I said that it was her decision to make, but I’d definitely call the police if he wasn’t back by tomorrow.
Tom had said he thought something might happen while he was drugged. Maybe that something was connected to Jimmy’s disappearance. I wondered if I should say anything about what Stan had told me, but when I glanced at him he shook his head. Unsure if it was the right thing to do, I told Marie to let me know if I could help in any way, and I left the house. Stan caught up with me at the gate.
‘Meg,’ he said urgently, ‘don’t let on about Jimmy and Doreen. Not yet. I promised him.’ He looked close to tears.
‘But Stan, any promise you made to Jimmy doesn’t count if he could be in danger. You’ve got to tell the police. Tell them everything you know.’
He bit his bottom lip anxiously. ‘I’ll tell them if he’s not back tomorrow. He might be hiding out for a dare or something.’ But he didn’t look as if he believed that.
As I made my way to the bus stop the next morning, my neighbours were huddled together in small groups, talking together and looking concerned. Mrs Phoenix was standing beside her gate, watching the street fearfully.
‘Oh, Meg,’ she said in a teary voice, ‘Jimmy McLean is still missing. He didn’t come home last night and Marie is beside herself with worry.’
‘Did she call the police?’
‘Yes, this morning. They’ve already started a search. Young Stan is helping. Oh, Meg, they’re going to drag Dyson’s Swamp.’
That was what the old-timers called Shenton Park Lake. I thought of how foul and stinking the lake became by the end of summer, and I shuddered.
As soon as I arrived at work I called the telephone number I had for Tom and left a message with the snooty receptionist. He telephoned me at nine-thirty, sounding distant and businesslike. When I said that I needed to see him, he asked me why.
Miss Filmer and Annie had arrived, so I whispered, ‘Jimmy McLean is missing. He’s Cec McLean’s son. He was last seen at lunchtime yesterday. I think he knows something about Doreen.’
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
‘Tom, did you hear me?’
‘Yes, I heard.’ His tone was brusque. I heard him sigh. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t meet you today. There’s something big going on here. I’ll try to telephone you later, or I’ll send a message tomorrow.’
I hung up. My palms were moist and I felt nauseous. He obviously did not want to meet me. I sat, staring at nothing, until Annie asked me what was the matter.
‘I’m an idiot.’
She smiled. ‘Captain Cute?’
‘If he’s Captain Cute, I’m Major Disaster.’
‘Is he feeling better today?’
‘Yes. It was a stomach wog. He’ll be fine.’
Tom didn’t telephone. When I left work, the headline of the afternoon paper, the Daily News, gave me the story as I waited for my bus: NEDLANDS BOY MISSING. I spent the journey home in a fog of misery.
They had dragged the lake but found nothing, Mrs Phoenix informed me as I met her, standing outside her gate that evening.
Her pale eyes were filled with tears. ‘Where can he be, Meg? Do you think someone stabbed him like they did Doreen? Then hid his poor little body? Do you think there’s a maniac loose?’
I told her, firmly, that I did not think it was a maniac and it was likely that Jimmy had run off as a lark. I didn’t believe it, though.
The following morning Jimmy was still missing and I was early into work, hoping that Tom would telephone me there. A letter arrived for me instead, asking me to meet him outside the front of the Supreme Court building at five o’clock. It was a long day. Whenever I couldn’t distract myself with work I thought of Jimmy McLean as I had last seen him, pale and drawn and obviously frightened. Why hadn’t I realised that something was really wrong? I had been so bound up in my own concerns that I had failed to notice what was going on in my street.
When I met him Tom looked grim, but otherwise seemed no worse for what had happened two days before. I took one look at him and began to cry, deep gulping sobs that racked my body. He led me to a nearby bench under a tree in Stirling Gardens and I collapsed onto it, still weeping, unable to stop. Tom lit a cigarette and waited until I was calm.
‘Tell me what you know about all this,’ he said.
