by Vanda Symon
‘Could be, she’s scary enough,’ Paul said.
‘And Mataura is as far away as you can get from England and still be on the planet. We do define the back of beyond.’
‘No argument there.’
‘So what happens to Dr Walden now?’ I asked. ‘Is he in custody?’
‘We’ve got some final checks to make with our colleagues in Britain. We want to make sure he can’t wheedle his way out of this one on a technicality. He’ll face charges in the morning relating to practising without a medical certificate. And, of course, we’re still looking for any involvement in the Knowes case. Either way, he’s going to be experiencing some of Her Majesty’s hospitality.’
Good bloody job too. That rat had to pay for what he did to Gaby and those other women.
‘So do you really think he had anything to do with Gaby’s death?’ I asked.
‘Do you mean professionally or personally?’ Paul cocked his head to the side.
‘Is there a difference?’ I asked, curious that he’d separate the two.
‘Professionally, he could still have paid a third party to have Mrs Knowes killed, so the case is still open there. Personally, even with this new information, I don’t think he did it. His game is about lies and power. Paying to have her killed so it looked like suicide is not a display of power.’
‘So where do we go with the investigation from here?’ I asked.
Paul looked at me as if I was mad. ‘I’ve told you, there is no “we”, Sam. You need to stay out of it. You’re still under the microscope, or have you forgotten that? You could still get into serious trouble, especially after pulling stunts like this.’ He tapped on Gaby’s computer, which had flicked over to its screen saver – a family photo including the dog.
My face reddened, and not just because of the reprimand. ‘How could I possibly forget? But I still think I’d be useful with the locals. I know the…’
‘Stay out of it. I’m serious. The Boss is under a lot of pressure from above to get this case solved and tidied up. He’s as grumpy as hell and he hasn’t taken kindly to your extracurricular activities.’
‘Is he really putting me up for disciplinary?’
Paul reached over and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘He’s started the paperwork. But to be honest, Sam, he has a soft spot for you. I’m sure he wouldn’t go through with it unless he absolutely had to. He has to be seen to be maintaining discipline and standards. My message is don’t push his patience too far.’
I suspected I already had.
36
I looked at the empty space on the table and contemplated my next move. Now Paul had taken Gaby’s computer into custody, and mine had been commandeered by the police, I was going to have to sweettalk Maggie into letting me use hers for a bit more research. I could have used my smartphone, but peering into that little screen wasn’t going to do my eyes or my headache any favours.
The landline phone started to ring. Maggie was busy concocting a stir-fry in the kitchen. It sure as hell smelled good. Not counting the chocolate biscuits, I’d hardly eaten all day. I picked up on the fifth ring.
‘Hello,’ I said in my usual I’m-expecting-a-friend manner. What I got was silence, then a deafening click, followed by beep, beep, beep, beep.
‘God, that’s annoying’ I hung up and tossed the phone back where I’d found it on the sofa.
‘What’s your problem?’ was the call from the kitchen.
I wandered on through. ‘Second frigging one of those today. You’d think if people dialled a wrong number they’d just say sorry, instead of hanging up in your ear. Either that or someone thinks it’s a real grown-up way of expressing their delight at my television appearance.’
‘Give them a piece of your mind,’ Maggie said, and emphasised her point with an animated wave of the implement in her hand. ‘Knowing the mentality around here, it will be someone’s sick idea of a joke. You could probably trace the call to the pub. There’ll be a group of guys rolling around on the floor laughing, thinking they’re oh so clever after seeing you on the news. In fact, I find it odd you haven’t wanted to watch it.’
Maggie got my yeah-yeah-yeah look in reply. First off, I hadn’t wanted any distractions while I explored Gaby’s computer; then Paul had called by. And despite being curious about the report on the rest of Gaby’s case, I didn’t feel like being witness to my own moment of glory.
‘Yeah, well, my day has sucked enough without putting myself through the extra torment. It would only put me in a worse mood.’
