‘If she touches you she can get glimpses of what the future has in store for you.’
‘She tells fortunes?’
‘Um, no, I wouldn’t put it like that. She’s not a gypsy.’
‘Who’s not a gypsy?’ Mum chose that moment to walk back in to check on me.
‘You, I was telling Claire what you can do.’
‘Oh, I see. She knows about your gift?’
‘Yes, she’s been listening to me whinge about it since I met her.’ I smiled at Claire. She really had been a good friend.
Mum smiled. ‘It’s kind of you to look out for Cass.’
‘It’s been my pleasure.’
Mum picked up our cups and headed for the door. ‘Don’t overdo it, Cass.’
Claire waited until she’d gone before she picked up the conversation again. ‘When are you back at work?’
‘Not until next week. I’ve got a meeting with Bennet first thing Tuesday.’
‘That’ll be fun. I’m not in until Tuesday either. We’ll catch up and you can tell me how it goes.’ Claire dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘How long is your mum going to be here?’
‘Why?’
‘She’s a bit over-protective, she almost didn’t want to let me in.’
‘She’s worried for me, but you’re right. I’ll encourage her to head home soon. I’m getting sick of being an invalid.’
Mum stuck her head in. ‘I hope you’re not getting too tired, Cass?’
Claire stood up. ‘It’s time I headed off, got an afternoon tutorial,’ she said, giving me a wink. ‘Take it easy, Cass. See you on Tuesday.’
I lay back against the pillows. I was tired but not enough to sleep. Claire was right, Mum was over-protective. I was grateful, though. The thought of being alone made me feel more than a bit anxious. I closed my eyes. Images of the man in the mask flashed through my mind. I broke out into a sweat and a surge of nausea hit me. I opened my eyes and focused on taking deep calming breaths. I was going to have to learn to cope with the memories of the attack. I couldn’t be afraid of living here alone. I wasn’t ready to go back to Jewel Bay and Mum couldn’t stay here forever.
Mum walked in and sat on the bed. I was so busy trying not to look stressed it took me a moment to realise that she was behaving oddly. She was sitting there like a statue and not saying anything – unheard of for my mother.
‘Mum?’
‘Mnnn?’
‘What’s wrong?’ My stomach clenched. I had a nasty suspicion that I knew what was behind her mood.
‘Claire gave me a hug goodbye. I didn’t initiate it, I promise.’ She knew I hated her using her talent to intrude on my life. The tired slump of her shoulders told me it wasn’t good news.
‘Oh no.’
She sighed.
‘What was it?’
‘I’m not exactly sure, Cass. Nothing that puts her in immediate danger but there’s a very dark presence hovering around her.’
‘A dark presence?’
‘Yes, someone in her life who has a lot of anger and hatred in them.’
‘That can’t be good.’
‘No.’
‘Did you say anything to her?’
‘No, not really. I told her to be careful.’
‘Maybe I should say something.’
‘No, Cass, you have to stay away from her. Whatever the darkness is, it’s dangerous for Claire and for those close to her.’
CHAPTER
25
After their fruitless visit with Dr Metzger and their equally unproductive trip to Hampstead, Ed and Dave had spent the rest of the week following up and interviewing Paul Jenkins’ known associates. They also had the unpleasant task of informing Evelyn Taylor that her son had finally been found. Ed had brought her in to do the ID. It was one part of his job that never got any easier.
In between interviews they spent time going over the Taylor and MacDonald files. Armed with their scant knowledge of Jenkins, they were looking for connections. Ed couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to find something to confirm what Cass had heard in her vision. Finding a link could mean they had a killer on a mission and he didn’t know if he was up for another case like that.
They’d found nothing. The NA group was the only possible link and they still couldn’t confirm that. They also drew a blank with Jones. It was like aliens had suddenly abducted her.
By the end of the week the case was heading towards a dead end at a rapid rate. Tired and frustrated, they took Sunday off to recharge their batteries.
When Monday morning rolled around Ed wasn’t even close to being re-energised. He’d spent most of Sunday trying unsuccessfully to turn off his brain. He hated cases where the more you looked the less you saw.
‘Dyson! My office, now!’
Ed groaned. He’d barely got five steps onto the floor before Crackers spotted him.
With a sinking feeling he dragged himself into Crackers’ office. The boss was behind his desk waiting for him. The look he gave Ed made him feel like something that’d been brought in on the bottom of a shoe.
‘Where have you been for the last week?’
‘I was sick last Monday but I was in the rest of the week.’
‘I didn’t see much of you. What did you think you were playing at, taking a bloody sick day in the middle of a fucking investigation?’ DCI Arnott leant forward in his office chair, making the frame creak in protest, and glared at Ed.
‘Sorry, sir. I had gastro. I didn’t think you’d want me to share it with the whole team.’
‘Reynolds gave me a couple of updates last week but it’s not enough. I want a full report on the progress you’ve made. I want to know what we’re dealing with. So far all I’ve got is bodies piling up and neither of you has given me jack-shit.’ He pulled out a rumpled handkerchief and mopped his brow.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Don’t “yes, sir” me! As the senior detective I expect more than bloody yes, sir from you! Are the deaths connected or not? What exactly are we dealing with here?’
