Craven (9781921997365)

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Craven (9781921997365) Page 24

by Casey, Melanie


  Ed heard the catch in her voice. He could tell she was close to tears. He would have argued but every word she’d said was true.

  ‘Cass, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry doesn’t change things.’

  ‘No, I guess it doesn’t.’

  ‘Goodbye, Ed.’

  ‘Cass, wait –’

  She was gone.

  CHAPTER

  41

  I lay staring into middle space for a minute after hanging up on Ed. I’d heard the misery in his voice but I was sick of dealing with his on-again off-again love affair with me and my gift.

  I yawned hugely. I knew I should probably get up but my limbs felt like they were glued to the mattress. A solid eight hours’ sleep hadn’t been enough to recharge my depleted energy reserves after the emotional wringer of the day before.

  Friday had crawled past with agonising slowness. Michael’s hearing was at 2pm. Claire was going, naturally, and she’d promised to call me and let me know the outcome. I’d struggled through the morning tutorials then spent the afternoon checking my mobile every five minutes. The students must have been wondering what the hell was the matter.

  Claire had finally rung at four-thirty, in the middle of my last tutorial. I’d worked myself into such a state of anxiety that I could hardly hold the phone still.

  ‘Hi, Claire.’

  ‘Sorry, Cass. The hearing got delayed. Michael’s been remanded in custody pending a psychiatric evaluation next week.’

  ‘Oh, thank God.’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I instantly felt bad, he was still her brother after all. ‘I’m sorry, this must be awful for you.’

  ‘It’s all right, Cass. I’m relieved he’s out of harm’s way too. He’s lucky the police didn’t hurt him the other night. He’s safer where he is, and so are you. Hopefully he’ll get the help he needs.’

  ‘I hope so too.’

  We’d agreed to catch up the following week and I’d hung up and bumbled my way through the last twenty minutes of my tutorial. I wondered what I’d tried to teach them. Fingers crossed, none of them would complain to Bennet. That’d be the last thing I needed.

  Ten minutes later I was still trying to decide whether to get up and have a shower or turn over and go back to sleep when the phone rang again. I grabbed it and punched at the talk button expecting it to be Ed ringing me back.

  ‘Yes?’ I said.

  ‘Cass?’

  ‘Gran! Sorry, I thought it was someone else.’

  ‘I’m sorry to ring you so early but I’m wondering if you’ve heard from your mother?’

  ‘Mum? No, why?’ I sat up, throwing the bedclothes back. The undertone in Gran’s voice put me on full alert.

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing but she didn’t come home last night and I was hoping she might be with you.’

  ‘No, I haven’t spoken to her since Thursday morning before work. Why would you think she was here? She wouldn’t come to Adelaide without telling you.’

  ‘No, not unless she thought she’d told me.’

  ‘When did you see her last?’

  ‘Well, that’s the thing. I haven’t seen her since Thursday morning. I was out all day until quite late. I thought she was in bed when I got home. She might have been.’

  ‘You didn’t see her yesterday?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t around for breakfast but I figured she’d left the house early. She does that sometimes.’

  ‘And you didn’t see her last night?’

  ‘No, I went out with Rita for the day, she picked me up midmorning. When I got home I assumed she’d gone to see a client. You know how busy she normally is on Thursdays and Fridays. I didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t until I got up this morning that I started to worry. You know she never books things for Saturday morning. We usually have a leisurely breakfast over the paper.’

  ‘So she could have been missing since Thursday, after I spoke to her?’

  ‘Yes. Or only since yesterday. I don’t know.’

  ‘Is the car in the garage?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is there anything on the calendar?’ I pictured the calendar we had hanging in the kitchen that we all scrawled things on.

  ‘There’s something she’s written for Thursday but I don’t know what it is. She normally wrote client appointments in her diary.’

  ‘Which she’d have with her.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She’s probably fine.’ The words sounded empty in my own ears.

  ‘It’s so unlike her.’

