by MJ Doherty
Amanda thanked her for taking her out to see the old place. Amanda’s next stop was the local police station. The young officer on duty was neither helpful nor interested. Returning to the hotel to spend some time in the bar, Amanda chatted to the pub’s regulars.
None of the men in the old fashioned bar had anything useful to add to what Marion had said, except for regaling her with some stories of old Harry Rawlins, who had been a frequent visitor to the pub. Only one of them remembered Michael’s brother, Stillman. All he was able to say was that Stillman ran off, soon after his arrival from the United States. The police never found him and Harry had remained worried for Stillman until the day he died. Amanda asked the men if anyone else around the town had been close to the Rawlins, and were still alive. Amazingly, she discovered that Ranelle’s mother was still alive. The old lady was in her nineties now and she lived in a nursing home in Hervey Bay, near Maryborough.
After her evening meal, Amanda retired to her room to rest. After lying down on the metal frame single bed in the small bare cube, she looked up at the dusty old tongue and groove ceiling that was sorely in need of a fresh coat of paint. Contemplating her next move, Amanda thought about what supplies she might require for her evenings work. She mentally cataloged the things she’d brought with her as she lay there. Confident she had everything she would need, she closed her eyes. She had a busy night ahead of her and a catnap was a good idea.
*****
Charlie was watching an old movie and despondently eating a microwave meal when her phone rang.
“Hi Darren,” Charlie answered, after seeing his number on her display.
“Guess what?” Darren said, in the voice he reserved for very special news.
“Something to do with Michael Rawlins?” Charlie said, unsurprised.
“You knew!” Darren accused, sounding unhappy his surprise had been ruined.
“Yup,” Charlie replied smugly. “But I don’t know any details, so what’s the go? Did they arrest him?”
Sounding glad he could still impart some news, Darren filled her in on the police search the day before, explaining what they had on him.
“They took all the computers and electronic devices, which is odd for a suspected vehicle tampering,” Darren finished. “You’d think they’d take tools for that.”
“Did he seem concerned about them taking the computers?” Charlie asked.
“Not really, he was busy having a meltdown. I’m not sure it even sank in that they took the computers.”
“Meltdown?”
“He went pale and kind of shut down, right after I told him the police know his true identity. He was pretty upset before that, but after that, well, I actually thought he was having a heart attack.”
“That’s really sad. I wonder if he felt exposed or if there’s more to it?” Charlie mused. Then she asked, “Do you know Middleton?”
“Yes. She’s OK. She didn’t have to say anything to me but she gave me the basics. She won’t play games, but on the other hand, she won’t hesitate to act if she thinks she’s got enough. We won’t get many breaks from her.”
“Anything else?” Charlie asked.
“Nothing unusual. They wanted to interview him, but I said no.”
“If they find anything on those computers, they’ll arrest him.” Charlie remarked.
“They’ll arrest him the moment they find out about the mistress.” Darren chuckled.
“Yes, that’s true. Well, I guess we just have to wait and see.” Charlie replied. She added, “Do you think he’s trying to kill his wife?”
“He just doesn’t strike me as the type, to be honest,” Darren replied. “But then again, I’ve been surprised before. I really don’t think he was acting yesterday, though. He was genuinely disturbed by the police search.”
“I guess, with his past, that sort of thing would be disturbing to him.” Charlie speculated.
“I know what you mean. That sort of violence can really change people, especially kids. But when I think about it objectively, he doesn’t really need her insurance money, not with the Charlton fortune.”
“I agree. I don’t think his desire to keep his wife from his fortune or his other assets is actually motivated by money,” Charlie theorized. “I don’t really understand it, but I think it could have something to do with the way he feels about his past. Your description of his reaction yesterday makes me think he just can’t cope with things from the past being disturbed. I don’t really know, though. I’m just throwing ideas around.”
Darren replied, “It’s a weird one, all right.”
Ending the call, she reflected that at least Phoebe was safe. Roman had sent her a terse text yesterday, advising that Phoebe was with him and Mark for the time being.
*****
Hiding her car carefully in a convenient roadside copse, Amanda slid from the drivers seat, slung her backpack over her shoulder and then walked quietly along the road and down the drive to the old Rawlins place. Moving circumspectly through the dark night she stepped softly up onto the back verandah, near the rear entrance to the kitchen. It had an old fashioned door, with the top section separated into glass quarter panes. Using a pillowcase from the pub to muffle the noise of the glass breaking, she elbowed a small pane. She reached in and down and undid the latch, being careful not to cut her arm on any shards. Dad would be so upset with me if he knew I was breaking and entering.
She carefully closed the door behind her, trying to not make too much noise by crunching her shoes on the glass shards. The nearest neighbor was at least a kilometer away, but it was one of those utterly still Queensland nights, where sound travels and moisture hangs in the air. Amanda was not sure if she was sweating from the humidity or the stress of performing a criminal act. The dark clothing she wore, fully covering all of her extremities and the gloves and head covering were also contributing to her discomfort. She could not afford to leave any fingerprints or stray hairs behind, so she didn’t dare remove anything. She was hopeful the locals would just put the break-in down to some kids up to mischief again.
