Craven (9781921997365)

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Craven (9781921997365) Page 7

by Casey, Melanie


  ‘And is Monaghan still locked up?’ Dave asked.

  ‘Unfortunately, no. Don’t get me wrong, obviously I believe in trying to help people get better but I also believe that some people are beyond help. They’re the ones who are a danger to themselves and other people, and they belong in locked facilities, being treated appropriately. Monaghan was released after a couple of months, full of meds and apparently safe to return to the general population.’

  ‘Does Dr Metzger still see him?’ Dave asked.

  ‘God no! I don’t know who’s treating him now. Richard could never work with Monaghan after what happened.’

  Ed looked at his partner. He could tell Dave was buzzing as well. They had the scent of a possible lead. He turned back to Dr Young.

  ‘I think it’s really important that we talk to Dr Metzger about his work at the NA group. If you give us his contact details we can arrange something with him directly,’ Ed said.

  ‘You think the death you’re investigating is linked to the NA group in some way?’

  ‘We’re trying to work that out.’

  Dr Young frowned and looked down at his desk. Ed could hear the traffic passing on the street below and the low murmur of activity out in the waiting room. Finally the doctor sighed and picked up his pen and wrote on a small pad.

  He tore off the piece of paper and handed it to Dave.

  ‘Here’s his private number. He can decide for himself whether or not he wants to talk to you.’

  They left him to his morning patients and returned to their car, swinging past a hole-in-the-wall café and grabbing a takeaway coffee on the way.

  They sat in the car and soaked up the warmth of the winter sun.

  ‘Was it just me or did you think Dr Young is a homo too?’

  ‘Jesus, Dave, try and be PC for once in your life, would you? You can’t call him a homo.’

  ‘Why not? I won’t do it to his face.’

  ‘One of these days you’re going to upset someone.’

  ‘Well thank you, Dad. Next time I want some parenting I’ll let you know. But seriously, did you get the feeling there was more between him and Metzger than just a business partnership?’

  ‘Definitely. I also got the impression that the whole NA thing might have caused a few arguments. We need to know more about Carl Monaghan, starting with his current whereabouts. If he’s back in circulation it’d be worth paying him a visit and seeing if he knew Jenkins or any of the others.’

  ‘Metzger might be able to tell us that.’ Dave pulled out his tablet and fiddled with it.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Looking up Metzger’s address. It was nice of Dr Young to give us his number but I don’t really see the need to call first, do you? I think we’ll just drop by and see if the good doctor’s at home.’

  CHAPTER

  11

  ‘You thought the MacDonald place was flash, wait till you get a look at Metzger’s digs,’ Dave said.

  They were driving out of the city, heading north through the green belt of parklands that surrounded Adelaide.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Medinde redefines swanky. It’s full of surgeons, QCs and seriously old money.’

  ‘And psychiatrists.’

  ‘And them.’

  They pulled onto a wide tree-lined street and drove another half a kilometre before turning into a small service road that ran parallel to the main road but separated the houses from the traffic. Dave stopped in front of an imposing Victorian house with a garden that looked like the winning entry from the Chelsea Flower Show.

  ‘Wow,’ Ed said.

  ‘Good money in dealing with crazies.’

  They entered through a small gate in the hedge and walked up a gravel path. Rows of iceberg roses stood either side of the front steps, dotted with a few clusters of unseasonal blooms. Three steps led up to a wide veranda and a front door surrounded by intricate leadlight glass. The roller door was down on the large double garage attached to the house, giving no indication of whether there was a car inside.

  Ed lifted the shiny brass knocker and rapped three times, then listened to the sound disappear into the depths of the house. They waited as the chill of the day seeped through their clothes and into their flesh.

  Ed was poised to knock again when the door swung open. A tall, skeletal-looking man stood there, staring at them down an impressive Roman nose. His brow was heavy, made more so by the scowl on his face. A jagged red scar stretched from the corner of his right eye to his jawline, pulling the corner of the eye down. A shock of salt and pepper hair swept back from a dramatic widow’s peak.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We’re here to see Dr Richard Metzger,’ Ed said.

