‘With respect, Mrs Mallick, you won’t find the truth via online forums. It’s mainly wild theories with no foundation.’
‘No smoke without fire,’ she said, turning to go back into the kitchen. ‘And if there’s no foundation, how come he got killed, huh?’ She disappeared behind a wall before Jack could answer her question.
‘Did he get many visitors? Delicious coffee, by the way.’ If he played his cards right, he’d get a second cup. ‘Groups of men, for example?’
Mallick beamed, the skin crinkling around his large eyes. ‘Thank you, Detective Lisbon. Yes, He did. Sometimes he had friends over to play pool and the music and conversations got a bit loud, but nothing over the top. Perhaps he’d had run-ins with the authorities before.’
‘Why would you think that?’ said Taylor.
‘Because he never went past 12 o’clock with the carousing. Like clockwork, the music would stop almost on the stroke of midnight and his mates would go home quietly.’
‘A very thoughtful neighbour indeed,’ Jack remarked.
‘Yes, yes. No trouble at all.’ Mallick’s imitation handwashing was relentless. ‘Do you have any idea who did it?’
‘We’ll ask the questions if you don’t mind.’ Best to cut the curious types off quickly.
‘Oh, yes, of course. A thousand apologies.’
‘Were there any other visitors?’
‘Yes. Men in suits. Probably to do with his business dealings. But of course,’ he held out his hands, palms upwards, ‘we don’t sit here spying on our neighbours’ houses, so anything’s possible.’
‘Was he away from home a lot?’ asked Taylor.
‘The house was dark some nights, but he was never away for more than one day at a time. I understand he often travelled to Cairns. At least that’s what my wife tells me. She’s always got her nose in the gossip pages. She told me there were rumours going around Yorkville that he was, like Miranda said…’ Mallick made exaggerated air quotes … ‘dodgy, but he was respectful of us in the street. His dog was very well behaved, not a barker. That’s why I knew something was wrong this morning when she was howling. I’ve never heard her go off like that.’
‘What do you know about his family?’ Jack already knew the basics from a data base search Taylor requested on the drive back from Cairns. The ex-wife Lydia, separated but not officially divorced, a mother and brother, no children. Two registered businesses, one for the pool halls, the other a shelf company.
‘Not very much.’ Mallick turned his head to the side. ‘Miranda! Come here for a minute please, love.’
Mrs Mallick reappeared, a broad smile on her face, like she couldn’t wait to put in her two cents worth. She flopped into a fabric rose-patterned armchair, placed her hands in her lap. Over the next five minutes, she detailed her extensive knowledge of Cameron Snyder and his shady business dealings. Internet rumours the detectives were already familiar with.
‘What about his personal life?’ said Jack.
‘Oh, yes. He has a wife. Lydia, her name is. Lovely lady, a bit timid. I’ve spoken to her maybe ten times. They’re separated, not divorced. She would drop by some weekends, stay for a few hours, then drive off again. Last time I saw her was last Saturday when I was working in the front garden. She’d just come out of the house with a big smile on her face. I cut a bunch of azaleas and took them over to her as she was getting into her car. She told me she’d dropped by to deliver a letter to Mr Snyder.’
‘I wonder why she wouldn’t simply re-address it?’ Taylor ventured out loud.
‘Just between us,’ whispered Miranda. ‘I got the impression she still carried a torch for him.’
‘You’re just speculating,’ interrupted Mr Mallick. ‘Keep to the facts.’
‘Your wife’s doing fine,’ said Taylor. ‘She’s not under oath in court. Mrs Mallick, did Lydia live here before she and her husband separated?’
‘No. She never lived in this street. Mr Snyder bought it after they separated. She’s got the apartment across town in Thurston.’
‘She must be very forgiving if she still loved him,’ said Jack. ‘Thurston’s a shithole – pardon my French. At least compared to Mortimer.’
‘And that’s why I say Mr Snyder, rest his soul, was a dodgy character.’ Mrs Mallick raised her chin. ‘He came from that lower-class suburb straight to this lovely area. Apparently, his rise to riches was swift, but it’s rumoured he’s up to his eyeballs’… she bulged out her eyes… ‘in debt.’
‘Anything else you can tell us?’
‘Afraid not.’