The gardens were practically empty, apart from a few workers on their way home. The heat of the day lingered in the still air. I could hear birds in the trees, singing above our heads. A cicada’s dry rhythmic chirp came from somewhere nearby. Life was getting on around us. I blew my nose.
‘I don’t know much,’ I said, mopping at my face with my handkerchief and uncomfortably aware that I must look red-eyed and blotchy. ‘On Saturday, Stan McLean told me that Jimmy knew something about Doreen’s death. Only Jimmy was really scared and wouldn’t let him talk about it. Jimmy’s only fourteen – oh, Tom, he’s such a nice boy.’ Choking back tears, I went on. ‘Stan also said his father might have been blabbing. Did you meet Cec on Friday night? Did you pay him?’
‘I met Cec McLean on Thursday. He told me that someone had overheard Doreen asking an American for something that she wanted to get for me. Because my name was mentioned, he assumed that I’d pay to keep it out of the ears of the police.’
‘And you did pay him.’ My voice was accusatory. ‘He came home drunk on Friday night. He beat his wife that night, you know. Why did you pay him anything?’
Anger flared in Tom’s face and his voice was harsh. ‘I didn’t pay him a thing. If he got paid it was by someone else.’
‘Oh.’ I felt ashamed for having doubted him. ‘Who paid him then?’
‘How the hell should I know, Meg? I bought him a couple of beers on Thursday night, that’s all. I won’t be blackmailed.’
‘What did Doreen want to get for you? Morphine?’
He flinched. ‘Apparently she was non-specific,’ he said in a cool voice. ‘I told McLean I didn’t care if he told the police. He had nothing. The information was not worth worrying about.’
‘So why is Jimmy missing?’ I was nearly shouting. I took a deep breath and spoke more softly. ‘If he didn’t know anything worthwhile, then why is he missing?’
‘I have absolutely no idea,’ he said, in his usual infuriatingly calm manner. He paused for a moment. ‘Actually, I do have some ideas, but I need more information.’
‘What information?’
‘The autopsy report, for one thing. Munsie wouldn’t let me look at it.’
I almost smiled. ‘I have a copy of the autopsy report. And copies of most of the statements taken by the police. And I spoke to Frank Luca a couple of weeks ago. I’m pretty sure he didn’t kill Doreen.’
Tom’s expression seemed to indicate admiration and anxiety in equal parts. ‘How did you get hold of all that? And speak to Luca? He’s still on the run, isn’t he?’
I gave him a cool look in return. ‘I just did,’ I said, feeling smug. Then I smiled shakily. ‘It’s all at home. Come with me and we can go through it.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘If I turn up with you looking like that, your mother will send me away with a flea in my ear.’
I was puzzled, then remembered I’d been crying. I put my hand up to my face. ‘Do I look awful?’
‘You look beautiful. But you look like you’ve been crying.’
Embarrassed, I turned towards the Supreme Court building. ‘I’ll get Marty to let me in to the ladies’ room,’ I said. ‘He’s the nightwatchman.’
Marty let me back in and the mirror in the ladies’ room revealed that I did look awful: my powder had run in tracks down my face, my eyes were red and puffy and my lipstick was nonexistent. After repairing the damage as well as I could, I joined Tom outside. He was still sitting on the bench and had lit another cigarette.
‘What time did you leave me on Monday night?’ he asked. He was staring at a spot on the grass, a few yards away from where he was sitting.
‘Nine o’clock
or so.’ I kept my voice light and sat beside him. ‘There’s something else. Don Dudley came to our house with an interesting story on Sunday night.’
This got his attention. ‘What was that?’
‘He’s the one who hit Doreen on the head. He feels terrible about it. He got angry when he saw her kissing Chad on the bush path that leads from the base to Winthrop Avenue. She lost consciousness when he hit her and he went and got Chad. They helped her up and Chad promised her money if she’d forget about it. Then he and Chad went back to the base and she walked away down the path.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘You were hardly in a state to take it in on Monday.’
His face twitched, but he said nothing. Then he sighed and stood up. ‘Come on then, I’ll take you home. I want to see what Jimmy’s brother has to say about all this.’
