in the town had a motive to kill Ram, I needed to seriously consider the possibility he was murdered by one of his fellow monks.” Dusty glanced apologetically at Saya. “Then my investigation took a dramatic turn.”

  I hit the appropriate button to move the slide forward to reveal a younger picture of Paul Walker.

  “I discovered Ram’s real name was Paul Walker.” Dusty gestured at the screen. “I learned he was a teacher who had been accused of abusing three young girls in his classroom. Now the possibility of other suspects opened up. When I found out one of those abuse victims, Abbie Kowalski, was living in this area, alarm bells rang. It was too much of a coincidence. I had to investigate the possibility she knew Walker was living in Port Douglas and had exacted her revenge on him. When I sensed Abbie had lied to me about being in Port the morning of the murder, she went to the top of the list of suspects.”

  “So she lied. Big deal!” David folded his arms across his chest and grimaced defiantly. “She wasn’t there when the so-called monk was murdered. That’s all that matters.”