The Charlton Affair

by MJ Doherty

  Darren’s heart went out to him. Poor bastard, he thought. Perhaps he’s innocent after all?

  *****

  “Did you get that stuff I emailed over?” Darren said across the speakerphone to Charlie, his usual effervescence absent.

  “Yeah, I’m looking at it now.” Charlie replied as she perused the material on her screen.

  “Have you looked at the list for Monday? Who’s doing bail?” Charlie asked.

  “I checked. It’s Justice Donaldson.” Darren replied.

  Charlie was relieved, “Lucky. He’s a way better option than some. Not the most lenient, but definitely fair. If we can put together a half decent case, we might be right. OK, here’s what I want you to do,” Charlie said.

  “Hang on,” Darren said as he grabbed a pen, “OK, go.”

  “First, go back and see Michael. Find out when he purchased his iPad and what the serial number is. I want to know if they have the iPad he bought or if it’s another one. Of course the police will just say that he got another one, but at least we can throw a bit of doubt onto it. I’ll ask Amanda to do some running around for you.”

  “OK.”

  “Next, find the mistress and see if you can get an alibi for any of the times in question? Seems to me that if he lied about when he came back, chances are it’s because he was with her.”

  “I’m already onto that. I’m seeing her tonight.”

  “Good. Next, get all the usual character references together, his boss etc.”

  “Already on it. I even tried getting one from the wife, but she’s already been called as a prosecution witness.”

  Charlie nearly choked, then said as matter-of-factly as possible, “There’s no property in a witness. Do it anyway.”

  Continuing on, she said, “I want copies of the CCTV from where her car was parked at work that day. The police mention it in the material but we’ve yet to see it.”

  “OK.”

  “I want his bank account statements for the last three months and information from him about any unexplained amounts. In other words, if there are any large amounts going out of his account, they’d better be going to the mistress and no one else.”

  “I can get that today.”

  “Oh, and Darren?”

  “Yes?”

  “If you do get to speak to the wife, you should know that I know her. She’s a friend of a friend of mine, Roman Coustas, the accountant.”

  Darren replied, “Brisbane’s a small town.” Then he added, “Will there be a problem?”

  She could tell his nose for gossip was on the alert.

  Casually, she replied, “No.”

  *****

  Sally knocked on the door of the gorgeously restored old Queenslander home in New Farm. She saw a well-muscled male coming down the hall through the side pane. When he opened the door, Sally showed him her badge, explaining that she had an appointment to see Mrs. Rawlins. Mark introduced himself and led her through to the pool area. Sally made a mental note to find out more about Roman Coustas and his boyfriend Mark Mitchell.

  Phoebe sat on a lounge near the pool. The reflection from the water flashed off the leaves in the lush garden surrounding the pool. It was an idyllic setting. Phoebe reclined propped up by some extremely large and colorful cushions with a tray of refreshments next to her on a little table. Sally knew she was still recovering from the injury. Looking at the scene, she thought, talk about recovering in style.

  Sally perched on a lounge close to Phoebe and explained that she wanted to ask her some questions and tell her several things. She placed a voice recorder on the table and said that she was taping the conversation, which was her usual procedure.

  “Normally, I’d ask you to come to the station, but I know getting around is a little difficult for you at the moment,” Sally explained.

  Phoebe nodded, her expression neutral.

  “Firstly, do you mind telling me why you are staying here instead of at home in Hamilton?”

  Phoebe replied, “Michael called me just before he was supposed to pick me up from hospital and told me I’d have to come and stay with Roman. There were some people at the house and it was a mess. He didn’t want me to fall or trip over anything.”

  “I see.”

  “I know this might be hard, but can you tell me how your marriage has been going lately?”

  Phoebe looked away.

  Sally pressed, “I can see you have something to say.”

  Phoebe swallowed, “We’ve grown apart. He’s been working a lot lately. Travelling away from home.” Phoebe stopped speaking, clearly fighting back tears.

  “Yes?” Sally asked, trying to get her to continue.

  Sally knew she was holding back. Maybe the wife’s having an affair, too? Interesting.

  Phoebe remained quiet.

  Trying a different tack, Sally asked, “And what do you know about your husband’s childhood?”

  Phoebe was clearly put off by the sudden change of subject.

  She paused and then said, “He grew up in Biggenden. His parents both died ten years ago. He has no other family. He played all the usual sports and went to a Catholic boarding school when he finished primary school.”

  “Nothing from when he was a very small child?”

  “No,” Phoebe said, becoming suspicious, “Why are you asking me about this?”

  “I’m sorry to have to inform you, Mrs. Rawlins, that I arrested your husband a short time ago on several charges, including an attempt to murder you by tampering with your car.”

  Phoebe clutched her chest. Sally could see that the pain was excruciating for her. Eventually the spasm passed and then Phoebe looked up at her in complete disbelief and horror.

  Speaking with difficulty, Phoebe protested, “The man who chased me was a much bigger man than Michael. Michael was away when I had my car crash. I just don’t believe it. It can’t be him. It can’t be.”

  Sally said, “I’m sorry Mrs. Rawlins, there’s no easy way to put this, but your husband has been having an affair with another woman.”