  ‘And you are?’

  They showed their IDs.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Are you Dr Metzger?’ Dave said.

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘We’re detectives with the Major Crime Investigation Branch. We’re investigating a suspicious death. We have some questions we’re hoping you can help us with. Can we come in?’ Ed said.

  ‘I don’t normally let people into my house without an appointment.’

  ‘We understand. We wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t important.’

  The doctor hesitated a few moments longer before stepping back to allow them inside.

  They followed him down a long hallway with high ornate ceilings, past an impressive gallery of what looked like original oil paintings. Progress was slow. The doctor walked with a cane, dragging his left leg. He led them into a small study off to the right.

  ‘Sit down.’ He eased himself into a leather captain’s chair.

  Ed looked around the room. Finally he found himself in a space that fitted his mental image of a psychiatrist’s office. Two of the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the large window was dressed with velvet maroon curtains complete with tassels and a heavy swag. It was a rich, warm and masculine space. A partner’s desk sat in the middle of the room. There was a large photo frame carefully placed on one corner of it. Ed craned his neck to get a quick glimpse. It was a head and shoulders shot of Young.

  ‘We’ve been to see your partner today. He suggested we speak to you,’ Ed said.

  ‘So who’s dead and why do you think I can help?’

  He pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the corner of his eye, which had started to weep. Ed noticed the slight tremor in his hand as he raised it to his face.

  ‘What makes you think someone’s dead?’

  ‘My partner rang me a little while ago and told me you might call.’

  Ed nodded at Dave to take the lead.

  ‘Can you tell us about the work you did with the Narcotics Anonymous group?’ Dave asked.

  ‘I specialise in anxiety disorders. I started volunteering with the organisation about three years ago. One of my former patients introduced me to the chapter. I go along when I can and offer my services. I run regular group therapy sessions.’

  ‘Do many people come to them?’

  ‘Quite a few.’

  ‘Does the name Paul Jenkins mean anything to you?’

  ‘Is he the victim?’

  ‘He’s deceased, yes.’

  ‘I don’t recall him, no.’

  ‘What about Sarah Jones?’

  The doctor frowned. ‘I don’t know. The name sounds familiar but I can’t be sure. She could have come to see me at the centre but didn’t follow up. A lot of the people who go along to NA only use their first names.’

  ‘So neither was a regular patient?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

  ‘What about Ben Taylor?’

  ‘Now, that name I do know. Have you found him?’

  ‘No, but we think he may be an associate of Paul Jenkins and we’re trying to work out if the NA group was the link.’

  ‘His mother told you he was attending the group?’

  ‘Yes, and that he was seein
g you,’ Dave said. ‘Can you tell us anything about what you were treating Ben for?’

  ‘I’m sorry but that would be a breach of my obligations. While there’s still uncertainty about his whereabouts I have to assume he’s alive and preserve his right to privacy.’

  ‘We understand. But can you tell us if there was anything about his psychiatric condition that could have led to his disappearance?’

  The doctor frowned. ‘I don’t think there was. He had a lot of issues but I never thought he was at risk of taking his own life or running away. How about you leave me your details and I’ll review his file tonight. If there’s anything I think is relevant to your investigation I’ll let you know.’

  ‘We’d appreciate that.’ Dave paused and looked across at Ed who took the cue.

  ‘There’s one other thing we’d like to ask you. It’s about the patient who attacked you,’ Ed said.

  ‘I prefer not to talk about that.’ He sat up straighter in his chair. He dabbed at his eye again, the tremor in his hand more pronounced.

  ‘We understand. Carl Monaghan was a patient from the NA group?’

  ‘Yes, he was.’

  ‘And did he know Ben Taylor?’

  The doctor frowned. ‘Perhaps. They attended the same NA meeting at around the same time. Why?’

  ‘We’re just looking for possible connections.’

