Shattered

Home > Other > Shattered > Page 33
Shattered Page 33

by Gabrielle Lord


  ‘Who’s Donovan’s father, Natalie?’ Angie asked.

  ‘None of your business!’

  ‘It’s a tired old line,’ said Angie, putting her notebook aside and standing up, ‘but in a murder inquiry, everything’s my business.’

  ‘I know who the father is,’ said Gemma.

  Both women stared at her.

  ‘Come on, Angie,’ said Gemma. ‘I’m sure you’ve worked it out by now too.’

  ‘I haven’t worked anything out just yet,’ snapped Angie. ‘I’m still not convinced that this discovery of yours has any bearing on the case.’

  Natalie’s eyes turned towards Gemma in an appeal.

  ‘Your two families used to be thick as thieves,’ Gemma said. ‘You used to go away on holidays together. Until the row over that lottery ticket.’

  Natalie sighed, the fight draining out of her. ‘It was a crazy night ten years ago. Everyone had too much to drink. And I became really jealous about the way Bryson was carrying on with Susie Galleone.’

  Jealousy again, Gemma thought.

  ‘I ended up having sex with Dan,’ Natalie continued, her voice almost a whisper. ‘On the beach, like a pair of kids.’ She turned away, looking over her shoulder as if recalling a fleeting dream. ‘Next morning, I regretted it so badly.’

  Gemma recalled her behaviour in the front seat of Mike’s car and was happy when Natalie’s voice continued.

  ‘So I was actually relieved when the dispute over the lottery ticket happened shortly after. It gave me a legitimate reason for not seeing the Galleones any more. I felt so ashamed of myself.’

  Natalie placed her glass decisively on the coffee table. ‘Better not have any more to drink. It’s already affecting my brain.’

  She curled up again in her corner, hugging one of the large silk cushions. ‘I never thought I’d end up getting pregnant! Jade was already nearly eight. Bryson certainly didn’t want any more children. Neither did I. So when I found myself pregnant a few weeks later, I didn’t know what to do. I thought of having a termination.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Gemma, intensely interested.

  ‘Not sure now. Like I said, neither of us wanted another child. Bryson already had those other two from his first marriage and I was starting my career in law. But somehow, when it came to it . . .’ Natalie shrugged. ‘I just couldn’t do it. Must have been the hormones or something. Even Bryson came round too. He never knew about the incident on the beach.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘He doted on Donny. And then to find out that . . .’ Her voice faded away. ‘He’d been brooding over something for a while. I’d catch him staring at me or Donny in a really odd way. Donny’s like me; there’s nothing of the Finns in his face.’

  ‘That’s what the fight was about at the Police Association dinner,’ said Gemma. ‘Galleone probably threw it in his face. That he’d had sex with you. Because Bryson had stuffed up Galleone’s chances of that promotion, good and proper, with the sexual harassment claim put in by Leanne Morrison. This was his revenge.’

  ‘I was so worried that Bryson suspected. I do remember that he came home from that dinner pissed and in a foul mood,’ she said. ‘But then he’d been that way for some time. I kept asking him what was wrong but he wouldn’t tell me. We ended up having a fight. I thought it had something to do with the other woman. We hadn’t been getting on at all well the last year or so. Then not long after that I walked in on him and Jade having a terrible row. They both shut up when they saw me. After that, Bryson moved out of the house.’

  ‘You told us you’d thrown him out,’ Angie reminded her.

  ‘No one likes to admit to being left,’ she said. ‘At any rate, I don’t. But I was very relieved he was going. The tension had been unbearable. I was going through a very difficult time at work and I’d come home to him . . .’ her lip trembled and her voice wobbled, ‘. . . prowling around, smouldering through the place.’

  ‘Jade had seen the photograph of her father and Jaki Hunter in the Police Service Weekly,’ Gemma said. ‘She’s a smart kid and she worked out what was going on. She accused her father in that fight. She’d noticed the Venetian glass heart Jaki was wearing; it was identical in colouring to the beads he’d bought for her and you. And Bettina.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Natalie exploded. ‘His fucking harem! We all get practically the same little trophy from the sultan!’ She jumped up in pain and rage. ‘And to think I was in the shop with him, helping him choose different pieces in that gold leaf range!’

