by Tara Moss
‘Hello? Is anyone there?’
The house responded with eerie silence. Lisa walked into the living room and her jaw fell open.
What is this?
The biggest shock for Ben’s wife was that the house was spotlessly neat. Ben was not a tidy man, left to his own devices. And there was an empty birdcage in the centre of the room. Since when did Ben have the faintest interest in birds, or pets of any kind? But that wasn’t all. The place had been more or less redecorated. There were knick-knacks and photo frames everywhere. Lisa walked across the living room to take a closer look at a woman’s photo on the mantelpiece. No way, she thought with disbelief. Does Ben have a girlfriend? Wait…she recognised the face. It was photo of Ben’s sister, Suzie, but she looked different, somehow. She was wearing make-up and smiling for a change. Lisa inspected another photo, puzzled, then put it down and backed away. Who was that—the soapie actor Ronn Moss? Then there was a cut-out of some television wedding in a heart-shaped pewter frame. A stack of wedding magazines. What was all this stuff? There was heart-shaped crap everywhere, and that horrible lavender smell.
Is he living with someone? Is he engaged to someone?
Lisa headed for the bedroom. She stopped at an awful streak on the carpet in the hallway, like red paint. So he’d managed to ruin the damn carpet? She shook her head with disgust. It would have to be recarpeted before it was sold. How much would that cost?
I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay for that. He can forget it.
The master bedroom was completely different to how she’d left it. And the bed was neatly made. Very unlike Ben. There were more of the frilly knick-knacks everywhere, and there was make-up on the dresser, alongside more photos of Ben’s damn sister. Lisa went for the closet and was shocked to find that it was nearly cleared out, with only some women’s clothes on hangers and a handful of Ben’s old clothes shoved to one side. She fingered an ugly flower-print blouse, confused at its presence in what used to be her closet space. Lisa walked to the guest bedroom and checked that out too. The bed had been slept in, but it too was neatly made. There was a stack of newspapers in one corner with a pair of scissors and some blank paper. More wedding magazines. It looked like someone had been making cuttings.
Lisa walked back into the hall in a daze, stepping over the stain.
How completely weird…
Had Suzie moved in with Ben? If so, things in the family had certainly changed. Last she knew those two barely got along. The Harpins had not been the closest family even at the best of times. His sister had not come to their wedding, saying that she had to work that day, which had seemed a poor excuse. Ben and Suzie only saw each other a few times a year—Christmas and birthdays. And didn’t she have her own place near the prison where she worked? Was she trying to move in on Ben’s money now that Lisa had left? There was always something odd about that Suzie. It wouldn’t surprise Lisa at all if she was getting greedy about the house.
Lisa stood in the living room feeling increasingly uneasy.
Why would he let her move in?
Come to think of it, it was more like Ben didn’t even live there any more. Where was all his stuff?
CHAPTER 48
Tuesday afternoon, and Ed had been loose for a full three days.
It had been seventy-two terrifying hours of waiting for a fresh body to turn up with Ed’s signature all over it. So far they had not found any unfortunate young woman who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. So far…
‘He still hasn’t shown,’ Detective Flynn confirmed.
Senior Constable Karen Mahoney grimaced. The detective-in-training was buzzing around Andy’s desk, unable to take her mind off the case.
Disappointingly, Ed Brown had not yet made contact with his mother, at least that they knew of. The telephone intercepts had not yet been fruitful. If she was the one who had helped her son escape, they were being very cautious about contact now. The warrant to search Mrs Brown’s apartment was taking more time—a common source of frustration. They needed to search the apartment for letters, notes or other information that might help to solve the puzzle and reveal any escape plans, or even better, suspicious traces of fertilizer, nitrates or even something more exotic that might have used to make the bomb. An exciting phone call picked up through the telephone intercepts would have helped their cause considerably, but in Andy’s eyes they still had enough for reasonable suspicion. As usual, the wheels of justice seemed to move far too slowly. The warrant would be issued imminently, Andy hoped.
