A Royal Murder

by Sandra Winter-Dewhirst

  ‘Who’s Big Nose?’

  ‘Philip Hendy, the course director. I’ll download a photo and send it to you. It will explain the reference.’

  Rebecca spent the rest of the day trawling through a range of websites to find out all she could on Philip Hendy. She searched his profile on LinkedIn, did a basic Google search, and went into various business sites, including the Australian Financial Security Authority to search the bankruptcy register—often a surprisingly revealing search site. She called a number of people who had been associated with Hendy over his life, piecing together as thorough a picture as possible. Among many mundane discoveries, Rebecca discovered some more interesting facts. Philip Hendy was a serious gambler with large debts and had twice been bankrupted. She also discovered that Golf Australia had recently brought in auditors to inspect the books of the Women’s Open, as money had gone missing.

  That night Rebecca had plans to meet up with Penny and Lisa at Madame Hanoi’s bar on North Terrace for their regular Monday night catch-up. Rebecca had toyed with the idea of cancelling, given they had caught up twice in the past seven days, but tonight would be just them. They would be free to talk girl talk. Rebecca decided it would be therapeutic.

  ‘Hi, Lisa,’ said Rebecca as she walked into the bar. ‘Penny not here yet?’

  ‘She’s in the loo. We’ve only just arrived. I haven’t ordered drinks yet. What would you like?’

  ‘What about we share a bottle of champagne? On me,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘I’ll be in that!’ declared Penny as she returned to her seat.

  ‘Sure, if you like,’ said Lisa, sounding less comfortable. Rebecca knew Lisa viewed the champagne as an extravagance and also that she liked to pay her own way.

  ‘That’s settled, then.’ Rebecca got the attention of the barman and ordered a bottle of champagne and a plate of escargot to share.

  ‘Come on, let’s go through to the other room. This nude woman is showing me up,’ said Rebecca as she nodded toward the eastern wall of the bar where a larger-than-life-size painting of a Vietnamese woman wearing nothing but body paint adorned almost half the wall. Rebecca confidently juggled the champagne in an ice bucket, three glass flutes, and her handbag.

  The three of them sat at a bench table set in a dimly lit room surrounded by Indochine memorabilia. Silver-coloured pressed tin clad the ceiling and the bar’s splashback, reflecting the small amount of light created by dozens of low-wattage pendant lights.

  ‘What a week,’ said Rebecca as she popped the champagne cork and poured Lisa, Penny, and herself a glass of champagne.

  ‘You sure have a nose for controversy,’ said Penny.

  ‘Have you got a hunch who the killer is yet?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘No. Not yet. There are a few suspects with motives, plus one I didn’t suspect at all until today,’ answered Rebecca.

  ‘Who?’ asked Penny.

  ‘The course director, Philip Hendy. I’ve been doing a bit of digging on him, and it turns out he’s a gambler with serious money problems. And it looks like $50,000 has gone missing from the women’s tournament purse. Golf Australia is investigating.’

  ‘A gambler with money problems. Now there’s a surprise,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Even though he’s a gambler in debt and perhaps an embezzler to boot, what makes him a murderer? I don’t get it,’ said Penny.

  ‘It is a long bow at this stage, but having Pixie out of the tournament saved Hendy a $50,000 appearance fee that he no longer has to honour. It’s a bit of a coincidence that it is the exact amount missing.’

  ‘But why kill her? He disqualified her and thus saved the fifty grand. Wouldn’t murder be unnecessary?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘Perhaps. But I have a hunch Pixie would have fought Hendy trying to renege on the appearance fee. If she threatened him with legal action, he would have known that a legal case would put a spotlight on the whole thing, and it would have been harder to hide the missing money.’

  ‘Well that didn’t work. It seems the missing money was discovered anyway. And besides, why did Pixie get an appearance fee in the first place? Didn’t you say she was only number eleven in the world? Do they pay appearance fees to everyone?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘No. Not everyone. I understand the top five ranked players get a small appearance fee to turn up, but Pixie was in a different category. She was a real drawcard, always capturing more media than any other player, including world number one Mee Po.’