Jack realised with the conversation over, there would be no second coffee. ‘OK, DC Taylor. It’s getting on. Let’s leave these good people in peace. We’ll be in touch if we need to ask any more questions.’
Cutting across the Mallicks’ well-groomed couch lawn to the next set of neighbours Taylor said, ‘What did you make of that?’
‘Most of it regurgitated gossip, but that stuff about the ex-missus coming for visits, gold.’
‘I agree. I’ll bet when Proctor analyses that condom she’s gonna finds traces of Lydia’s…um…’
Jack burst out laughing. ‘You’re probably right.’
‘And the men in suits. Who could they be?’
‘I plan on finding out before the weekend.’
Taylor gave a reassuring smile. ‘They’re probably a side issue, Jack. You and I know most murders are committed by people close to the victim.’
‘I hope you’re right, Claudia. It would certainly simplify things. The case already has too many variables, and I don’t like it one bit.’
Chapter 8
Renee van der Klopp welcomed the detectives with frantic eagerness, waving them inside like she was directing traffic. ‘Come in, come in, please. Oh, it’s terrible, shocking. The ambulance, the people in those white suits. It’s not good news, is it?’
Jack’s lips pressed together as he gave a solemn shake of the head.
‘My husband’s in the lounge room waiting. Are you going to tell us what happened?’
‘Of course,’ said Taylor, wiping her feet on a coir mat. ‘We’ll tell you everything, don’t worry.’
‘Was he…murdered?’
‘Yes,’ said Jack. No point pussy-footing around with jittery people like her. ‘And we need your help.’
The home owner stopped and turned around. Two stray tears wandered down her pink cheek, her lower lip trembled. ‘Oh dear. Poor Cam.’
‘Cam?’ That was the first time anyone had abbreviated the man’s name. ‘You knew him quite well I take it?’
‘No…no…not really.’ She grabbed Jack by the elbow, steered him down a short hallway which opened into a spacious loungeroom, Taylor following on their heels. ‘I’ll get us a drink. Be back in a mo.’
The detectives held out their IDs, introduced themselves to Rex van der Klopp. ‘Take a seat,’ he replied in a barely audible grunt before fixating on the screen of his mobile phone.
‘Excuse me, hello!’ Jack flapped his hands about. ‘We’re here on important business. Can I have your attention please?’
‘I’m texting me mum.’ A dry sniff and a face wipe with the back of a hairy wrist. ‘Just wait a minute, will ya?’
Jack silently cursed numb-nuts like Rex while he quietly assessed the surroundings. Open-plan layout, slow-turning fans, ultra-modern appliances. Floor tiles instead of carpet in the reception rooms. It all made sense to Jack. If he were to build a home in Yorkville, he wouldn’t mind something like the functional ones dotting the end of Rogers Close.
Renee appeared with a tray. A jug of iced-water with lemon slices floating in it, four plastic tumblers. A letdown after the supreme coffee at the Mallicks’.
The van der Klopps presented as an ordinary working-class suburban couple in their mid-thirties to early forties. Hard to guess occupation, but judging by appearances alone, Jack could imagine Rex sorting screws all day on an assembly line, Renee waiting tables at a café. More likely they had good jobs, though
, considering the price tags of homes in Mortimer. Taciturn Rex tended to overweight, a hairy muffin top peeking out from between a Yorkville Scorpions tank top and draw-string shorts. Raven haired and tanned, Renee was on the short side, perhaps five-four in her socks. She was plain featured in Jack’s estimation, but he was picking up an underlying sexual vibe. Not directed at him, but hanging like a ripe apple, waiting to be plucked. Only not by her husband. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly, her generous chest rose and fell inside a ruffled floral blouse. Blips and beeps of computer games and snatches of teenagers’ boisterous chatter filtered down the corridor. Jack spied a framed photo of two identical spotty-faced lads in blue-and-grey school uniforms on a side table.
The hosts sat on extreme ends of a three-setter corduroy sofa, torsos twisted away from each other. The detectives were left the matching two-seater couch opposite. Body language told Jack this couple had long ago exited the honeymoon stage. He sensed they couldn’t stand each other.
Taylor took the lead, quickly explained that their neighbour had been killed yesterday evening between 10 and 12 o’clock.
‘Oh my God!’ said Renee. ‘We were at home. The boys…Christ!’