And then there was the other lead Andy had. They would need some more evidence to move forward on that one…
‘When’s the briefing?’
‘In ten. You’d better get your arse over there.’
Andy was about to brief the task force on the Ed Brown escape. He was not heading the case as he had when they were first trying to track the killer down, but at least he was a part of the team to bring him back in. He knew all too well that if he had lost it and gone off the rails, he wouldn’t be part of anything. He was grateful for the opportunity. If he had been put on forced leave, he would never have forgiven himself.
‘Andy, she’s still not answering any calls.’
‘The guard, you mean?’
‘Yeah.’
He already knew that. Tracking Suzie Harpin down was proving hard, suspiciously so. Was she staying with friends? Family? A boyfriend no one knows about? Everyone seemed certain that she was single. She had a small apartment near the prison and by all accounts seemed to live for her work. She had not taken sick leave or holidays in years. Why now? There was something there that wasn’t right. Something…
‘You know those weird hours that Ed was keeping?’ Mahoney said.
He nodded.
‘Last night I got to thinking that maybe it was on purpose, that he was actually wanting to be awake for those hours because of this guard. Like they had some kind of friendship going.’
‘We’ll talk after the briefing,’ Andy said.
‘But what if she knows something? Apart from Ed’s mother, the pickings are pretty slim for someone who he would talk to. We need to find her. Maybe there’s some clue at her apartment. We don’t have enough for a warrant, do we?’
‘There is a small thing called “reasonable suspicion” that they may have told you about at the academy, Mahoney.’
As with the warrant for Mrs Brown’s apartment, they would need to be able to convince a magistrate via an affidavit sworn on oath that they had reasonable suspicion or grounds to believe there was evidence in Suzie’s apartment to connect her to the escape. Without that, they could not search her premises for the ‘fruits of the crime’, detonators, chemicals, wiring, nitrate and so on.
‘We’ll talk about it after the briefing,’ he repeated.
‘I just feel that we need to find this woman.’
‘I agree with you, Mahoney,’ Andy finally told her, and Mahoney’s expression changed. ‘Suzie Harpin may very well be important. Let’s hope she turns up soon. Just don’t get so fixated on this woman we want to question that you can’t see any other leads. You could get “linkage blindness” and not be able to see other suspects or patterns here. Now get your arse over there for the briefing.’
Mahoney left and Andy prepared the last of his notes. He had presented his notes on Ed Brown once before, when they were hunting down the killer the first time. Back then, they didn’t have his name, only the remains of his victims and crime scenes as clues. Now they knew almost everything about him, except the most vital thing…where he was.
Detective Flynn stood at the front of the room, feeling more alive than he had for days. In a way, he was in his element.
‘Thank you for your dedication to this case,’ he began, looking over the faces of the task force. ‘In your notes,’ he said, referring to the pages of references they had each been given, ‘you have a full description of the subject’s profile and particulars, and the details of his previous nine known murders,
and his recent escape from custody.’
He swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe that Jimmy wasn’t there. Andy realised he had never done one of these briefings without him in the room.
‘We have a serious time crisis here. It won’t take Ed Brown very long to work up the confidence to begin killing again. Let’s remember that the moment his murders started getting written up in the papers, he began picking off victims with a higher profile. He will want to rub in his escape, and I am hoping that this may be part of his downfall. Let’s not allow him to take any more lives before we catch him.’
Mahoney, who sat closest to the front, appeared deep in thought. He knew she was fixated on the guard.
‘This killer will do what he can to embarrass the police, and any individuals who attempt to get in his way,’ Andy continued. ‘As many of you are aware, I was singled out personally when I was in charge of the case. He attempted to discredit me and throw the investigation itself into turmoil by framing me for the murder of my ex-wife, Cassandra Flynn.’
Some shifted uncomfortably in their seats. It was a hard topic to bring up, but it was true and it was relevant. Andy knew that his police work was the direct impetus for Cassandra’s brutal murder. She had been nothing more than a tool for Ed to get at Andy. His ex-wife would never have been targeted had he not been on the case. This case had cost him so much, he could not bear to add up the loss.