  Natalie picked up her glass and poured herself another brandy. ‘I remember pointing out those glass hearts. I probably chose the damn thing his bloody girlfriend was wearing!’ Her face crinkled and she sobbed. It took her some time to regain some poise, but even with the new brandy, it didn’t last long. ‘That’s so typical of Bryson! He just wouldn’t know how much something like that would hurt me. He never did.’

  ‘It would have hurt Jade too,’ said Gemma. ‘I believe she forced him to admit the affair with Jaki. Remember you used the word “cowering” about his behaviour when you came in on the tail end of the fight?’

  ‘But why does she hate me so much? What have I done?’ asked Natalie.

  ‘You’ll have to ask her,’ said Gemma. ‘But it’s pretty clear she’s sensed the deceit and intrigue in the atmosphere.’

  She’d promised to bring Jade home to Natalie, Gemma thought, but instead she’d facilitated the girl’s flight north and it was time for her to come clean.

  ‘I can tell you that Jade’s gone to stay with some friends in Byron Bay,’ she said.

  ‘Byron?’ Natalie frowned. ‘The Lawrences? Why would she go up there?’

  In the ensuing silence, Gemma drew out her copy of the I think he knows letter.

  ‘And you wrote this?’ she asked, holding it up. ‘We found this in Bryson’s papers too.’

  Natalie glared at the note and tossed the remains of the third drink down. ‘He must have intercepted it. I wrote that to Dan Galleone. I wanted to talk to him, tell him that I thought Bryson had found out about our little indiscretion of a decade ago. I thought I’d left it in the stationery box. When I went to post it, I couldn’t find it and thought I must have done it already.’

  ‘Does Galleone know Donovan is his son?’

  Natalie fixed Gemma with a hard stare. ‘Donny is my son,’ she said. ‘That’s all that matters to me. And it doesn’t matter to me very much which of those two men fathered Donny. It’s three minutes’ work.’

  ‘Three minutes’ work that could matter a great deal to both men,’ said Gemma. ‘Your husband loved and supported Donny for nine years.’

  Again, Natalie’s face crinkled. ‘I know,’ she cried. ‘And then it was all taken away from him. He obviously found out, and then before we could even talk about it, before I could even –’

  She broke off and threw a hard look at Gemma. ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ she said. ‘I’m not hanging round here any more answering your questions. Send me your bill and I’ll pay it as soon as I can.’

  ‘You want me off the case?’

  ‘You should never have been on it. None of this would have come out.’

  Gemma supposed that in a back-handed way this was a compliment.

  ‘I’d better not drive,’ Natalie stated. ‘Angie, can I get a lift with you to the hospital?’

  Angie raised an inquiring eyebrow at Gemma. ‘I’m not going in that direction, but perhaps Gemma could drop you on her way home.’

  And so once more Gemma found herself taking the now almost familiar road from Lane Cove to the hospital. During the drive, she felt the atmosphere change as Natalie’s bristling defensiveness evaporated.

  ‘I’m sorry I abused you,’ said Natalie. ‘I was out of order. It was the shock.’

  Gemma merely nodded.


  •

  A few moments later, she’d dropped Natalie off and was just pulling away when she saw Findlay Finn, head down, walking quickly out of the hospital entrance.

  ‘Findlay!’ she called, stopping her car in a highly illegal bay. He came over to stand near the window, hands in his pockets, his face wary.

  ‘You didn’t call,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it polite to ring a man and say thanks for a lovely evening?’

  ‘How’s Donny?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘He’s a lot better. He’s not a bad kid, actually. I never could see why Bettina doted on him before. But he likes painting, he told me.’

  Gemma got out of the car, uncomfortable with him standing over her.

  ‘He’s remembered pretty well everything now,’ said Findlay. ‘That’s why he screamed the other day. Remembered seeing his father and auntie lying on the ground bleeding. He can’t stop talking about it, seems to want to get it out of his system.’

  Some people make a painting out of it; others keep seeing it like a nightmare and need to talk about it, Gemma thought.