She took some time just standing and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness inside. She also listened for any movement in case the neighbors had heard something. Soon her eyes adjusted and she could clearly see the old kitchen benches and the doorway opposite. She was careful not to bump into anything as she made her way through the old house. She had a small narrow-beam torch, but was loath to use it until she had to. Any light would be easily seen across the flat green expanse, especially if it was moving about.
Eerily quiet, the old house felt intensely uncomfortable. Shrugging off her unease she made her way to the bedrooms upstairs. She examined them with the torch. They were entirely unremarkable. There was a desk in one of the rooms, probably Michael’s, yielding nothing.
After a careful examination of the tongue and groove ceilings, she found the pull-down ladder to the attic storage space in the hall. The loud creak it made when she released it startled her. Heart racing, she paused until she settled down, again listening for any other noises. Hearing nothing, she gingerly climbed up, trying hard not to cough from all the dust she was disturbing.
The small attic space was windowless, but typical of homes of that era, it did have some wide ventilation vents. As she shone the torch around, she saw many old packing crates. It would take a while to look through them all. She un-shouldered her backpack and took out a couple of canvas drop sheets and some tape. Efficiently, she covered up the ventilation vents, ensuring no light would escape. After setting up a hurricane lamp she set to work meticulously going through each box.
An hour of diligent searching revealed very little. There was lot of old Rawlins memorabilia from generations past, but nothing that related to Michael or the Charltons. Eventually, when she was up to one of the last boxes, she came across what looked like the personal belongings of a younger girl.
Amanda picked up a small pink journal, with a little lock on the cover. It was sim
ilar to something she had been given when she was young. As she looked through the other things in the box, she heard the unmistakable crunch of tires on gravel. After quickly dousing the light, she shoved it and the journal into her backpack and descended, not bothering to close the creaky pull-down. When she made it to the ground floor, she heard footsteps on the verandah and ducked into the lounge, staying as still as possible behind the lounge-room door.
Whoever it was discovered the broken windowpane. The footfalls initially crunched some glass before becoming much softer and closer. The person crept into the downstairs hall and was standing there, listening, only a few feet from the lounge. Amanda’s heart was thumping. It was beating so loudly that she thought anyone nearby would hear it. Her panic rose. She ruthlessly stifled it, knowing she had to keep a cool head. At best, it was the local police or a neighbor and she would be in trouble. At worst, it was the man who had tried to kill Phoebe.
Frozen, she waited for what felt like forever. Finally, she detected soft footfalls slowly creeping up the stairs. Taking her chance, she slipped soundlessly out of the lounge, just in time to see a heavyset man in a balaclava at the top of the stairs, his back to her. Crushing her panic induced urge to bolt, she quietly and slowly crept back out through the kitchen and off the verandah without stepping on any glass. Once outside and past the gravel, she ran for all she was worth.
She noticed a late series BMW parked near the large rear shed. After trying to memorize the number plate details, she ran the lengthy distance back to where her car was hidden, repeating the details in her head as a mantra over and over again, not daring to think of anything else until she felt safe again.
*****
Sally Middleton replied into her mobile phone, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, there’s no doubt. The iPad you gave us from the Rawlins search was the controlling device for the Volvo’s computer.” The police forensic expert replied in a dry voice, annoyed at being asked to verify his information. He added, “I’ll have a preliminary report sent off to you sometime today. You’ll have to wait for the final report.”
Ending the call, Sally rubbed her hands together in satisfaction. Got him! Standing up, she sang out to Phillips, “Come on, let’s go and arrest Rawlins.”
Phillips grabbed his jacket and accompanied her to their vehicle, a broad smile on his face. As he folded his tall heavy frame into the drivers seat he asked, “Forensics?”
“Yup. The iPad we found in his bedside table.”
“He must be a serious geek to know how to hack a car computer,” Phillips commented.
“We’ll have to find out about that, too.”
“Whole thing’s a bit weird.” Phillips remarked as they drove off toward the head office of Michael’s company, ShelfSeam.
“Yeah, I get that feeling too,” Sally said.
“I mean he doesn’t need the money, you know?” Phillips pondered.
“What’s the bet we find another woman?” Sally said.
“Yeah, you’re right. If it’s not money, it’s got to be sex.”
*****
“I thought I was going to die, my heart was beating so fast!” Amanda exclaimed, telling Charlie about the previous evening. “After that, I drove all the way back to Brisbane and got here just in time to get stuck in the morning peak traffic,” Amanda rolled her tired eyes.
Dark circles ringed Amanda’s eyes. She had arrived at work that morning, still wearing her black clothing from the night before. After arranging for the temp to come back for the day she met with Charlie. When she was finished with Charlie, Amanda fully intended to go home and get the sleep she’d missed out on.
Charlie shook her head at Amanda, “Why the hell did you put yourself in such a position?” She growled, “I asked you to investigate, not break the law!”