‘Don’t stress, Mrs van der Klopp. We’re certain the perpetrator was someone known to the victim.’
‘How did he die?’ said Rex, putting his phone on the armrest of the sofa. His voice and entire attitude were calm. Jack detected a touch of sadistic curiosity in the question.
‘I’d rather not go into those details,’ said Jack.
‘Why not?’ A furrowed frown from Rex. ‘We’re entitled to know. The bloke’s our friggin’ neighbour, for God’s sake.’
Taylor coughed into her fist. ‘That kind of information needs to be kept confidential for legal reasons.’
‘Whatever. It’ll all be in the papers soon enough. Or when that goofy Batista holds the inevitable press conference.’ Arms weaved into a tight fold across the man’s chest.
Jack had been monitoring Renee as she observed the exchange between her husband and the police with a disapproving eye and tiny head shakes. He’d string them along for a moment before lobbing in the hand grenade Mrs van der Klopp had herself supplied.
‘How was your relationship with Mr Snyder?’ Jack asked Rex.
‘I said g’day to him, that’s about it.’ The arms across the chest tightened. ‘He wasn’t much bothered about engaging in conversation. Too up himself to ask me or the kids over for a game of pool. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if all the Internet rumours about his dishonesty were on the money.’
‘And what about you, Mrs van der Klopp?’ Let’s see if they’re team players.
‘I’m the same as my husband. Just knew him to say hello to. He kept to himself, like we all do in the street. It’s a sign of the world we live in, isn’t it? Everyone too busy to take the time out to, you know, socialise and that. As for his business, I wouldn’t know anything about it.’ She gave a nervous titter.
‘You called him Cam when we arrived,’ said Jack in the flattest tone he could muster. The DS may have been addressing the wife, but his focus was on the husband. ‘Rather familiar for someone you only know well enough to say hello to, innit?’
‘I…ah… do that with people’s names,’ she replied. ‘It’s something I’ve always done.’
‘No you haven’t.’ Rex released his self-administered bear hug and sucked in a deep breath. Jack guessed he was trying to control a mean temper.
‘I have, too!’ She spun in her seat, as if someone had poked her in the side with a hot iron.
‘Bullshit.’ The husband glowered, pointed an index finger at his spouse. ‘You’ve got nephews with great fucking long names. Sebastian and that other little shit, what’s his name, Bartholomew. You never shorten them.’
‘Only because my brother insists on the full names being used.’ The claim sounded forced in Jack’s ears. ‘He’s a snob like that.’
‘Rubbish,’ said Rex. ‘I’ve heard him talking to his kids. He calls ‘em Seb and Bart.’
‘No he doesn’t! Maybe I got things confused. Must be my sister-in-law Karen who insists on the full names.’ The defensiveness in Renee’s voice was palpable. ‘You’re just doing all you can to make me look bad.’
Jack cast a side-eye at Taylor. Her frown fighting against a wry smile suggested she was enjoying the train-wreck spectacle and feeling bad for their hosts at the same time.
‘No, I’m not,’ Rex insisted. ‘Anyway, why do you use the full names when you’re talking to me and your dumb-arse brother and his wife aren’t even in the same bloody room? Puts the lie to your words.’
Tears welled in Renee’s eyes. Her rib cage rose as she turned to her husband and glared. ‘This is all irrelevant to the officers’ questions. So just shut up, will you Rex!’
The sexual vibe Jack sensed emanating from Renee earlier had evaporated, replaced by desperation.
‘Listen.’ Rex readopted the crossed-arms pose, the pitch of his voice low and controlled now. ‘I know you were fooling with him next door. Why not admit it finally? The bloke’s dead. It’s the decent thing for you to do.’
‘Were you having an affair with the deceased?’ Jack asked Renee, again with minimum expression in his voice. ‘If you were, it might be enough of a motive for…’ he switched his gaze to the husband ‘…you to murder the man.’
Rex van der Klopp morphed from lazy couch potato to man of action. He leapt to his feet, eyes wide and jaw set firm. ‘What the hell?’ His arms windmilled about. ‘You two come barging in here late at night, accusing me of killing my neighbour. Jesus Christ! I’ve heard about the lack of professionalism in the Yorkville Police, now I’m experiencing it for myself.’