‘Ed Brown does his research,’ Andy said, bringing the danger home. ‘He knows who we are. He knows who our loved ones are. We have to consider that he may have ways of finding out how much we know. He is a psychopath with a high IQ, cunning, and adept at manipulating any situation to his benefit. His escape shows a great ability to con his way out of tough situations. Let’s not underestimate him.
‘As you all know, we are watching Mrs Brown very carefully. The phone intercept has not yet picked up any calls from Ed, but we are hopeful. I’m also hopeful our search warrant will come in the next few hours. But there is also a new person of interest that I want to introduce you to.’
Andy took a stack of files off the top of the desk at the front, and asked that a copy be handed to each officer. Mahoney’s eyes widened as she received her file with a photo of the guard stapled to the front.
‘This, ladies and gentlemen, is Suzie Harpin. She is the night-shift guard for Ed’s protected quarters at Long Bay. Thirty-nine years of age. Single. No children. Parents are deceased. She has one brother, who we have thus far had no success in contacting. By all reports she is a loner, and she grew quite close to Ed during his time there. She requested leave around the time of Ed’s escape, and has not been seen since.
‘This woman is wanted for immediate questioning.’
CHAPTER 49
‘Hello?’
Lisa Milgate-Harpin looked up in the direction of the noise and frowned. She moved along the hallway.
‘Is someone there?’ she called.
She had been sure the house was empty, but there had been a noise in the kitchen. There it was again. A loud bang.
‘Hello?’ she repeated with apprehension. She reached into her purse and took out her keys, gripping them like a weapon.
Bang.
She stepped into the kitchen, her arm extended, and saw with relief that the window was wide open. The venetian blinds were catching the wind and banging against the window frame.
She exhaled and lowered her arm.
Now she was here she would get the Gaggia, and a few odds and ends like the Alessi corkscrew. Ben was out fishing with his mates, and she was tiptoeing around the house, freaking out at every little noise. Christ, he was a bastard. She would take what she wanted and he could get stuffed if he didn’t like it!
Then Lisa saw something that made her freeze.
She paused mid-step, her eyes riveted to the bloody mess in the kitchen sink, just below the open window.
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God!
She screamed.
It was a severed arm. A man’s arm, cut off at the shoulder.
CHAPTER 50
The stairs creaked under her feet. Loud disco music drifted up from the bar downstairs. A couple could be heard grunting next door, a bed squeaking. Suzie Harpin climbed the stairs of a run-down apartment complex in the Wan Chai district with a plastic bag of Chinese takeaway in her hand. She was prepared for a confrontation, if it came to that. Her face was set in a frown. She positively hated the apartment that her boyfriend, Ed, had rented for them with her money. She hated this place called Wan Chai. In less than a day she already hated Hong Kong. Why did they have to come here? Why? Suzie could never be happy here, she knew that already.
Wan Chai seemed to be a red-light district. Strip clubs and girlie bars lined the main streets, and there were tourists everywhere, mostly men. Suzie guessed it was the type of place people who lived a safe distance away visited to do lewd and unsavoury things in anonymity. Ed had explained that it was the best cheap and fully furnished apartment he could find on such short notice, in an area where people were conveniently slack about formalities like identification, home addresses, credit cards. But surely anything had to be better than this? Suzie couldn’t believe they had left the comforts of the love nest she had made for them in Sydney to come to this irretrievably hideous hellhole. They would have been so much happier if they had stayed; it had been a terrible choice for them to leave her beautiful, cosy house. Suzie felt she was taking a huge step backwards after working so hard to finally get somewhere. She had worked so hard.
She put her key in the door and turned the handle. It creaked. The plastic bag she was carrying caught on one of the rusty, loose screws that kept the door handle in place. She untangled it with a grimace. She entered the apartment and found Ed sitting at the kitchen table, just as she imagined he would be. He looked sombre. He didn’t jump up to greet her. There was no ‘Welcome home sweetheart, I’ve missed you!’, no ‘Honey, you’re home!’.