  ‘I bet that pisses Mee Po off,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Actually, it does. I spoke with a couple of the players who said Mee Po was jealous of Pixie for getting more attention than her and for allegedly getting more appearance money than her.’

  ‘Mee Po sounds like more of a serious suspect to me than Hendy does,’ added Penny.

  A waiter placed a large plate of escargot complete with snail tongs and two-pronged forks as well as a basketful of baguettes on their table.

  Lisa raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ve never had snails before.’

  ‘Go on, try them. They’re delicious,’ said Penny.

  ‘They reek of garlic,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Hopefully you’re not kissing anyone tonight,’ added Rebecca as she picked up a snail shell with the small snail tongs, stuck her fork into the shell, and dug out the butter, parsley, and garlic-covered slug.

  Lisa watched Rebecca closely and then had a go.

  ‘A bit chewy, but not bad,’ she said.

  As Rebecca raised her glass to drink the last of her champagne, she looked across to her left through glass doors that led to the casino’s side entrance. She knew Madame Hanoi was part of the casino, but normally she paid the rest of the building little attention. She put her glass down quickly.

  ‘Guess who I just saw entering the casino,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Who?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘Philip Hendy!’

  ‘Probably trying to double that money he stole,’ said Penny.

  ‘I don’t know for sure that he did steal it. But it does look suspicious given his history. I wonder how much money he’s playing with?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘Well, let’s go take a look,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Sure thing, Lisa. We all rock up and watch him, and he’s not going to be suspicious?’ said Penny sarcastically.

  ‘Actually, Hendy doesn’t know who you and Lisa are. I could keep hidden, and you two could spy for me.’

  ‘I hope he heads for the blackjack table. I like blackjack, and I can get real close to him,’ said Lisa.

  ‘You’re a gem, Lisa. Come on, let’s go before we lose him,’ said Rebecca as she hopped down from her stool and quickly paid the bill at the bar.

  ‘But what if he goes into one of those VIP rooms?’ asked Penny.

  ‘I can’t see casino management inviting Hendy to be a VIP,’ said Rebecca.

  The three of them passed the gaming machines and approached the games tables and the Chandelier Bar. They looked around for Hendy but couldn’t see him.

  ‘I think we should go with your hunch, Lisa, and check out the blackjack tables on the first floor,’ said Rebecca.

  They took the escalator.

  ‘I see him,’ said Rebecca as she stepped off the escalator and quickly moved behind a pillar next to the Platinum VIP room.

  ‘Where?’ asked Lisa. ‘We don’t know what he looks like.’

  ‘He’s over in the Cent City area, playing one of the pokies. He’s wearing a grey suit, and he’s writing something in a little book. Oh, and he has a nose to rival Pinocchio’s!’

  ‘Oh my God! It’s unnatural,’ said Penny, staring at Hendy. ‘And does Cent City mean what I think it means?’

  ‘Yep. It’s pokies where you only have to bet as little as one cent. It’s addictive, and no one ever stops at one cent,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘That’s disgusting. I just can’t understand it. And the fact we don’t even have one-cent coins anymore makes it even more bizarre,’ said Penny.

  ‘You’re both being
snobs again. It’s cheap entertainment. And not everyone has a gambling problem,’ said Lisa.

  ‘But why is Hendy playing a one-cent poker machine? If he does have as much as $50,000 to bet, he’ll be here until Christmas,’ said Penny.

  ‘Those one-cent machines can pay out up to $20,000 in a jackpot. And if he has stolen the $50,000, he’s probably already lost it and trying to win it back. He probably wants to replace the money before the auditors confirm it is definitely missing. Working in a bank, I hear of this all the time. People think they are only borrowing the money, and they can win it back before anyone notices it is missing,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Oh, it’s so sad,’ said Penny.

  ‘Stop being patronising, Penny, and follow me. Rebecca, you stay out of sight,’ said Lisa.

  Rebecca snuck a look around the pillar and saw Lisa lead Penny over to a poker machine next to Hendy.

  Lisa put a twenty-dollar note into the machine while Penny pulled up a chair and sat down. She looked grumpy.

  After Lisa hit the spin button a few times, Rebecca saw the machine light up and heard its bells and whistles. Oh, that would be right. They’ve won the jackpot.