  Watching her carefully, Sally could tell Phoebe was shocked at first and then she seemed almost relieved. Well, well, well.

  Sally said, “Mrs. Rawlins, you don’t seem, terribly…upset… about that?”

  Phoebe replied slowly, “It kind of makes sense, now. The absences, the grumpiness when he came home, the… other things.” Phoebe blushed.

  Sally could guess what she was referring to but didn’t push for more information. Instead she pulled her notebook out of her bag, saying, “I’m going to show you something that will shock you again. I’m sorry if it causes you pain.”

  Phoebe looked as though she would faint and she hadn’t even seen the document yet. Sally handed her a copy of an old newspaper article about an American family called the Charltons. After telling her to take her time and read it thoroughly, she waited.

  Phoebe eventually looked up.

  Puzzled, she said, “It’s awful, but why show it to me?”

  “Look closely at the picture of little Jefferson Junior, Mrs. Rawlins. Does he look familiar?”

  Phoebe stared hard at the black and white image. Looking up at Sally she opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Sally became alarmed when Phoebe’s eye’s rolled back and she slumped back into the lounge.

  Bloody hell! She’s fainted, Sally thought, exasperated. She stood and called out to Mark to bring a wet towel. She tried to rouse the woman without success.

  Mark arrived and dampened Phoebe’s forehead, calling her name. Soon, Phoebe came to and clutched her chest in pain.

  Sally explained the information briefly to Mark and left Phoebe in his care. She would get nothing further from her today.

  *****

  Roman simply couldn’t process what Mark was trying to explain to him. His head felt like it was going to explode. He looked at the sheet of paper Mark handed him and then at the internet page Mark brought up on his iPad. Poor Michael, he thought. Then sudd
enly he thought, no, Michael’s been cheating on Phoebe. He’s been arrested for trying to kill her! It can’t be true. Then it clicked. This is why Charlie was so keen on him having Phoebe stay with us. She must have known something wasn’t right. What a nightmare! Poor Phoebe.

  Roman gulped down the vodka and lime Mark handed to him.

  Looking at Mark, he said, “How is she?”

  “I got the doctor to come over. She gave her a sedative and now she’s sleeping. She was pretty distressed.” Mark replied, “She fainted when the police were telling her about Michael’s past.”

  Roman’s brow furrowed. Poor Phoebe. Someone was trying to kill her, but was it Michael? What if it wasn’t? The police had got it wrong before. Was she safe here with them? Were he and Mark safe?

  Not wanting to think about it anymore, Roman grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. The new channel came on and there it was, the prime story of the day. The captions moving across the bottom of the screen said it all. Brisbane man with false identity. American heir to millions, survivor of family tragedy, now arrested for trying to kill his own wife. Like father like son was another comment. The newsreaders were all over it like carrion eaters. They were dissecting the past and eagerly awaiting Michael’s application for Supreme Court bail on Monday. Roman turned the channel off in disgust.

  “What should we do?” He asked Mark.

  Mark replied, “Leave it to me, sweetie,” and kissed Roman on his furrowed brow.

  Chapter Nine

  Amanda watched the evening news, fascinated by the commentary. Her husband, John, sat on the cozy couch beside her in the lounge room of their renovated Annerley workers cottage.

  He said, “Isn’t that Charlie’s client?”

  “Yes, that’s the bloke I’ve been looking into,” Amanda replied.

  “He sure doesn’t look like a killer, almost got a baby face with those lips.”

  “I’m not sure he is a killer. There’s something funny about it,” Amanda replied, tiredly.

  She had managed to get about four hours of sleep before she had to wake up and get organized prior to John coming home from his job as a refrigeration mechanic. She didn’t want him to know she’d been awake all night. That would lead to all sorts of conflict. He hadn’t been at all happy that she had to go away overnight for work. If he knew what she was really up to he would hit the roof.

  “Why did the police arrest him then?” John asked.

  “Things really do look bad for him,” Amanda admitted. “He’s got a mistress. His wife is insured for five million and the police found a device in his house that caused the car crash his wife nearly died in.”

  “That’s more than things looking bad, love. Sound’s like the cops might have it right,” John remarked.

  “Yeah, it looks that way on the surface, but I’m not so sure. I mean he really doesn’t need the five million in insurance money. But then again, if he thought he might lose half of his fortune to his wife in a messy divorce, killing her is a better option I guess.” Amanda’s face looked puzzled, “I don’t know. I just have a feeling about it.”

  John asked grumpily, “I guess this means you might have to work this weekend?”

  Amanda was glad she hadn’t been the one to bring it up, “Actually yes, I was going to mention that Charlie might need me to do a few things this weekend.”

  John sighed, “I wish you had a normal job. But at least she always gives you days off later when you have to work weekends.”

  “Yeah, she’s a pretty good boss, honey.”

  John didn’t reply. His attention was now completely caught by the sporting news.

  Amanda quietly sent a text to Charlie, telling her she just saw the news.