‘Hello darling,’ Suzie said, closing the door behind her and locking the bolt.
There was that smell again. Stale cigarette smoke. Despite the noise from outside Suzie had kept the windows open all day, but it did little to help the odour. Now it was simply loud and smoky.
‘Sweetheart, where have you been all day?’ she asked.
‘I came home and you weren’t here,’ he replied in an unfriendly tone. He didn’t even look up at her.
Suzie walked into the kitchen area and spread the takeaway out on the counter—sweet and sour pork, noodles, some kind of soup. As she watched, his eyes went to the food and then back up to her face.
‘I just went out to get some food,’ she lied, quietly seething. ‘I didn’t know when you were going to come back. I got enough food for both of us, just in case. Would you like some, darling?’
In fact, Suzie had followed Ed’s every move from the moment he had left the apartment that afternoon. Ed had camped out near a model agency called Wang Models Hong Kong for more than three hours until they closed up and everyone went home. He had then followed a couple of the young women from the agency to a restaurant in Lan Kwai Fong, a place swarming with expats from around the world, particularly Englishmen, Americans and Australians, as far as Suzie could tell. There he had drunk beer and watched the girls from across a steep, cobblestoned alley. The whole time Suzie had thought about confronting him. But she was interested to see what her boyfriend would do next. Eventually he had headed back to Wan Chai, not having even spoken to the girls from the model agency. He didn’t notice Suzie tailing him, barely a block behind. Suzie had bought the takeaway just before following him back inside the apartment. She wanted an excuse to have gone out.
‘Oh,’ Ed replied, uninterested. He didn’t bother to explain where he had been. Did he really believe she had spent all afternoon and evening pining for him in that sleazy little apartment? He actually believed she would sit around and wait for him while he went looking for that girl?
That girl. Makedde Vanderwall.
MODEL WITNESS FLEES TO HONG KONG.
‘In Asia we could afford to live like kings on the money we have,’ Ed had said only a few days before. ‘We can get married there, no questions asked.’ But she knew the reason he wanted to be in Hong Kong. He wanted to be there because of that girl.
I’m no fool, mister.
Suzie knew she needed to be patient. If the only way for them to move forward was to get this girl, so be it. She was willing to be patient, even help out if she could. She wanted Makedde Vanderwall off the face of the earth as much as he did. But what about his lying? Ed’s lack of honesty caused her pain. And his behaviour was changing. She was beginning to see that this might not turn into the romance that she had imagined. She’d had such high hopes. Every once in a while she would get a glimpse of her dream man—he would become sweet and affectionate, but then he would switch. He ran hot and cold, worse than the taps in this awful, run-down, stinking apartment.
He hasn’t proposed yet. When will he propose?
She hoped he wasn’t another of her disappointing loves. There was Michael when she was just fourteen, he was experienced and exciting, but it turned out he already had a fiancée. And the next year brought sweaty evenings spent in the back of Colin Garrison’s creaking car, and news that she had become pregnant. Suzie was sure it would be a beautiful baby girl, that her daughter Rose was in her belly waiting to be born. But he didn’t want her. Colin made Suzie kill her, and as soon as the abortion was done, he too was gone. She’d since focused her attentions away from wicked men. She got her first bird when her parents were still alive and she was living at home, and she called him Rose after her daughter. He didn’t sing like he was supposed to, and after six weeks Suzie stopped feeding him. The next one was a female. She lasted a little longer.
When Suzie met Ed, he was in a cage of sorts, and now that he was out he was not living up to his promise. Like the new little peachface Rose she had bought the day before Ed came. It sang beautifully in the store, but when she got it home it wasn’t the same. She was glad she had returned it and got her money back, though in truth she hadn’t known what else to do with it once Ed had convinced her she had to go away. But it wasn’t good enough anyway. When their feathers grew dull and the singing stopped, she knew they would soon be gone. Would it be the same with Ed? Was he growing dull?