  ‘I see they’ve got the little tart who brought down the house of Bryson Finn,’ said Findlay.

  ‘You think so?’ Gemma asked.

  ‘He used to bring her to the house – my house, you know. They thought I never knew.’ He flashed one of his rare smiles but it wasn’t pleasant. ‘I’ve got some very interesting images on the memory card of my digital camera. I look forward to making many provocative paintings.’

  ‘Of Bryson and Jaki?’ asked Gemma.

  ‘Having sex. What do you think?’ he said.

  ‘I can’t believe they’d be so indiscreet as to do it in front of an audience.’

  ‘They didn’t know there was an audience,’ he laughed.

  Images of the spyhole in the wall at the Bates’ Motel in Hitchcock’s film flashed into Gemma’s mind. Findlay Finn was seriously psycho.

  ‘When people think they’re alone in a house,’ he continued, ‘there’s no reason to close doors.’

  That was some relief, Gemma thought, from the perv in the next room peering through a hole drilled in the wall. Still, she was aghast at Jaki’s misguided passion being immortalised in paint.

  The loud honking of a laundry van made Gemma jump. She waved a placatory gesture to the driver. Findlay was already walking away as Gemma drove out of the entrance area and found a parking space. She was keen to see Donny again, now that he wanted to talk.

  By the time she got to the ward, Donovan and his mother were sitting close to each other, Natalie’s arm around her son, a Harry Potter book in her lap.

  ‘Darling, this is Gemma,’ Natalie said as Gemma approached. ‘She’s been helping me. You’ve already met her, but might have forgotten.’

  Donovan’s huge eyes were focused on his mother.

  ‘He’s been telling me what happened,’ said Natalie. ‘How he heard his father’s voice . . .’ she stumbled over the words, ‘. . . telling Bettina something about a test and being very angry.’

  ‘Maybe Donny should tell me himself,’ said Gemma.

  Donny looked inquiringly at his mother. ‘It’s okay, darling,’ Natalie said. ‘You can tell Gemma about it.’

  Donovan slowly looked round at Gemma, then flashed another glance at his mother who gave him an encouraging pat.

  ‘Dad was very angry about a test,’ the boy whispered. ‘I don’t know what the test was about, but he didn’t like it and he was telling Auntie that he was . . .’ the boy’s lips trembled, ‘. . . going to divorce Mum.’

  This was very hard for him, Gemma could see, feeling a kindred empathy. Hurt and angry as well as grieving, and with his father now dead, there was nowhere for the boy to take these powerful feelings.

  ‘He said he got a letter from “the problem”. Then he said he wasn’t my father, and then he turned around and saw me listening and yelled. I got scared and ran away.’

  ‘Upstairs?’ Gemma asked.

  Donny nodded. ‘I started crying and I ran upstairs and went into my sleep-over room.’

  ‘And then?’ Gemma held her breath.

  ‘Someone knocked on the door and I thought it was Mum.’

  ‘Was it?’

  Donovan looked at his mother. Then he shook his head.

  ‘Tell me,’ said Gemma, keeping her voice calm and slow, ‘what did you do then, Donny?’

  ‘I started to come downstairs and I heard some funny popping noises. Then I saw Dad and Auntie lying on the floor and there was lots of blood and the front door was open. I was really scared. I couldn’t move.’

  Natalie tightened her embrace, and with her other hand reached for her son’s.

  ‘There was someone at the door with a gun,’ Donny whispered.

  Gemma exhaled. ‘Donny, who was that person?’

  Donny’s face crumpled. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t see him. I was only looking at the gun. And then something made me fall down and I woke up in here.’

  Him, thought Gemma.

  ‘It was a man with the gun?’ she asked.

  Donny nodded. ‘I could see his trousers.’

  ‘What colour were they?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Donny, why did you scream when you woke up here?’ Gemma asked. ‘Do you remember that?’

  Again the crumpling face, the valiant effort not to cry, as he nodded. ‘I was really scared.’

  ‘Why, Donny?’

  ‘I didn’t know where I was,’ he whispered, after a pause. ‘And I couldn’t move. I thought I was tied up and someone was going to kill me.’