“I was just following my instincts.” Amanda retorted, “And I was right!”
Amanda handed over the little pink journal, the lock now open.
Charlie picked up the journal curiously and leafed through the pages, examining the childish handwriting. The name Honore Charlton was inscribed inside the cover.
“Looks like she was being sexually abused,” Amanda stated grimly.
Charlie’s eyebrows rose, “By whom?”
“She doesn’t say, but surely it had to be the father, given what happened?” Amanda replied, “He forced her to keep it a secret. He even killed a kitten her mother had given her, telling her he’d do the same to her little brother if she revealed their secret. It’s clear she believed him. And she really loved her little brother.”
Charlie shook her head sadly, “I wish this sort of horror wasn’t so bloody common,” she reflected.
Amanda nodded grimly, “The poor child. She describes a time when his big hands covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream, but then she couldn’t breathe.”
Charlie looked angry, and said, “It fits with the rest of the violence. Men who murder their families are often exercising the ultimate power and control. Sexual abuse is sometimes about power and control too.” Charlie shuddered, “What a fucking awful situation. I wonder if Michael Rawlins knows about any of this?”
Amanda nodded thoughtfully, “I don’t know. But what has all this turned him into?”
Charlie’s face revealed that she had been thinking along the same lines.
Sighing, Charlie asked, “What else did you discover?”
Amanda filled her in on what she had learned from the librarian and the men in the public bar.
Charlie nodded in agreement when Amanda told her of her plans to go up to Hervey Bay to see if she could find Ranelle Rawlin’s mother.
“Good idea. You may as well tell that temp to stay until further notice.” Charlie instructed. “Now what are we going to do about the man at the Rawlins’ place?”
Amanda frowned, “I don’t want to fess up to my Dad and ask him to check the number plates.”
Charlie nodded again, saying, “He’d kill you! He’d think I’ve put you up to all of this. And what if he gets in trouble again? Or worse, pressures you to stop working for me?”
Amanda nodded tiredly, “That’s what I was thinking. All the other police I know would tell him if I asked them. They’re all Dad’s mates.”
Charlie said, “Write down the registration details and I’ll get Darren to pull a favor from one of the less scrupulous police he knows. He’s always plying them with wine and food, surely one of them will help out?”
Amanda wrote the details on a sticky note and passed it over to Charlie, getting up to leave. Before she reached the doorway, Charlie said, “Do you think the man knew you were going to be there? Or was it just random?”
Amanda shrugged and replied, “Maybe we’ll find out when we know who he is?”
She didn’t want to believe there could be a murderous man out there who knew who she was and what she was up to.
*****
Michael walked, his head hung low, out of the foyer of the main office of his company with Phillips’ meaty hand on his shoulder. At the police car, Phillips placed his other hand on his head, forcing him to duck down as he shoved Michael into the back seat.
Sally had decided not to handcuff Michael in front of his colleagues. Instead she warned him that if he tried to run things would go badly for him. As she looked at him she thought, I needn’t have bothered with the warning. Rawlins looked utterly defeated.
It took a little while to process him at the station. Sally flipped through the information in his mobile telephone, examining his calls and texts, as she waited. When she came across some extremely sexually explicit pictures in a multimedia message, Sally checked the number against Michael’s call log. It was listed under the name Marita. After beckoning Phillips over, she showed him the pictures.
“Not bad!” he said grinning and reaching to take the phone from her for a closer look.
“Mind on the job!” She chided him, letting him take the phone nonetheless.
“Looks l
ike we’ve found the mistress,” He replied, angling the phone and eyeing the pictures, “Nice camera angle there, right at her…”
She cut him off, “Can you follow it up?”
“With pleasure,” he leered.
*****
Darren sat in the small interview room at the police station with Michael. “Michael, you really need to pull yourself together,” Darren said, concerned.
Michael nodded, clearly struggling not to cry.
“You can’t get bail from a Magistrate on this charge. It has to go to the Supreme Court. You’ll be locked up for a couple of days over the weekend, until Charlie can make an urgent bail application on Monday. Understand?”
“We’re going to have to post a surety and agree to strict conditions if you get bail. It might even be a bit like home arrest, understand?”
Michael nodded again.
“You won’t be able to contact your wife at all, and you won’t be able to leave Brisbane.”
“What about my job?” Michael moaned.
“I’m sorry, but you have bigger problems than that right now.”
Michael looked horrified.
Darren carefully said, “They found an iPad at your place. They say it was used to control Phoebe’s car, causing her to go into that intersection.”
Darren thought, either he’s a very good actor or he’s genuinely surprised, as he watched Michael react to the news.
“Is there anything on your phone that will lead them to your mistress?” Darren asked.
Michael blushed, “Some pictures and texts. I forgot to delete them.”
Darren thought, Bugger! I was hoping it’d take them a while to find her, that’s going make getting bail even harder.
Aloud he said, “Never mind. They would have found her sooner or later.”
Michael looked at him, pleading, “Please get me out of here. I can’t stand being locked in small spaces. Ever since I was little…”