  ‘I wish she’d get herself a mobile phone. What if she’s had an accident, Gran? Did you ring Natalia?’ Natalia was the DCI at Fairfield police station and one of Mum’s closest friends.

  ‘I wanted to check with you first.’

  I could hear tears in her voice. I felt close to them myself. I tried to stay calm. I needed to think. ‘Ring Natalia.’

  ‘I’ll ring you straight back.’

  ‘I think I should come down.’

  ‘You don’t need to do that.’

  I’d never heard Gran say one thing and mean the opposite so clearly in my life.

  ‘If I stay here I’ll go crazy with worry.’

  ‘What if she turns up at your place?’

  I didn’t think that was very likely but who knew? ‘Ring Natalia and then ring me back.’

  I hung up and sat on the edge of the bed. My hands were shaking. My heart was hammering in my chest and I couldn’t think straight. I had so much adrenaline buzzing through my veins all I wanted to do was jump in the car and drive straight to Jewel Bay.

  I stood up and paced around the bedroom. I couldn’t stay in Adelaide. What if the worst had happened? I couldn’t let Gran face that kind of news by herself. We needed to be together.

  I threw some clothes on and ducked next door. I could ask Miss Emily to keep an eye out in case Mum turned up. I rang her bell and stood on her doorstep fidgeting. There was no answer. She was out. Frustrated, I ducked back inside and diverted my home phone to my mobile before scratching a note to tape to the screen door for Mum in case she turned up.

  The drive back to Jewel Bay didn’t start well. Saturday morning was one of the busiest times for the trek from Adelaide to the Fleurieu Peninsula. Lots of city folk migrated south for a weekend by the sea or to visit the scores of wineries in McLaren Vale. I was wedged in the midst of the long stream of traffic.

  My fingers were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel they started to ache. I had my phone tucked in the console and I kept glancing at it, willing it to ring. It’d taken me less than ten minutes from the time Gran had phoned to hit the road. I couldn’t understand why Gran hadn’t phoned me back already but there was no point in me ringing her. She’d phone when she had something to tell me.

  I toyed with the idea of calling Ed, but decided there was nothing he could do that Natalia and the Fairfield police couldn’t. I didn’t need his help.

  I focused on the traffic and tried to think about anything but what might have happened to Mum. The conversation I’d had with Dr Metzger flashed through my mind. I didn’t know how I was going to cope if something had happened to her.

  Flashing lights ahead grabbed my attention. The traffic slowed to a crawl. There was an accident on the other side of the road. I could see police cars and an ambulance. One lane was completely blocked. I couldn’t see what had happened until I was almost on top of the scene. Two cars had collided at an intersection. One was a blue station wagon, the other a white sedan. The front of the white sedan was a crumpled mess.

  My stomach turned over and I started to sweat. Mum drove a white Corolla sedan. I slowed to a stop and peered through the frenzy of activity, straining to see what make of car it was. Cars behind me tooted. I ignored them. I didn’t care what road rules I was breaking. I needed to see the make of car. I threw my indicator on and pulled over to the side. Another horn blared. I grabbed my phone and climbed out. I had to wait for a break in the traff
ic so I could duck across the road. I forced my way between cars, eliciting another round of horn blasts. I finally got to the other side of the road and walked up to the scene of the accident. A police officer spotted me and moved to stop me approaching.

  ‘Can I help you?’ He was young. He looked like he’d only just started to shave. Pimples still dotted his chin.

  ‘I need to know if that’s my mother’s car.’ I sounded hysterical in my own ears so I could only imagine how I must have sounded to him.

  ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Yes, she’s missing. She didn’t come home last night.’

  He stared at me blankly for a couple of heartbeats before he registered my meaning. ‘She’s not here.’

  I must have looked like the words had skimmed over me because he reached out and gently grasped my arm. ‘Your mother wasn’t in this accident. The drivers were both male and there were no passengers.’

  Relief made me want to melt into a puddle on the ground.