‘That’s possible, is it?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t really want to find out. I think—’ My words were cut off by the telephone again.
‘I’ll take care of this one,’ I said as I strode over, grabbed it off the sofa and hit the talk button. ‘Now piss off, you fucking bastards. This is not bloody funny. Just grow up.’
There was a brief, stunned silence before my heart hit my boots. I recognised who was on the other end purely by the sharp intake of breath. Oh, shit.
‘Well I never. What sort of a way is that to greet anyone?’
My eyes scrunched closed and my free hand did an immediate face-palm.
‘I’ve never heard anything so rude in all my life. Now what is going on with you? First I get to see you sprawled all over the news, then I get this kind of reception when I call to see if you’re alright.’
‘God, Mum, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was—’
‘Well that much is obvious. What is going on? And why is it that the first I hear of this is through the telly? When were you going to bother to tell us?’
Oh Lordy, she had her hurt voice on. I knew from bitter experience this conversation wasn’t salvageable. I may as well resign myself to fate and take the blows.
‘I’m sorry, so much has been going on, I just haven’t had the chance—’
‘Well it’s good to know where we rate on your list of priorities. For heaven’s sake, they’re saying that you had something to do with the death of this woman, Lockie’s wife. Is that true? They wouldn’t say things like that unless there was something to it. I hope you didn’t have anything to do with this.’
I could not believe my ears – from my own mother.
‘Mum, how can you even think that? Of course I didn’t have anything to—’
‘Well, I don’t know what to think, Sam. It’s obvious you’ve been keeping things from us. They were saying you’ve been suspended. Everyone’s been ringing to see what’s going on, and what have I been able to tell them? Nothing, not a thing, because my daughter hasn’t even seen fit to give me a call.’
She was on a roll, and I knew there was no point trying to insert my side of the story now. The direction of the conversation was inevitable.
‘And your father. You know he’s not well. This could kill him, you know. He was back at the hospital for tests again this morning, so we found out from everyone else that you were on the news, and in your pyjamas. Sam, what were you thinking? What will other people think? We had to wait till tonight to see it because you didn’t have the decency to call, and you weren’t answering your phone.’
Too right there. This was precisely what I’d been trying to avoid. Look how well that move had paid off. My head was aching on too many different levels.
‘So when are you coming home? You can’t stay there. You can help out on the farm. Thank heavens Stephen is here – he and Sheryl are basically running the place for us now. We couldn’t do without them.’
And there it was. Saint Steve had married their perfect daughter-in-law – the one who stayed at home to raise their perfect grandchildren. A point that I was reminded of in every conversation. How could I possibly compete?
‘I know your dad would love to have you back. We said you should never have gone into the police. Look where it’s got you. You should have married that man when you had the chance; you were a fool to let him get away. Things could have been so different. If you’d married him, that girl would
never have died.’
Oh bloody hell, now it was my fault that Gaby had been murdered, instead of her being tucked away safe in some civil-service job in Auckland. God only knows how Mum had come to that conclusion – although, in the addled state my mind was in, there was some morbid kind of logic to it.
‘Mum, Mum, look, I had nothing to do with Gaby’s death. I’m only off duties because of my former association with Lockie, that’s all.’ That wasn’t all, but there was no point in explaining further. That thought was proven as when I finally got to put an end to the torturous conversation and get off the phone, ten minutes later, she still didn’t know anything, because she hadn’t given me a chance to get a further word in.
‘Could today get any worse?’ I still had my hands wrapped around the mug of tea Maggie had shoved into them after she’d prised the telephone off me and extinguished my burning ear. She was parked next to me on the sofa.
‘The way it’s going, I don’t dare answer that question. Have you never heard of tempting fate?’
‘Fate, karma, whatever, I must have done something dreadfully bad in a previous life to deserve this.’
‘Was this when you were Cleopatra or Helen of Troy?’
