Craven (9781921997365)

by Casey, Melanie

  ‘Nah, I don’t think it was her. She didn’t seem bothered by us turning up on her doorstep, just weary from it all. Besides, Cass said she heard a male voice talking to Taylor. I’m just saying, Smythe wasn’t the only person we spoke to about Taylor.’

  ‘True, and I suppose he could have been talking to other people associated with NA about our visit too. He’d have to be pretty dumb to dump Taylor’s body just after we’d talked to him,’ Dave said.

  Ed glanced around the busy café. The tables closest to them were occupied by groups and couples who were much more interested in their own conversation than what two blokes in suits might be saying. At least in the big smoke you didn’t bump into people you knew everywhere you went. He turned back to Dave.

  ‘There’s also Monaghan to think about. He could be our man. The problem I’ve got is that we’ve still got no proof that anyone other than Taylor was murdered, and we’re only assuming he was until the autopsy results come in. Plus, we still don’t know for sure that Jenkins, Jones or MacDonald actually went to NA. They are way too many loose ends for my liking.’

  ‘Loose ends or not, I think it’s pretty safe to assume Taylor was murdered. Are you telling me you don’t believe what Cass told you? And who’s gonna go to the trouble of burying a body in an open grave like that if it was an accident?’ Dave said.

  ‘Forget Cass for a minute. Taylor’s death could have been an accident. Maybe he OD’d and whoever he was with freaked out.’

  ‘Freaked out enough to keep the body on ice for a year? Not bloody likely. We both know it wasn’t an accident. I believe what Cass says. We need to talk to the other people who go along to the Tuesday meeting or the leader who took the meeting before the new guy. If Jenkins, Jones or MacDonald were going, someone has to have seen them. We need to make that connection. You’re right about Monaghan too. We’ve got to track him down. At the very least he can tell us whether he knew any of the others.’

  ‘If I was a betting man I’d say we’ve got a better chance of at least getting to see the former leader. I wonder how much damage the drugs did?’ Ed said.

  ‘Hard to say. Hampstead specialises in rehabilitation, so maybe we’ll get lucky.’

  ‘Hopefully he’s lucid.’

  They lapsed into a short silence, each contemplating the raft of possibilities. Ed took another mouthful of coffee, trying hard not to screw up his face as he swallowed it. ‘What about Young and Metzger?’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘We talked to them about Taylor too. You think one of them’s bumping off junkies?’ Dave’s brow furrowed at the idea.

  ‘It’s possible,’ Ed said.

  ‘Yeah, I guess. Young had a thing about the NA group. Metzger? He seems like he’s more interested in helping them than killing them. I can’t believe he’s still working with the NA group after what happened with Monaghan.’

  ‘Some people put the needs of others before their own,’ Ed said. He couldn’t help wondering if Dave could comprehend the concept of self-sacrifice and philanthropy.

  ‘He’s crazier than his patients if you ask me.’

  ‘He’s also a mess. Pretty hard to juggle a walking stick and move bodies around at the same time,’ Ed said.

  ‘Young’s definitely fit enough to hurl someone off a balcony. If he and Metzger were lovers Metzger might have talked to him about his patients. Maybe it’s revenge for what happened to his lover?’

  Ed snorted. ‘That’s nuts.’

  ‘This whole case is nuts but I’ll get Janice to follow up with Young, do some checks to see where he was when Jenkins bit the asphalt.’

  ‘What about the other name on the list, Sarah Jones? We’ve got three out of the four names dead now. We need to find her,’ Ed said.

  ‘Yeah – what’d you think I was doing first thing this morning while you were babysitting Cass? Me and Janice went through every Sarah Jones on record again. None of them was our girl. Whoever she is, she’s dropped off the airwaves.’

  ‘Shit, is she missing or dead?’

  ‘Who knows? No one has reported her missing. Maybe homeless?’ Dave said.

  ‘A drug habit can do that.’

  ‘Yeah, assuming she has one.’

  ‘So it’s a dead end?’ Ed said.

  ‘Bad choice of words, but yeah.’