  Charlie texted back immediately asking if Amanda would be OK to give her and Darren a hand this weekend? Amanda happily replied that of course it was fine. Charlie’s next text thanked her profusely and asked her to come over in the morning. Amanda texted back she would be there with coffee at eight. Moving closer to her husband, Amanda reflected how much she loved working for Charlie. She loved her husband, too, but digging up information for an urgent bail hearing was going to be much more fun than heading off down the coast fishing for a couple of days. She enjoyed fishing but it wasn’t exactly exciting, especially the part where she got to gut all the fish they caught.

  *****

  Phoebe woke with a pounding headache at 5 AM on Saturday morning. Even lifting her head was pain inducing. She gingerly reached over to the bedside table, trying not to cause too much pain, and felt around until she found some Tylenol. Despite all the heavy drugs the doctors had offered her, she found that Tylenol worked best for her pain. She had been lucky not to require surgical intervention to reset her sternum. It was more of a crack than an outright break, but her whole upper body was one massive bruise. The doctors had said the bruising might not fully resolve for several weeks. At least it was improving. It had gone from a deep blue to blotches of red and yellow in places. Strapping did not ease the pain, but it was effective in assisting her to limit and slow her movements, which helped.

  After forcing herself to sit up, she managed to get the tablets down with some water. Now the trick was to stay absolutely still for the ten minutes or so it took for the pills to take effect. She reflected on the news she received yesterday. Still in shock, she couldn’t begin to comprehend what Michael had been through as a child. It defied logic. And now he was in custody. It was truly horrible.

  She suddenly realized why he had such understanding and sympathy for her fear over her attack. Tears tracked down her cheek as the thought of him alone in a small prison cell made her choke up. She knew he was terrified of tiny spaces and prayed that wherever they had him, it was not too cramped. Her heart contracted painfully and she desperately wished she could comfort him. Why didn’t he ever tell me? She wondered if he had wanted to tell her, but just couldn’t.

  As for him being arrested, she did not and could never believe he had tried to kill her. She may not have known about his past, but she did understand his nature, and he was simply not capable of that. Nothing anyone said would ever convince her otherwise. He was not a man who was comfortable with his feelings, but he did display the desire to rescue and to nurture. He loved animals and couldn’t bear to see any person or creature in pain. As the pills started to take effect, she wondered what she could do to help Michael.

  As for his affair, she had mixed feelings. Well, I can’t really blame him for that, she thought. I’d be having an affair too, if only I could… Trying not to focus on Charlie, she reflected on how sad she was that they had been unable to approach the decline of their marriage like adults. But being honest about his internal reality was not Michael’s strong point. It may even be something he actually couldn’t do, as it might open the door to his past.

  As for her, she finally understood that one of the reasons she had been initially attracted to him was that she didn’t have to engage in a deep level of intimacy with him. They were both emotionally unavailable. She thought about her strict upbringing. About how her father hated it if his wife or daughters became emotional or got too upset. She remembered how she had cried and cried as a child when a puppy she had been given had died. Her father refused to ever let her or her sister have another pet, saying he couldn’t handle the tears.

  Michael and her had suited each other for a time, she realized, until he became sexually adventurous and his direction had changed. And so had she, just not as overtly as he had.

  She moved circumspectly out of the bed and padded carefully to her en suite. As she delicately performed her ablutions, she thought back over her marriage. Not once had Michael ever really splashed out with money. He was always careful about it. They had many nice things but they were always affordable and never out of reach for their income. She remembered the pre-nuptial agreement they signed. At the time, she had thought from a risk perspective, that it was a good idea for both of them. After all, she had been certain she woul
d make partner. That came with the possibility that her income would exceed his. Financial Agreements were the sort of thing she often advised her clients to consider. It had been her idea to get the life insurances, also.

  She wondered if the Agreement would still hold in respect of the millions he must have tucked away somewhere. Was that why he’d wanted the agreement? To keep the money he never spent safe? It’s all so strange. I don’t want his money. It’s blood money. Maybe he doesn’t want it either. He’s never touched it, as far as I’m aware. Maybe the pre-nuptial wasn’t about the money. Maybe it was about his need to keep that whole thing under a lid?

  Phoebe suddenly realized she had to start getting her mind in gear and putting her fears and problems behind her. She was not going to be able to get through the coming days or be able to help Michael at all if she kept carrying on like a victim. No more fainting, no more self-pity over Charlie and no more fear, she decided.

  *****

  Roman swanned into the living room at 10 AM after a sleep in. Phoebe was on her telephone. He noticed the change in her. She was dressed. Her hair was done and she was wearing make up. She looked ready for action.

  The news channel was playing, and Mark was nowhere to be seen. That was odd. It was usually Mark who liked to watch the news channel. Roman preferred travel and entertainment shows. After heading over to his Italian espresso machine, he set about making himself a long black.

  “Coffee, sweets?” He called out when Phoebe ended her call.

  “Thanks. That’d be great,” she replied, turning her attention to the news. Of course, Michael was the prime topic. They both watched for a moment as Darren Franks appeared, making a short statement concerning the bail hearing. One of the journalists asked who was going to appear for Michael before Justice Donaldson on Monday. Darren announced that he had briefed Ms. Charlotte Moss of Counsel to appear.