‘Catherine the Great.’ She’d managed to wheedle a smile out of me. ‘Do you think it would be too rude if I rang up and cancelled on Cole. I don’t think I can face going out now. I just want to curl up somewhere and quietly die.’
‘Well you could, but he’s probably already on his way. And if you were counting on my company, I’ve already promised the work girls we’d go over to Gore for a night out. I’m the wheels, so I can’t bail out, sorry.’ She reached over and patted my knee. ‘A night out might take your mind off things.’
Maggie was right. I had kind of been counting on her company. ‘Everyone’s going to have seen me. They’ll be talking, staring. I’ll never be able to live it down. What if someone decides to have a go?’
‘I don’t think you have to worry there. Cole doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to let anyone have a go at a lady, much less you.’
‘Thanks for the compliment,’ I said as I clipped her one on the arm.
‘Oh, don’t be stupid, you know what I mean. He’ll look after you. Anyway, you can’t sulk for ever. If you get out there and show your face, people will give you credit for it and think you’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘You really think so?’ I wasn’t so sure.
‘Yes. Best thing you can do.’
I put the mug down and slouched back into the chair.
‘God, I suppose I should. It will be an early night, though. I feel like crap.’
‘Look a bit like crap, and I hate to tell you, still smell a bit like it too. But I suppose you have had a bit of a shit day.’ If I’d had more energy I’d have thumped her properly. ‘So, what are you wearing out on your date?’
Argghhh. She kept calling it a date. It was nothing of the sort.
‘It’s not a flaming date, we’re just going out for a drink. I think it’s the least I can do, considering. In fact, I probably owe him more than one. I’m just being polite.’
‘Whatever you say, sunshine.’ Maggie could be a cow when she wanted to be. ‘But if you want to look the part on your being-polite non-date, your red V-neck top makes quite an impression.’
37
Friday-night revelries weren’t yet in full swing when we entered The Arms. Most of the tables were adorned with drinkers, but the volume was still at semi-sober.
‘You look really nice tonight. That top suits you well,’ Cole said. The hint of colour that rose in his face gave away his self-consciousness.
I brushed at some non-existent crumb. ‘Oh, thanks. Yeah, I think I spilled some dinner on it.’ I was never very good at taking a compliment.
There were several raised eyebrows as we made our way through the pub. A few people stared momentarily before turning back to their drinking companions – to fill them in on the gossip, I was sure. Cole must have noticed them too, as he put his arm around my shoulders and gently ushered me towards the bar.
‘Good to see you, young Samantha. What will you have?’ Pat Buchanan always had a handle on what was happening in the town. If he was genial towards me, it was a good sign, though my choice of chaperone probably helped. I was just about to reply when I caught a glimpse of Lockie in my peripheral vision. My pulse jumped and the atmosphere in the bar suddenly became very close.
‘Oh, just an IPA,’ I stammered as I craned around to make sure I had seen correctly and wasn’t on a codeine-induced hallucination.
‘Ahem,’ rumbled a deep voice beside me. ‘I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking.’
‘Oh, shit, yes, that’s right…’
Lockie was working his way over to the bar.
‘A lime and soda, then, thanks.’
He was making slow progress as well-wishers came up to him and shook his hand. I supposed it was his first public outing since Gaby’s death.
‘Ahem,’ came the voice beside me again. I tore my gaze away from Lockie to see a frown disturbing Cole’s face. ‘I believe you’re supposed to be shouting me a drink.’
A blush crawled its way up mine.
‘God, sorry Cole, I just saw,’ I gestured towards Lockie, ‘you know. What will you have?’ I couldn’t meet his eyes. That was really good form, Shep.
Cole looked over, saw who was coming and said, ‘Why don’t you find a seat over there?’ He pointed in the opposite direction to Lockie. ‘I’ll bring the drinks over.’