‘We’re not sure, sir –’
‘Christ!’
‘But we think there might be someone targeting members of an NA group. Jenkins, MacDonald and Taylor all have some kind of connection to drugs. We think they all attended a Tuesday night meeting at NA.’
‘You can’t confirm it?’
‘The group leader who would have known is in a coma – he’s out at Hampstead.’
‘Shit. Anything definitive linking the vics together?’
‘Nothing other than the list of names we found on Paul Jenkins.’
‘Forensics?’
‘Still waiting for them to come in on Taylor, but nothing promising on the MacDonald or Jenkins cases. MacDonald had traces of amphetamines in her system but not enough to be fatal.’
‘There’s nothing more solid?’
‘We got the name of another person who attended the Tuesday group, a Carl Monaghan. He attacked the psychiatrist who does pro-bono work out there. Did a real number on him. He was sent to a psychiatric unit for a few months for the assault and one of the conditions of his release was regular attendance at appointments with another shrink.’
‘Let me guess, he hasn’t been going?’
‘No, and there’s been no sign of life at his old address. We’ve done a couple of sweeps but the guy’s fallen off the radar. It’s a Housing Trust place in Elizabeth, looks like it’s been done over a few times. If there’s someone living there, they’re living like dogs. Even the light bulb in the porch light’s been taken. We’ll keep trying. We need to speak to him. He should be able to tell us if the others went to the meeting.’
‘He could be your killer.’
‘Assuming he knew the others and had a reason to want them dead.’
‘Crazy doesn’t always need a reason. What about the other name on the list?’
‘Jones. We haven’t been able to find her yet.’
‘She’s alive?’
‘Hope
fully.’
‘And that’s it? You’ve got nothing else?’
‘One other thing.’
‘Yes?’
Ed took a breath. This was the point of no return. Should he risk telling him about Cass or not? He had to tell him. If the guy thought he was a joke, he’d only have another eight and a half months of ridicule to put up with, how bad could it be?
‘Bloody spit it out. I don’t have all day.’
‘You’re familiar with the serial case I worked last year?’
‘I don’t live under a rock. Of course I’m familiar with it. The whole fucking country knows about it.’
‘I worked with a psychic. She gave us the information that helped us identify the killer.’
Arnott groaned. ‘I hope you’re not going where I think you are.’
‘I’m afraid I am. She’s moved to Adelaide. She can help us.’
‘Shit.’
‘DCI Sorenson can confirm she’s legit if you need to hear it from someone else.’
Arnott didn’t say anything; he just sat there, staring. Ed returned his gaze, resisting the urge to squirm under the scrutiny. He felt like he was stuck in one of those games that kids play with each other to see who’ll blink and look away first.
Crackers broke the silence. ‘I’m gonna suspend my natural instincts which are telling me to kick your arse out of my office. Tell me what you think she can do.’
‘She can tell how people died if she visits where it happened.’
‘Uh-huh.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘We have a whole fucking forensics team to tell us that and they come with the bonus that their evidence is admissible in court!’
‘She hears and sees everything the vic heard and saw as well.’
‘That could be useful if it’s true, and if you actually know where your vic died. In your case that only applies to one of your three vics, doesn’t it?’
‘Paul Jenkins, but there’s more. She recently discovered she gets the same visions if she touches the vic’s body.’
‘I’m probably going to regret asking this, but how the fuck did she find that out? Most people don’t go around touching corpses.’ Arnott’s watery blue eyes bored into Ed’s.
Ed sighed. He’d been hoping to avoid that question. He looked down at his hands.
‘Tell me it wasn’t on this case?’
Ed didn’t answer.
‘So let me get this straight, she’s been involved on one of our crime scenes already? You involved a psychic in an official investigation without even fucking letting me know and you let her touch one of the bodies? Christ! I oughta kick your arse straight back to Fairfield.’
‘It’s not what you think. She was with me when I got the call to the Ben Taylor crime scene.’
‘Nursing you back to health no doubt?’
Ed flushed. He knew what was going through Arnott’s mind. He could try to explain but at the end of the day it wasn’t going to make any difference. He’d still have to fess up to chucking a sickie in the middle of an investigation.
‘She’s a good friend.’
‘I’m sure. And you thought it was OK to let her touch the body?’
‘No, the forensics guys were carrying the body past where she was standing and nearly dropped it on her feet. She touched it by accident. She had a vision. She thinks she heard the killer’s voice.’
‘Did she see him?’
‘No.’
Arnott stood up and moved over to look out his window across the grey city skyline, rubbing the back of his neck to try and relieve the knots of tension.
‘Does Reynolds know?’
‘Yeah.’
‘It goes against my better judgement but go ahead, use your psychic and see if it gets you anywhere but I don’t want the whole damn office to know. It stays between you, me and Reynolds for now. I don’t want a bloody media circus like in Fairfield. Unlike Sorenson, I think psychics are a load of shit. So if it gets out I’m going to say I knew nothing about it and leave your arse blowing in the wind. Are we clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Arnott turned around and glared at him. ‘Now bugger off and leave me to prepare a media release about this shit of a case.’