  She was too far away to make out how much Lisa had won, but by Penny’s clapping and whooping, she thought it must be significant. Rebecca kept watching as she saw Hendy look over at Lisa and Penny. He began talking to them, but Rebecca was too far away to hear what they were saying. She saw Lisa take a slip of paper that the machine spat out and presumed it would be verification of Lisa’s winnings. After more discussion between Hendy and Lisa, she saw them make their way to the cashier where they bought tokens. Lisa was handing over her slip from the poker machine, but she saw Hendy handing over a wad of cash. Rebecca then watched them as they made their way to the blackjack table.

  Rebecca continued to watch for the next half hour as Hendy and Lisa played blackjack. It was just Hendy, Lisa, and the croupier. Penny watched. Lisa appeared to be piling up more and more tokens, while Hendy’s pile was disappearing. Hendy had to go back twice to the cashier, handing over more notes each time. At one point, Rebecca saw Penny go to the cashier and return with a bag, presumably for Lisa’s winning tokens. Rebecca couldn’t believe it.

  It was just past nine o’clock when Hendy turned his back on the blackjack table and started to walk toward her. Rebecca quickly withdrew from her vantage point and stepped behind the pillar again. But he walked straight past her on his way to the escalator. He had blown a considerable amount of cash, and he appeared to have no winnings, as he didn’t stop at the cashier on his way out. He looked dejected as he left. Rebecca watched him descend via the escalator.

  Penny rushed up to Rebecca while Lisa took her bag of tokens to the cashier. ‘I don’t believe it. She’s won at least $5,000! It was unbelievable to watch. So exciting,’ gushed Penny.

  ‘Wow, really? $5,000? Hidden talent. But what about Hendy? What information were you able to get out of him?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘He called himself Peter. So he was trying to hide. And he kept writing in a little leather-bound book,’ said Penny as Lisa came up to join them.

  ‘Yeah. It was weird how he kept jotting notes into this little book. When he closed it, I noticed he had his initials, PH, on it,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Maybe he was keeping tabs of his losses?’ suggested Penny.

  ‘Maybe, but I’ve seen him write in that little book a few times,’ said Rebecca. ‘Maybe it’s a diary. But why would he be writing in a diary all the time? And why when he is playing blackjack?’

  ‘Maybe he’s on obsessive,’ said Penny.

  ‘Come on, you two. My shout. At the champagne bar downstairs,’ said Lisa, grinning and already heading for the escalator. Rebecca and Penny followed.

  They sat on stools at the bar.

  ‘A bottle of Moët & Chandon. Vintage. Thanks,’ said Lisa proudly.

  Rebecca was pleased for her friend. She no longer appeared to be reluctant to indulge in champagne. ‘So what else did you two find out?’

  ‘That like most gamblers, he was very superstitious. He thought I’d bring him luck after I won $2000 on the poker machine. So he invited us to join him at the blackjack table. Couldn’t have worked out better,’ said Lisa.

  ‘And?’ asked Rebecca, watching the barman pour the champagne.

  Penny answered, ‘As I said earlier, he called himself Peter and never mentioned golf once. Said he was a banker. Which was interesting, given Lisa works in a bank. As soon as he heard that, he changed the subject.’

  ‘So how much did he lose?’ asked Rebecca, getting a bit frustrated at the lack of useful information.

  ‘Oh, at least a thousand dollars,’ said Lisa.

  ‘So what did you talk about for the thirty minutes you were playing blackjack together?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘About blackjack and about other blackjack venues around Australia and the world. He’s visited a lot of casinos. He said his favourite place was Shenzhen in Guangdong Province in China. He says there are eight casinos in that city alone. Can you believe eight casinos in one city?’ said Lisa.

  ‘But isn’t Shenzhen where that Chinese businessman is from? That Bo bloke who we saw talking to Sol Semler at Fino’s?’ interjected Penny.

  ‘Bo Yong. Yes, I know, but Shenzhen is a city of more than eighteen million people—it’s probably just a coincidence. Besides, Shenzhen is part of the women’s LPGA tour, so it makes sense Hendy has travelled there a number of times. Shenzhen is only just north of Hong Kong, so it’s a big tourist area,’ answered Rebecca before sipping her champagne.