I grabbed the opportunity for a dignified retreat and headed for the armchairs. Shit. Lockie was the last person I expected to see. Surely Cole wouldn’t have brought me here if he knew Lockie was going to be in attendance. They were mates, and I was absolutely certain Cole would have filled Lockie in on his opportune rescue. It had probably provided Lockie with some welcome comic relief.
None of the other patrons seemed to pay me any attention now; curious eyes instead followed Lockie. I hastily reapplied some lipstick and rearranged my clothes. I eased the fabric of my skirt straight with my hands. I always felt slightly exposed in a skirt, but Maggie had insisted. She’d also insisted on me wearing my long boots to cover up the decidedly unattractive gouge down my shin. Alas, there wasn’t much that could be done with my hair other than try to hide the lovely split down the back of my head.
I looked about to see where Cole and the drinks were. They were over talking to Lockie. I saw Cole indicate, beer in hand, in my direction and Lockie pat him on the shoulder as he turned to make his way back.
Jesus bloody Christ, what the hell did Cole think he was playing at?
My eyes must have been laden with accusation, because he started to explain as he sat the drinks down on the table.
‘Lockie just wants to pop over for a second. He’s come in to finalise a few arrangements for tomorrow. He’s not staying.’
Of course, I should have figured that one. The funeral. It would be a big one, at the Catholic church. As well as his and Gaby’s families, Lockie had a lot of loyal friends and acquaintances who would be there to support him. There would be his workmates, members of the local community, professional mourners and opportunistic morning-tea eaters, as well as the straight-out curious. A high-profile death invariably brought out the rubberneckers and vultures who feasted on the misfortune of others.
It was also common for the perpetrator of a murder to make an appearance at the funeral – to add a final insult to their victim. To gloat over the destruction and grief their act had created, and savour the mourners’ homage to their work. Would I recognise them if I saw them there? Would I be able to look Gaby’s killer in the eyes and identify the evil that inhabited them? I would certainly be paying close attention to those present.
Lockie had almost woven his way over to our possie when a new song began to drawl through the speakers.
‘Stand By Your Man’. Just perfect.
Cole excused himself as Lockie too
k up position perched on the edge of a chair.
‘How’s the head?’ he asked, immediately breaking the tension.
‘It’s letting me know it’s still there,’ I said, and smiled at him. ‘I’m sorry about abandoning your ute. I’m rather grateful no one flogged it.’
‘Yeah. I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble with the Boss. I had to tell him about your involvement.’
‘I know. I’ll deal with it, but I’m still going to keep looking into things. How does the saying go? In for a penny?’ We sat in silence for a while. Lockie looked around the room and jiggled his leg up and down. I recognised the mannerism from our years together. Besides driving me nuts, it was a sure sign of something on his mind.
‘What’s the matter?’ I finally asked. What wasn’t the matter was probably the more appropriate question.
Lockie looked up at the ceiling, then with a big sigh looked me dead in the eye. ‘I need to ask you a favour,’ he said.
Was that all? It couldn’t be that bad.
‘What do you need? Of course I’ll help.’
‘I need you to stay away from Gaby’s funeral.’
I felt the blood drain out of my face, only to surge back as the rest of me registered the kick to my solar plexus. I fought back the tears that leaped into my eyes, unbidden.
‘Why?’ I managed to choke out the word.
‘Ah, Christ,’ he said as he looked back up towards the ceiling. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through pursed lips. ‘There’s no kind way to say this. People are talking. The police still view you as a suspect, there’s the TV thing. I want…’ He ran his hand through his hair and that tortured look which had become a familiar feature of his face twisted further. ‘I want tomorrow to be about Gaby. I don’t want any distraction, any unwanted attention. I don’t want anything to taint this for her. I’m sorry, I just can’t have you there.’
He stood up abruptly and retreated back into the hubbub of the room. Tears prevented me from seeing where he went. There was a roaring in my ears, too, and I barely registered someone sitting next to me, the arm around my shoulders.