Twenty-six
We pulled up outside my house in Tom’s car, and walked across to the McLeans’ to see if Stan was available to see us. Marie said he was out searching for Jimmy. She looked exhausted and the yellowing bruises stood out on her pale face. Tom said he’d call in later on the off-chance that Stan was home, or see him tomorrow. As we were walking down the path Tom pulled his right hand into a fist.
‘The husband gave her those bruises?’ His voice was low and angry.
I nodded. ‘He’s a horrible man. Poor Marie.’
Tom was holding his lips very tightly. When I saw the look in his eyes I remembered how he had dealt with Harvey and thought it was lucky for Cec that he was away at sea.
Ma was surprised to see Tom, but she gave him a warm welcome and invited him to stay to dinner. Joan and Wally were out somewhere, so it was only the three of us.
‘I like Tom very much,’ Ma said to me when we were in the kitchen serving up. ‘But he’s still an engaged man, Meg. Please try to remember that.’
After we’d eaten I asked Ma if Tom and I could use the dining room for a project we were working on together. Her look was quizzical but she said nothing. I went to my room to fetch my notes. I also got a blank notebook for Tom.
‘Meg, why are you so sure that Frank didn’t kill Doreen?’ Tom asked as I handed him the notebook.
I thought about how I should reply, and said as calmly as I could, ‘It was in his manner, in the way he talked about her. I believed him.’
He was watching me. There was an odd expression on his face, somewhere between indulgent and exasperated. I had missed his eyes over the past few weeks, but I felt the usual sense of being drawn into them.
‘You also think Chad Buchowski is a nice man. We can all be wrong about people. People lie all the time. They tell half-truths and they reinvent history in their heads.’
It was a fair point. Mr Goodley often said the same thing. But I recalled how Frank Luca had looked as he described what happened that night. I was sure that he had told me the truth, as far as he could remember it.
‘I was wrong about Chad.’ I blurted out the words. When Tom raised an eyebrow I felt myself blushing and went on hurriedly. ‘Look, Tom, I questioned Frank as well as I could. He was scared and maybe he was lying about some things, but I don’t think that he killed her. And I don’t think he knows who did, either.’ I paused. ‘Do you really believe that everybody lies? Do you lie? Have you lied to me?’
He looked over towards the window. It was covered with the blackout curtain.
‘You lied to me about Doreen, didn’t you? About the crush she had on you. That’s what you argued about on the night before she died.’
His voice was dangerously calm. ‘Crush. I suppose it is crushing to your spirit to want someone who doesn’t want you. How did you know about that?’
‘Betty Barwon overheard.’
‘I wonder how many people she’s told,’ he said sourly. ‘I didn’t know Doreen felt that way about me until that night. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I had no idea that I could still be an object of desire.’
‘Idiot. That’s lying to yourself.’
He was no longer calm. ‘Let it go, Meg.’
I flinched at his tone, but continued. ‘Betty told me Doreen offered to get you anything you wanted,’ I said. ‘From what Jimmy overheard, it seems as if that was what she was trying to do. Perhaps she met up with someone in the air raid shelter to get something for you, or to find out something for you. To make you like her again.’
‘I didn’t stop liking her.’
‘You were horrible to her.’
‘And why do you assume that what Betty Barwon told you is the truth? I was not horrible to her.’
He seemed to be closely observing the table. ‘I suppose Betty also told you what Doreen said to me.’
‘Yes. But she said you didn’t believe Doreen. I don’t believe it either, not about Phyllis. Betty said Doreen would lie to get what she wanted.’
‘I did believe Doreen. That’s why I was so angry.’
‘Then you are an idiot. I don’t like Phyllis, but . . . Well, I think that she loves you. I can’t see her with Chad Buchowski under any circumstances.’
‘I can. She admitted it to me.’
I felt as if the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I couldn’t look at him, so I stared at my hands, gripped together in my lap.
‘She told me last week. We were arguing.’ I wondered what they had been arguing about and glanced up to find him watching me. ‘It wasn’t about you. Phyll wants to get married right away, but I want to wait until the end of the war. It’s a sore point.’