  ‘Someone? Who?’

  Donny shook his head. ‘Just someone,’ he said.

  ‘Donny,’ said Gemma, ‘are you sure it was a man with the gun?’

  A solemn, frightened stare, then the boy looked from Gemma to his mother. ‘I saw his trousers and boots.’

  •

  ‘Are you trying to tell me that Donovan said it was a man at the front door that night?’ Angie asked when Gemma called her as she was driving home.

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Gemma.

  ‘Did he see the face?’

  ‘He said he couldn’t take his eyes off the weapon.’

  ‘I know what you’re up to. This is another of your attempts to pull together unimportant bits and pieces to help Jaki!’ Angie’s voice was angry. ‘Keep this up and I’ll stop answering your calls, Gemma.’

  ‘But don’t you see?’ Gemma entreated. ‘If it was his mother on the doorstep, of course he’d focus on something else.’

  ‘It’s called “weapon focus” and it’s a well-documented phenomenon. You know that too – everything else is excluded. Look, Gemma, we’ve made an arrest. I’m all for keeping an open mind, but you’re trying to counter the hard facts of physical evidence with vague possibilities.’

  ‘Angie, Jaki’s been set up!’

  ‘Sure,’ said Angie. ‘And by whom? Who’s going to go to all that trouble? You’re paranoid.’

  ‘A jealous wife?’ Gemma offered.

  ‘How is she going to get hold of genetic material? Can you imagine her letting her son haemorrhage to death while she hops around the house rubbing Jaki’s DNA all over the place? I’m starting to think you’re going the same way as my fluffy-duck girlfriend at Parramatta. Hormonal brain-softening.’

  ‘Donny said,’ Gemma continued doggedly, ‘that the reason he screamed when he woke up was because he thought someone was coming to kill him. Why on earth would he be thinking that as his mother walked towards him, unless he had cause to connect her with violence?’

  ‘This is getting boring,’ said Angie. ‘You’re going to have to do better than this.’

  ‘It’s a fact,’ Gemma persisted, ‘that sever
al people other than Jaki had reason to want Bryson Finn dead.’

  ‘Not good enough.’

  ‘He was a superintendent in the NSW police and an arrogant prick – as his brother has pointed out. Reason enough for lots of resentment. And how long do you think Natalie can keep the lid on the fact that Donny is Dan Galleone’s son?’ Gemma asked. ‘If Galleone doesn’t know already. He might have worked it out, or Natalie might have told him – despite what she’s said to us. Ange, this gives Galleone a real motive to shut Bryson Finn up for good. Galleone’s got a nice stable marriage, a nice stable home somewhere –’

  ‘Manly Vale,’ Angie interrupted.

  ‘And a holiday house on the north coast,’ Gemma continued. ‘Do you think he wants all that destabilised by finding he’s got this ex-nuptial son via the wife of his sworn worst enemy? How do you imagine Susie Galleone would react to that information? Think of the dramas!’

  She thought of something else. ‘Natalie and Galleone could have worked this together. He’d know how to do it, and either of them could have carried it out.’

  ‘Love those theories of yours,’ said Angie. ‘Pity about the lack of evidence.’ She rang off.

  •

  As soon as Gemma arrived home, she sat at her desk and pulled out a large sheet of clean white paper. The discussion with Angie had stirred up even more questions for her. With a thick black pen she started to write: Could Dan Galleone be the killer? He had motive, certainly the means and the know-how. But there was no evidence.

  Gemma left a space and wrote: Who was the woman who rang Natalie to say that her husband was having an affair? Does she exist? Almost certainly, Gemma wrote, because it makes things look worse for Natalie by giving her a strong motive. Why would she make something up that was detrimental to her case?

  Natalie had admitted writing the I think he knows letter. But who had printed the threatening You bastard B note found on Bryson Finn’s body at the crime scene?

  Gemma tapped the end of the pen against her teeth, deep in thought. Then wrote some more observations: Jaki says Bryson gave her a Venetian glass heart, but now she can’t find it – says she left it at work and it seems to have disappeared.

 

‹ Prev