  ‘I reckon we try the guy in Hampstead and then if that doesn’t get us anywhere we go back to looking for Sarah Jones and Carl Monaghan.’

  ‘Sounds good, let’s get cracking. You can stop pretending to drink your coffee. Jimmy’s off his game today, it tastes like shit.’

  ‘Thank God, I thought it was just me.’

  Ten minutes later Ed found himself wondering about the wearer of the potent perfume that still lingered in Dave’s car. It was anything but subtle. It screamed man-eater and even the residue was enough to give Ed a mild headache.

  ‘Who’s the new girl?’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘I can smell her.’

  ‘Anna. I bought her some perfume. You like it? It’s an oriental, very sexy.’

  ‘The girl or the perfume?’

  ‘The perfume, you idiot. She’s German.’

  ‘Let me guess, six foot, blonde, blue eyes, twenty-two.’

  ‘Twenty-four, actually.’

  ‘She’s almost ready to be put out to pasture by your standards.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, take the piss all you want but you should try it some time. Young women are much less complicated. They’re only interested in a good time, not marriage and babies. The girls I date are nowhere near as fucking complicated as your last effort. Jesus, a psychic who relives people’s deaths? How fucked up is that? I hope you’re not planning on going back because I can tell you now, she’ll make you pay, big time.’

  ‘Cass isn’t like that.’

  ‘They’re all like that. You were the one she called when her car was trashed.’

  ‘Only because I’m a cop.’ Ed had told Dave about the vandalism on their Sunday night dash into the Royal Adelaide Hospital. He was wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

  ‘If that was the reason she would’ve called Emergency.’

  Ed mulled that over. He couldn’t believe he’d told Cass he loved her. It wasn’t the same as what he’d felt for Susan, but who said you had to love every person the same way? What he felt for Cass was more of a slow burn rather than the intense inferno that Susan had ignited the minute he met her. The more he saw Cass, the more she affected him. She was like a contagion that was slowly taking over his body; eventually she would consume him entirely.

  ‘Shit, you are going back to her, aren’t you?’

  ‘None of your fucking business.’

  ‘Shit.’

  They drove in silence. Ed was getting used to the Adelaide suburbs, enough to know they were heading north. They drove past car yards and fast food outlets; small shops of every description were dotted in between the larger lots of machinery and trucks. The few bits of token greenery that had been planted by well-meaning councils were swallowed by the tide of retail and industry. He stared at the passing landscape without seeing much of it.

  ‘So, will she help us?’ Dave said, shattering the peace.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Will psychic-woman help us with the case? She’s done it before.’

  ‘Maybe, but she could only help with Jenkins. It’s not like we can throw her in the ocean and hope she finds the spot where MacDonald died.’

  ‘No … I guess not …’

  ‘But?’

  ‘We could exhume the body.’

  Ed turned his head and stared at his partner. ‘You’ve got to be fucking joking, right? I mean, it’s one thing to touch a fresh body, but a rotting one? No way. I would never ask it of her.’

  ‘Just a thought.’

  ‘You can keep that thought to yourself.’

  Ed clenched and unclenched his fists, making his knuckles pop.

  Dave shot him a look out of the corner o
f his eye. ‘OK, OK, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I won’t mention it again.’

  Ten minutes later they pulled into the entrance to Hampstead Rehabilitation Centre. Ed studied the cluster of buildings. An old, redbrick building at the front had been joined by a collection of more modern additions. An expansive car park sprawled around the buildings. They found a sign and wound through the car park towards the administration building.

  Ed walked up to the young man sitting behind the information desk. He had a thatch of pitch-black hair and piercings that created a large hole in each earlobe; tattoos peeked out from beneath his shirt collar and cuffs. His name tag read Ty. Ed wondered if he’d regret his choice of body art in twenty years, then felt old for having the thought.

  ‘Can you tell us which room Rod Strauss is in?’ Ed said.

  The guy smiled, showing a full set of perfect teeth that had probably cost his parents a fortune.

  ‘Give me a moment.’ He attacked his keyboard with lightning strokes. ‘Ward 2B. Have you visited there before?’