  ‘Do you think Monaghan might be involved in Taylor’s disappearance?’

  ‘No, we’re really just exploring whether the NA group is the link between Taylor and our victim. We only heard about Monaghan today when we spoke to your partner. Have you heard from him since he was let out?’

  ‘No, he’s not permitted to have any contact with me. It was one of the conditions of his release.’

  Ed decided not to press any further with questions about Carl Monaghan. The mention of his name had sent Dr Metzger into a frenzy of ticks and nervous dabbing at his eye.

  The doctor smoothed back his hair with a shaking hand. ‘You described the death you’re investigating as suspicious. I assume that means you don’t know if it was murder or not?’

  ‘No, we can’t be certain. We have two deaths and a disappearance that could be suspicious. We’re exploring whether there’s a connection between the victims and trying to work out if the NA angle ties them all together.’

  ‘I see. Even if two or more of them attended the group it could be coincidence.’

  ‘It could, but the common thread seems to be drugs.’

  ‘It’s amazingly common these days.’ Dr Metzger looked at his watch.

  ‘We appreciate your time,’ Ed said standing up.

  The doctor rose awkwardly from his chair, dropping his cane. Ed stepped over and picked it up for him.

  ‘Thank you. William Smythe is the leader out at Alberton now. I suggest you talk to him. He should be able to tell you if other people on your list were participants or not. Good luck, detectives.’

  Ed and Dave stepped off Dr Metzger’s porch into a mist of drizzle. It covered the garden in a hazy curtain that muted the colour of the plants and made everything look out of focus.

  They hurried back along the path, their footsteps crunching on the gravel. The air was heavy with the smell of rain, wet earth and mouldering leaves. They clambered back inside their car, glad to be out of the damp. The musty odour of coffee and takeaway food settled over them like a stale blanket.

  ‘I think we just met Dr Frankenstein,’ Dave said. ‘Did you see that scar on his face?’

  ‘Dr Frankenstein wasn’t deformed, it was …’

  Ed was stopped by Dave’s dramatic eye roll. He sighed. What was the point? Dave was happy in his ignorance. It was an exercise in futility trying to part the curtains to his intellect and give the guy a bit of culture. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Ed. Finding himself in a relationship where he was the cultured one? Who would have guessed? His old partner Phil would have found it hysterical.

  ‘The good doctor’s a mess. Did you see the tremor in his hand when we started to talk about Carl Monaghan?’ Dave said.

  ‘Yeah, it confirms what Dr Young said.’

  ‘I thought you would have asked a few more questions about Monaghan? It would have been good to know a bit more about him.’

  ‘I didn’t want the doctor to flip out. If he thought we were interested in Monaghan he might put two and two together and get six.’

  ‘He might be right if he did.’

  ‘It’s a possibility. We need to find out Monaghan’s current whereabouts. At a minimum he might be able to shed some light on whether the names on the list all attended the NA meeting.’ Ed wound the window down a crack, seeking fresh air.

  ‘I’m hoping there’s a bit more to it than that.’

  ‘You like him as a suspect?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’d be good to know what set him off.’

  ‘He might just be a violent psychopath.’

  ‘If he is and he’s back in circulation then that bumps him way up on our list of suspects.’

  ‘Assuming we can establish that he even knew Jenkins or any of the others.’

  ‘Assuming that. It’s all ifs and buts at the moment. Let’s get back to the office and see what we can find out about him.’

  What they found was a trail so cold it was arctic. Carl Monaghan had completely dropped off the radar. His file detailed the conditions of his release, his regular appointments with his psychiatrist and when he’d stopped going. Uniform had looked for him and kept an eye on his last known address but he’d gone to ground. There’d been no record of him for over six months.

  Ed thumped his desk and leant back in his chair.

  ‘I had a good feeling about him.’

  ‘So what’s next?’ Even Dave’s usually cool veneer was showing signs of strain. A lock of hair was hanging down over his forehead and his tie was crooked; that amounted to serious dishevelment in his world.