Ed walked into the hum of a normal day in MCIB. One thing that never ceased to amaze him was how little interest people showed in other people’s business. Back in Fairfield, the office gossip would have been hovering and trying to overhear what was being said and the whole team would have known what was going on before Ed had even stepped out of the boss’s office. Here, there were too many cases going on at once for anyone to be interested in what another person was working on unless they got dragged in to work it as well.
The lack of interest was a blessing but it made Ed feel insignificant. He was just another piece of a big machine that kept grinding on, day in, day out.
He walked over to the corner he shared with Reynolds. There was no sign of his partner. Dave’s computer screen was black and the red message light was glowing on his phone. Ed slid into the chair at his own postage stamp-sized desk. The office had recently been refurbished. From what Ed could tell, all that meant was new paint and less space per person.
He turned on his PC. He needed to run a thorough background check on Smythe, the leader from NA.
It took him close to ten minutes to log in and grind the cogs of the database into action. He typed in the details: Billy, aka William Smythe. He got a hit within seconds. The guy had a record that would have impressed Chopper Read. Ed scrolled through page after page: possession of class A narcotics, dealing, weapons offences, aggravated assault, sexual assault. He’d been up on a GBH charge as well but it was dropped when a witness suddenly developed a case of amnesia and refused to testify. Ed felt his pulse quicken. The guy had plenty of form. He could be their man. Maybe Dave’s first instinct had been right.
If they could prove that all the vics had attended NA, then the link might be enough to justify a search of his house and car. They might get lucky.
And then there was Cass … Could she help them and, more importantly, would she? She’d heard the killer’s voice. He’d used her on a voice ID before. Would she help him this time when he’d been such a dick the last time round? Who knew? He needed to run it all past Dave and get some perspective.
Where the hell was Dave? The guy was usually in bright and disgustingly early. He reached into his jacket pocket and dug out his mobile. Shit, three missed calls from Dave’s mobile. He’d forgotten he’d switched it to silent before going into Crackers’ office.
He dialled without bothering to check for messages. Dave answered on the first ring. ‘Hey, where are you?’ Ed said.
An audible sigh reached Ed’s ear. ‘You didn’t get my messages?’
‘No, I saw you’d been trying to call.’
‘You’re a fucking Neanderthal when it comes to technology, you know that, right? I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour. What have you been doing?’
‘Getting my arse chewed by Crackers. You?’
‘Something much more productive.’
‘Let me guess. Jessica, Claudia, Sophia, Clara?’
‘Fuck off! No, I’ve actually been working.’
‘Really?’
‘Really, and you’re going to love what I’ve got.’
‘I could use some good news.’
‘This is better than good. I’ve found Sarah Jones.’
CHAPTER
26
‘So where are we going?’
‘That’s the bit you’re not going to like.’
They were in Dave’s car. Ed had slunk past Arnott’s office on his way out, feeling like a naughty schoolboy skipping class.
Ed sighed. ‘I thought you said it was good news?’
‘The good news was finding her. Where I found her isn’t so good.’
‘She’s not in a coma as well, is she?’
‘No, it’s not that bad.’
‘Just tell me.’
‘She�
��s in Glenside.’
‘Glenside?’
‘The loony bin.’
‘Fuck, so what’s wrong with her?’
‘The nurse I spoke to over the phone didn’t want to give too many details without verifying who we were. One thing I do know is that she’s in a locked ward.’
‘Are they going to let us speak with her?’
‘I don’t know. We’ve got an appointment to see her psychiatrist.’
‘Can’t wait. That’ll be three in the space of a week.’
‘Not your favourite people?’
‘I had a gutful of them after my wife went missing and then again after the Fleurieu case. I wasn’t allowed back on the job until they were satisfied I was sane and rational.’
‘They fucked that up.’
‘Fuck off. So why didn’t she come up on our database searches if she’s in a psychiatric hospital? We should have got a hit.’
‘She’s using her maiden name, Matthews.’
Dave pulled into the car park of Glenside. Ed was surprised how large it was and how beautiful. The buildings were nestled among sweeping lawns and gardens.
‘Nice,’ he said.
‘Prime real estate. There’s some pretty expensive suburbs around here.’
‘Do the residents mind having a mental hospital next door?’
‘I’d say they do, but the hospital’s been here since the 1800s so there’s not much they can do about it. House prices probably drop every time someone escapes, though.’
‘That happen often?’
‘Seemed to be a run of them a few years ago, but none recently.’
The office of Dr Tuan Phan was a haven of peace and tranquillity. It had bookshelves lining one wall, a partner’s desk with inlaid leather top and a well-worn Persian rug on the floor. Ed felt more like he was in a private home than an office in the middle of sterile, monochromatic hallways and wards.
‘What can I do to help you, detectives?’
Dr Phan was a small, lean man with salt and pepper hair. Ed would have guessed him to be around fifty but he could have been older. He exuded an aura of calm competency that Ed was sure was designed to put both patients and visitors at ease.
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