‘Oi!’ Jack stood, extended his arms with the palms of his hands pointing to the floor. Time to regain dominance. ‘Settle down, Mr van der Klopp. I ain’t making no accusations. Just tossing theories about, like.’
‘If you keep on like that, I’ll be tossing you out the fucking door! What if the kids hear all this nonsense? I’ll be suing you for harassment.’
‘Hey, hey, hey,’ said Taylor. ‘Let’s all calm down. Jack, apologise.’
‘Wot?’
‘I said apologise. Mr van der Klopp is right. You’ve stirred up some kind of hornet’s nest here with no foundation.’
‘Damn straight,’ said Rex, brandishing his mobile phone like a gun as he resumed his seat on the end of the sofa. He glanced over his shoulder towards the hallway, dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘If she was banging the bloke next door, which I’m sure she was, it wouldn’t make me go over there and kill him.’
‘But I wasn’t, babe,’ Renee pleaded with her eyes. Believe me! Jack noticed the unhappily married couple had jammed themselves even harder against their armrests at either end of the settee. The man shook his head before staring into space.
‘OK,’ said Jack. ‘I’m sorry. But you have to understand, Mr and Mrs van der Klopp, we’re talking about a brutal murder. You’re unaware of this, but Cameron Snyder was a person of immense interest to Australia’s security agencies. I’m under orders. We need to solve this crime, and we need to solve it fast.’ He quickly popped two pellets of spearmint gum into his mouth before continuing. The blast of extra hot mint helped to clear his head. ‘From where I sit, and please, I’m not making any accusations here, you, Rex, are the closest thing to a suspect we’ve got. Depending on the results of our scientific tests and other investigations, we may require your further cooperation. To quote the classic line, don’t leave town.’
‘As if I would! I’ve done nothing.’ He flopped back into the couch, the weight of exhaustion dragging his eyelids down.
‘And neither have I.’ Renee’s turn to bust out an angry arm fold across the chest.
Remembering the science lesson from Proctor, Jack couldn’t resist. ‘Let’s see about that. We’ve got cutting edge forensics that can tell us everything, Mrs van der Klopp.’
‘What are you talkin
g about?’ she said in a faint croak. She folded her hands together but the shaking fingers couldn’t be concealed.
‘We found a used condom over there. Modern methods can tell us who was shagging who, not just whose sperm is in the receptacle.’
Taylor buried her head in her hands. Jack smiled to himself. She couldn’t handle the directness sometimes, but tough shit. Often it was the only way to get to the truth.
‘You don’t look so sure of yourself now, do you, babe?’ said Rex. ‘I can’t wait to find out what the results are. If my suspicions are correct, you’ll be packing your bags. Maybe you can move in with your brother and look after those little nephews of yours. The ones with the cute, short names.’ He barked a sarcastic laugh.
‘We’re going to need DNA samples from both of you to run some tests.’ Jack tapped the edge of his mobile against his thigh.
‘Her, I understand.’ Rex jerked a thumb at his wife. ‘But why me?’
‘Like I said, you’re the closest thing we have to a suspect at this early stage.’
‘What if we don’t agree?’ Renee’s face was drained of colour.
‘We can get a court order, not a problem,’ said Taylor firmly. ‘Why wouldn’t you agree if you’ve got nothing to hide? If your DNA doesn’t match, it’ll go a long way towards eliminating you as suspects.’
‘I don’t want my name on record forever. It’s an infringement of my civil liberties,’ Renee pouted.
‘Let me reassure you, if you aren’t charged with anything we’re obliged to destroy forensic samples after twelve months,’ said Taylor
‘So you say.’ Renee took a long drink of water. ‘How can I believe you?’
‘It’s the law, Mrs van der Klopp,’ said Jack. ‘And these things are closely monitored.’
‘I’ll only do it if he does,’ said Renee, drilling a hole in Rex with her eyes.
‘Bring it,’ he challenged. ‘I’m ready.’
No one spoke for a moment before Jack broke the silence. ‘I’d like to see both of you at the station tomorrow to have swabs taken. Purely voluntary of course, but it’s in your best interests.’ He flicked his wrist to check the time. 9:45pm. ‘It’s getting late and we must press on. One last thing. Have either of you noticed any suspicious activity in the street recently?’
Trick Shot: an absolutely gripping mystery and suspense thriller (The Fighting Detective Book 3) Page 6