‘Tom, even if she did go with –’
‘Leave it, Meg.’ He shook his head, as if puzzled. ‘Why is it I always end up telling you things I never mean to?’
Sitting up straighter, he picked up the pencil. His voice was brisk and businesslike. ‘Now, what have you got for me about this murder?’
I told him in detail everything Frank had told me, and handed my file to him. He read it all carefully and made some notes of his own. When he had finished, he sat back with a thoughtful expression.
‘Well, it’s clearer now. Transcribing the post-mortem report was inspired work.’
I flushed a little. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think Doreen might have been stabbed in the bushland before twelve-thirty.’
‘But she was stabbed in the heart, Tom. And seen walking alone across Winthrop Avenue. How could she have done that if she’d been stabbed in the heart? And anyway, it says that she died in the shelter, because of –’ I pulled the notes towards me and read, ‘ “The post-mortem pooling of blood indicates that death occurred in situ.” See?’
He drew a sharp line under some of the notes he had made on the pad. ‘I know that. But just because she died in the shelter doesn’t mean she was stabbed there. I’ve been swotting up on stab wounds. I feel a responsibility towards Doreen. She helped me, and I liked her a lot.’
‘All right. What did you find out?’
‘There was a case in England in the thirties where a young man was stabbed in the heart with a small sheath knife during a fight outside a dance hall. He was lying on the ground and moaning, but the people who saw him assumed he was drunk. He got to his feet, told a passer-by that he was going to the police and walked unaided along the street. He was unsteady on his feet, walking bent over and holding his stomach. Everyone who saw him assumed that he was drunk.’
He sat back in his chair and gave me a level look. ‘Interesting, don’t you think?’
‘He had been stabbed in the heart?’
Tom nodded. ‘The autopsy established that his death was due to cardiac tamponade.’
‘That’s in Doreen’s autopsy report.’ My own heart was beating fast now.
‘A tamponade occurs when the heart is penetrated and blood pours out of it into the pericardium.’ I shrugged and shook my head, uncomprehending. He elaborated. ‘That’s the fluid-filled sac surrounding the heart.’
‘How could anyone live for so long after a wound like that?’
<
br /> ‘The pathologist concluded that the blood seeped into the pericardium comparatively gradually, because of the oblique way in which the knife penetrated the heart. Basically, his heart was able to keep beating long enough to let him get up and walk.’
‘The autopsy report says the wound to Doreen’s heart was oblique.’
‘Yes.’
‘Was that boy – the one who was stabbed – was he trying to get anywhere in particular? Was he able to think clearly, I mean?’
‘It seems he was trying to get to the police station, which was about 500 yards away. In fact, he went past it, so maybe he was confused. When he was found unconscious he had gone a total distance of 600 yards in about twenty minutes.’
I tried to measure the distance in my mind. It would only be around 300 yards, 400 at the most, from the Catalina base to the Phoenixes’ air raid shelter.
‘What happened to him?’
‘He was carried on a stretcher to the police station, where he was able to give his name and address, and to say he had been in a fight. He died soon after admission to hospital. But he survived for an hour and a half after receiving a fatal stab wound to the heart.’
‘So, you think Doreen was stabbed, the murderer ran off and then she got up and walked towards home.’
‘Possibly. I’m just exploring possibilities.’ He pushed his hand through his hair again, and sighed. ‘Meg, it’s still possible that Frank murdered Doreen. He admitted to you that he saw Doreen and Chad in the bush that night. That would be a powerful motive. And he ran away, which looks bad.’
‘It could just as easily have been Chad then! We don’t know for sure that anyone’s telling the truth. Don might protect him.’ I had been quite confident that Don was telling me the truth when he told me his story, but if I had to choose which man I believed most, it was Frank.
‘You’re right. We don’t know anything. But, if Doreen’s case is like the one I’ve just described, then at least we know it’s possible she was stabbed in the bush before twelve-thirty.’
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