  ‘No,’ Ed said, reluctant to announce who they were and make it official.

  ‘Then you’ll need to check in at the nurses’ station. They’ll tell you if you’re allowed to visit him or not.’

  They made their way back into the cool winter sunshine. Hospitals always depressed Ed on nice days. He couldn’t help thinking of the people inside who weren’t getting to enjoy the blue skies and fresh air.

  It wasn’t long before they were standing at the nurses’ station for Ward 2B and ringing the bell. There were no nurses in sight. Dave started to twitch with impatience.

  ‘Gee, you wouldn’t want to be in a hurry in this place,’ he said.

  ‘I guess their priority is the patients not the visitors.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He stood tapping the toe of his highly polished black Italian leather shoes.

  ‘Relax, there’s no fire.’

  ‘Just a mounting pile of dead bodies.’

  A nurse finally appeared down the corridor, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

  ‘Can I help you?’ She was probably about thirty, petite with short brown hair and a boyish figure.

  ‘Rod Strauss. Is it all right if we visit him?’ Ed said.

  ‘You’re not family.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Friends?’

  ‘Police.’ Ed finally gave in and flicked open his wallet ID.

  She raised her eyes from his badge and frowned at him. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything Dave stepped forward and stretched out his hand. His eyes scanned her name badge.

  ‘Forgive my partner’s lack of manners, Rachael. I’m Detective Dave Reynolds and this is Detective Ed Dyson. We’re working on a case we think Rod might be able to help us with. We were hoping to have an informal chat with him to work out if he knows anything useful; nothing too gruelling or official.’ He smiled and gave her a look that Ed was beginning to realise was his Prince Charming impersonation.

  She returned Dave’s smile, dimples transforming her face from ordinary into something much more attractive. Ed sighed. What did women see in Dave? He was going to have to take some charm lessons from him.

  ‘Well, Detective Reynolds …’

  ‘Call me Dave.’

  ‘… Dave, I’d really like to help you but I’m afraid I can’t.’

  ‘Not even for a few moments?’ Dave wheedled.

  ‘It’s the nature of his condition.’

  ‘How long will it be until he’s well enough to talk to us?’

  ‘It’s more serious than that. He’s on life support and there’s no apparent brain activity.’

  CHAPTER

  24

  ‘Cass? Cass! Wake up, sweetheart. There’s someone here to see you.’

  I blinked blearily at Mum, not sure where I was. I’d opened my eyes expecting to see my room back in Jewel Bay. Ever since Mum had come to get me from Ed’s on Monday I’d been sleeping an average of fifteen hours a day. I’d turned into a cat.

  ‘Is it Ed?’ I muttered.

  ‘No, dear. It’s Claire.’

  I sat up and ran a hand over my hair. It felt awful. I had naturally wavy hair and lots of it. It looked all right when I put in serious time taming it with a straightener but when I neglected it like I had for the last few days it was another matter. I’d be looking like a cross between a yeti and Cousin It.

  ‘Send her in.’

  She must have been hovering in the corridor listening because she burst in before Mum could even step back out of the room, her arms full of the biggest bunch of gerberas I’d ever seen.

  ‘Oh my God, Cass, you gave me such a fright! Talk about a bad run! I can’t believe what happened. It’s terrible!’ She flapped into the room and deposited the flowers on top of the quilt. Bending down, she pressed her cheek against mine in an air-kiss.

  ‘Would either of you like some tea?’ Mum said.

  ‘I’d love a coffee if you have any?’ Claire said.

  ‘I’ll have a tea thanks, Mum.’

  Claire perched on the edge of the bed. As she sat down a furry shape unfurled itself from the other side and stretched luxuriously before moseying over to Claire to say hello.

  ‘Who’s this?’ She laughed, tickling the neat grey tabby under his chin.

  ‘That’s Elliot. He’s not mine, he’s been visiting while I’ve been sick. He belongs to one of my neighbours, Miss Emily. She’s the matriarch of the apartment block. She looks out for everyone. Elliot’s her best friend.’