  After a couple of minutes’ silence, Rebecca added, ‘So it sounds like Hendy didn’t give much away, apart from confirming he is a gambler, that he’s always writing in his little book, that he doesn’t want to be known to be gambling, and that he lost again.’

  ‘I’m hungry. Those snails barely hit the side. After we finish here, let’s find a place to eat. I fancy pizza,’ said Penny.

  Duelling Realities

  Gary

  Matilda Lambert lay in a foetal position on a bed in Leabrook Private Hospital. She had been heavily sedated. Detective Chief Inspector Gary Jarvie and Detective Alice White stood at the end of her bed. Gary was unsure if Matilda was asleep or just resting. He gently said, ‘Matilda? Are you awake?’

  Matilda’s eyes opened. She seemed disorientated.

  ‘Mmm?’ She lifted her head off the pillow and looked up at Gary.

  ‘Hello, Matilda. It’s Detective Chief Inspector Gary Jarvie and Detective Alice White. We’ve come to see how you’re getting on.’

  Gary was expecting Matilda’s psychiatrist, Dr Singh, to join them at any moment. Gary had left instructions at the nurses’ station that he wanted to see Dr Singh.

  Matilda tried to sit up but fell back on the bed. ‘I’m very tired.’

  ‘I understand. But are you up to answering a few more questions?’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘I was wondering, now that you have rested and perhaps are less anxious and confused, whether you have anything to add to what you told us the other day.’

  ‘I loved her,’ said Matilda, her eyes still closed.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I loved her!’ said Matilda more forcefully.

  ‘Who did you love, Matilda?’ asked Gary, wondering if she was still confused.

  ‘I loved Pixie,’ said Matilda as she broke into a sob. ‘I didn’t hate her, I loved her. I could never harm her.’

  Gary was taken aback. ‘Then why did you yell at her and give her such a hard time?’

  ‘Because she left me!’ wailed Matilda. ‘She couldn’t put up with my moods anymore. She said she had had enough.’

  Just then Dr Singh arrived. ‘I must protest in the strongest possible terms. My patient isn’t up to being questioned. Please leave. She needs rest.’ Dr Singh led both Gary and Alice into the corridor.

  ‘I’m sorry, Doctor, but this is a murder investigation, and we need
to carry out our investigation. I’ve left Matilda alone for a few days, but time is of the essence.’

  ‘You should have seen me first and not just barged in on Ms Lambert,’ protested Dr Singh.

  Gary was sensitive to Matilda’s plight, but she was a suspect, and now she had even more of a motive as the jilted lover of Pixie Browning.

  ‘Can you tell me about Matilda’s mental state, Doctor?’

  ‘You know very well, Inspector, that I cannot tell you anything without the patient’s permission or without a court order,’ replied Dr Singh matter-of-factly.

  ‘I’d like you to ask Matilda if she would give you that permission. I would prefer not to go down the path of a formal court order at this stage, as I don’t think that would be in her best interest.’

  Dr Singh glared at Gary. ‘All right. I’ll ask, but I can’t promise anything.’

  The doctor went back into the room and was absent for about five minutes. When he came out, he said, ‘Follow me to my office.’

  They sat down in a small room, with Dr Singh behind his desk, leaving Gary and Alice to squeeze onto a small couch.

  ‘Matilda has given me permission to talk to you about her illness. It is too early for a diagnosis, as it appears this is the first time Ms Lambert has received medical assistance for her condition. Any diagnosis of a serious mental illness requires months of observation but when I first saw Ms Lambert, she was showing signs of paranoia, anxiety, and depression. She was not able to stop her paranoid thoughts and was ruminating. Ms Lambert was in such a state that she wasn’t seeing the world as it is. Her reality was very different to others. She hadn’t slept well in months. I have given her antipsychotic and antidepressant medications, which appear to have stilled her mind and given her some peace.’

  ‘Has she said anything about Pixie Browning?’

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector, Ms Lambert gave me permission to inform you about her mental condition. She did not give me permission to divulge to you the content of any of our conversations. However, I will say that Ms Lambert has not said anything to me or to the nurses that could be used as evidence against her in a murder case.’