  ‘Have you reported it to the police?’ the officer asked.

  ‘No. I mean, not yet, we will … thank you.’ I turned and went to cross the road. Another car beeped as I almost stepped in front of it.

  ‘You should go home,’ the officer called after me.

  I crossed the road and climbed back into my car. I felt wrung out.

  I was still sitting there when my phone rang, making me jump and scrabble to answer the call.

  ‘Gran?’

  ‘No, it’s Natalia.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Tension constricted my throat making my voice sound high and thin.

  ‘I don’t have any news.’

  I let out the breath I’d been holding, tears filled my eyes and I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  ‘Cass?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered.

  ‘I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ve got your gran searching your mother’s office to see if there’s anything that might tell us where she is. I’ve got uniform keeping an eye out for your mum’s car. There’s been no report of any accidents involving a car like your mum’s and no one that fits her description has been taken to any of the hospitals.’

  I cleared my throat. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘We don’t know how long she’s been missing. She could have only been out since yesterday afternoon. Maybe she visited a friend and decided to stay over.’

  ‘She would have phoned.’

  ‘I think so too but let’s not panic yet. Maybe her car’s broken down somewhere. I need you and your gran to stay calm. Your gran is going to try to compile a list of clients for me so we can ring them. We’ll find her, Cass.’

  ‘What if someone’s hurt her!’

  ‘That’s extremely unlikely. I’m sure there’s a much simpler explanation.’

  ‘I hope so. I’m on my way to Jewel Bay now.’

  ‘How close are you?’

  ‘Not very, I’m only about fifteen minutes from home.’

  ‘I want you to turn around and head back to your place. There’s a chance your mum might show up there. There’s nothing you can do here right now. I’ll look after your gran, I promise. If we still haven’t heard anything by tomorrow you can come down in the morning.’

  ‘I suppose …’

  ‘It’s way too early to panic yet. Try to get on with your day. I’m sure your mum will be fine.’

  I wasn’t convinced, but her tone went some way to soothing my nerves.

  CHAPTER

  42

  ‘Is it all right if I ask you some questions?’ Ed asked the pathologist doing the autopsy on Monaghan. He’d been watching her work for almost an hour. He didn’t know her. She looked young but it was hard to tell; most of her was covered by the cap, gown and mask.

  She was busy at the autopsy table. Monaghan’s chest was cracked open with the skin peeled back to expose organs. Ed’s stomach turned over and he swallowed down the rush of bile that surged into his throat. It didn’t matter how many times he experienced it, it always affected him the same way. He’d spend the rest of the day trying to erase it from his mind. The smell of death was heavy in the air, even when the body was relatively fresh like this one and the ventilation fan was on. He wished he’d remembered to smear some Vicks VapoRub under his nose.

  The pathologist peeled her gloves off and pulled her mask down to talk to him.

  ‘I can take your questions now. I’m nearly done. I just need to put him back together again. This one’s a bit strange, Detective …?’

  ‘Dyson, but you can call me Ed. Thanks for doing it so quickly.’

  ‘Alison Graham. Alison is fine.’ She glanced back at the body. ‘Other than the damage to the face there are no obvious injuries to indicate cause of death.’

  ‘And the face?’

  ‘The swelling looks like some kind of allergic reaction but I’m not sure yet.’

  ‘So you don’t know what killed him?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  He tried to stifle his impatience. He’d come across a lot of people like Alison in forensics. They liked to hold information and drip-feed it.

  ‘I’m waiting for the toxicology report but I think he was killed by a snakebite. If you look here,’ she pointed at a spot on Monaghan’s neck, ‘there appears to be a pair of small puncture wounds.’

  ‘It looks like a bite but I don’t understand. Why would someone go to the trouble of hiding someone who’d died from a snakebite?’

  ‘Maybe the snakebite wasn’t accidental.’

  ‘Murder by snakebite?’