  ‘He looks like he’s made himself at home.’

  ‘He’s a bit of a smooch.’ I scooped the cat into my arms and gave him a kiss. He purred back at me before wriggling free and jumping down off the bed. I knew where he was going. He’d heard Mum rattling crockery in the kitchen.

  I sat back against my pillows and studied Claire. As usual she made me feel like a lesser mortal. Her hair was a glossy cascade, her makeup perfect, her jeans and blue blouse perfectly tailored to show off her figure to its best advantage without looking cheap. How did she do it?

  ‘Are you OK?’ she said, giving me the once-over.

  ‘My head’s a bit sore but I’m OK.’

  ‘Do you think it was the same guy that attacked your car?’

  ‘It’s gotta be. You should have seen what he did to my room.’

  She glanced around. ‘It looks fine now.’

  ‘Ed had some professional cleaners come in.’

  ‘Wow.’ Her stare intensified. I could see she was dying to ask me about him so I bit the bullet.

  ‘He got me out of the hospital. Apparently he had my name flagged on the system so he was called when they logged my assault.’

  ‘Did you need rescuing?’

  ‘I did. Hospitals are pretty bad places for me.’

  ‘They are?’ She frowned. ‘Oh shit! I guess they would be. Did you have lots of visions?’

  ‘A few.’

  ‘No wonder you look like shit.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Sorry, you know what I mean.’

  Mum came back into the room and deposited a tray with tea, coffee and a plate of biscuits on my bedside table.

  ‘Miss Emily dropped those off for you while you were asleep. They’re almost as good as Gran’s. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.’

  Claire waited until Mum was out of the room before continuing in a dramatic whisper, ‘Tell me, what’s going on with you and Ed?’

  ‘Nothing.’ I dropped my eyes and stared at the pattern on the quilt. As much as I liked Claire I wasn’t ready to tell her about what had happened between me and Ed. I wanted to hold it closely for a little bit longer and enjoy it before I exposed it to anyone’s thoughts or opinions about whether or not it should have happened.

  ‘Not even you believe that! He’s come to your rescue twice in the last week – that’s not nothing.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘He obviously cares for you.’

 
‘Maybe.’

  ‘And you can’t look at anyone else.’

  ‘Not true!’ I laughed.

  ‘Name one man you’ve taken an interest in since you broke up with Ed.’

  ‘Well, Miss Smarty-Pants, there is one! I met one of the security guards last week and he definitely made me forget about Ed.’

  ‘Security guard? As in campus security?’ She scrunched up her face in concentration for a couple of seconds then exploded into fits of giggles. ‘You don’t mean Dan, do you?’ She guffawed some more.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You do mean Dan. You poor thing! I’m going to have to give you some lessons on how to fine-tune your gaydar.’

  ‘He’s gay?’

  ‘Camp as a row of tents.’

  ‘What a waste.’

  ‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ She sighed. ‘So that leaves Ed. Come on, tell me what really happened.’

  I saw her determined expression and laughed. ‘You don’t give up, do you? He said he was sorry.’

  ‘Big of him.’

  ‘And then he told me he loves me and he wants to try to make it work.’

  ‘That’s great … What’s with the frown?’

  ‘He told me he left Jewel Bay because I remind him of how his wife died.’

  ‘Oh, not so great. Are you going to see him again?’

  ‘He’ll be calling, but not for the reasons you think.’ I told her about the vision at the cemetery.

  ‘You heard the killer’s voice? Do you think he’s going to ask you to help with the case?’

  ‘Probably. I heard the killer but not very well.’

  ‘What if he asks you to touch more bodies?’ She gave a theatrical shudder.

  ‘Not going to happen. I was thinking of visiting where other possible victims might have died.’

  ‘It’s still gruesome.’

  ‘Not as gruesome as touching a corpse.’

  ‘I guess not. Gee, meeting you has really taken all the romance out of being a psychic. Your talent really sucks, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Mum’s is much sexier.’

  ‘Your Mum has a talent too?’ Her beautifully manicured eyebrows shot up a full inch on her forehead. ‘What can she do?’