  ‘We have to find someone who can talk to us about the NA meetings,’ Ed said.

  ‘The leader?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Metzger told us his name.’

  ‘Hang on a sec, I wrote it down.’ Dave pulled his notebook out of his pocket. ‘William Smythe. I say we try him. It’d be good if the meeting was the link between the vics. At least then we’d have somewhere to start looking for a suspect.’

  ‘Then all we’d have to do is prove that MacDonald was murdered and Taylor is dead and that the same person was responsible,’ Ed said. ‘Easy!’

  ‘Yeah, real easy. I’ll keep a look out for Santa Claus while we’re hoping for miracles,’ Dave said.

  Ed couldn’t help smiling. Dave was good comic relief if nothing else. ‘Maybe we should start by trying to find the last person on Jenkins’ list first? What was her name?’

  ‘Sarah Jones. I reckon Santa might be easier. There’s gotta be a squillion Sarah Joneses out there.’

  CHAPTER

  12

  By the time all the students had dawdled out of the room after my last tutorial on Friday afternoon I was completely shattered. I was beginning to wonder whether I was cut out to be a teacher at all.

  Claire hadn’t been kidding when she’d told me about my sudden meteoric rise in popularity. All my tutorials were full. I’d turned up to every class to find a ring of eager faces studying me intently.

  Without fail, one or more had asked questions about my gift during every tutorial. A couple of the more determined souls stayed behind after class to pump me for information. One had even tried to interview me for the campus paper but I’d stuck to my guns and refused to talk to any of them.

  I picked up my bag and shuffled out into the corridor. It was only 3.15pm but it felt much later. I’d been struggling to sleep all week. The vandalism to my car had rattled me more than I cared to admit.

  I’d dutifully reported it to campus security and had been surprised at how seriously they’d taken it. Dan, the guard I’d spoken to, had swung into
action with startling speed. Thoughts of Dan and my conversation with him gave me a buzz of excitement.

  He was a giant of a man: six foot three and solid. He looked like he worked out and he was pretty easy on the eyes as well; curly brown hair and bright blue eyes added to his overall appeal. I was surprised Claire hadn’t told me about him. I thought it was part of her mission to know where all the good-looking men were hiding out.

  As I’d talked to him I kept forgetting what I was going to say. His sheer physical bulk seemed to fill the small space of the office. He was probably used to people losing their thread of thought because he listened patiently while I laboured through my tale of woe.

  ‘OK, Miss Lehman …’

  ‘Please, call me Cass.’ I found myself smiling like a halfwit.

  ‘OK, Cass.’ He smiled back at me, showing crooked teeth but an impressive set of dimples that made him look cheeky and sexy all at once. ‘I think we’d better err on the side of caution. I’ll organise extra patrols each evening to keep an eye on the car parks. I’d also like you to give me a copy of your schedule so I can arrange for someone to meet you and escort you to your car when you stay late.’

  ‘Do you think that’s really necessary?’ I decided that seeing a lot more of him would definitely be necessary.

  ‘Hopefully not. I’ll check with the others to see if there’s been anything else like this. I’m keen to see the photos once your detective friend sends them through. Either way, I’ll be a lot happier knowing you’re safely on your way home each evening. I also want to know if anything else happens, no matter how silly you think it is or how insignificant. If anyone bothers you in any way you come straight here.’

  ‘Well, thanks Dan, that’s really nice of you. I’ll print a copy of my schedule and drop it in later. I can’t remember it off the top of my head yet.’ I smiled at him and caught myself before I batted my eyelashes and flicked my hair. The guy made me behave like a teenager.

  That had been yesterday.

  I looked at my watch. It was 3.20pm. I’d been planning on staying late to prepare for the following week but I was too tired. I’d take it home with me. Since I was leaving early I’d need to let the security guards know. I could ring, but their office was on the way to my car. I felt a flutter in my stomach. Would Dan be there again? Did he work the same hours every day? If he was, maybe I should give him my phone number … he might even want a drink after work.

 

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