  ‘It’s possible. Most victims of snakebite are bitten on the feet or legs when they’re out walking. It’s not very often someone gets bitten on the neck.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. No skin under his nails, no other obvious trauma. Nothing. Has your suspect given you anything?’

  ‘He claims he’s got no idea how the body got there. Says it wasn’t him.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he keeps snakes?’

  ‘No such luck.’

  ‘Birds?’

  ‘Birds?’ Ed was surprised.

  ‘I found a feather stuck to his shirt. It could be a chicken feather, although I’m not sure. I’ll send it off to be analysed. I thought maybe the suspect kept chickens on his property.’

  ‘I didn’t see any while we were there but I’ll double-check. Thanks, Alison.’ Ed turned to leave then stopped.

  ‘What colour was the feather?’

  ‘White, why?’

  ‘I think I’ve seen one before.’

  Ed jogged the short distance from the morgue to the MCIB office. He needed to get back and check his case notes. He’d seen a feather at the Ben Taylor scene, he was sure of it. Had they bagged it? He hoped so.

  He caught the lift up to his floor, twitching all the way. He barrelled out of the lift so fast he ran straight into Dave, almost knocking him off his feet.

  ‘Jesus, who lit a fire under your arse?’ Dave said, rubbing his shoulder.

  ‘Sorry, I need to check something.’ Ed kept running.

  Dave followed him. ‘The pathologist found something?’

  ‘Maybe. There was a feather on his shirt.’

  ‘A feather? That’s it?’

  Ed slid in behind his desk and powered up his computer, drumming his fingers impatiently while the log-on process ground through its motions. He brought up the Taylor file.

  ‘Yep, there it is. A white feather from a chicken,’ Ed said.

  ‘A chicken?’

  ‘That’s what it says here.’

  ‘No chickens in West Terrace Cemetery. Was the one on Monaghan’s shirt from a chicken?’

  ‘Don’t know yet. It’s gone for analysis.’

  ‘I don’t remember any chickens on Smythe’s property,’ Dave said.

  ‘Me neither. So if they are the same and Smythe put them there deliberately, what does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ed said, pushing his chair back and lo
oking at Dave for the first time.

  ‘Check Google. Type in “chicken feather” and see what comes up.’

  Ed clacked away with his two typing fingers. He scanned the results then huffed in frustration.

  ‘Nothing useful there. I’ll try “white feather”.’ The results flashed up a second later. ‘Huh, well what do you know? A white feather is a symbol of cowardice.’

  They stared at each other.

  ‘Looks like your crazy theory about the killer terrifying them to death wasn’t so crazy after all.’

  Ed stood up and started to jot notes on a whiteboard near their desks. ‘MacDonald: afraid of the water, drowns. Taylor? Maybe claustrophobic? Suffocates. Jenkins: afraid of heights, falls to his death. Monaghan: afraid of snakes, bitten by one.’

  ‘So how does Strauss fit the pattern? Cass said he was a victim too,’ Dave said.

  ‘Was he a former user?’

  ‘Maybe he was afraid of going back on the gear?’

  ‘Time to talk to Smythe again,’ Ed said.

  CHAPTER

  43

  I tried to get my breathing under control. I’d been in the shower, kneading at the knots of tension in my shoulders. The sound of the phone ringing had launched me from the bathroom in a frenzy.

  It was a random telemarketing call, and I was so angry and frustrated that it wasn’t Gran or Natalia with news that I nearly broke the phone when I slammed it down. I stood there, dripping and shivering. I wrapped the towel tighter around me. My heart was beating so hard it felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. My legs trembled and I sank into an untidy heap on the carpet.

  I tipped my head forwards, trying to fight off the blackness that was teasing at the edges of my vision. Images of my mum, twisted, bloody and dead danced in front of my eyes. I rammed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, attempting to banish the horrible thoughts. I felt like someone had wrapped bands of steel around my chest. I could hear a weird whistling sound and then I realised it was me trying to drag the air down my throat.

 

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