‘Why do you think?’ Mrs Quarterman folded her arms and tucked in her chin. ‘I should have just left him lying there. I knew the minute I moved here and spotted him over the road there, that he meant trouble.’
‘Has he ever done anything to make you think he actually is a kid-fucker, Mrs Quarterman?’ Noah said with a straight face.
She physically recoiled. Stabbed at her glasses with her index finger and blushed from her neck upwards. ‘Well, yes,’ she stammered. ‘As I’ve already told you, he wanders the streets at all hours. And he is rather an unusual type . . . He’d much prefer to walk straight past a person than say hello. Keeps himself to himself, if you know what I mean. Gawd knows what goes on behind those closed doors,’ she said with a disgusted shake of her head.
‘Have you seen anyone hanging around, or creating a nuisance as they pass this way?’
‘I just keep my doors and windows locked at night. I don’t even look out through the window. It’s not worth it.’ She gave a vicious stare over the top of her glasses.
‘Thanks. You’ve been most helpful as usual, Mrs Quarterman,’ Noah said with a cursory wave as they headed across the road. ‘I wouldn’t like to meet her late at night,’ he muttered to Laura out the side of his mouth.
The workmen nodded and swept the coloured water from the front door as Laura and Noah picked their way across the verandah amid the metallic smell of wet concrete.
‘What do you want?’ Roger said when he opened the door, his forehead knotting into a tight frown on noticing his front yard flooded with pink water.
‘We’ve come to see how you are,’ Laura said. ‘And to ask you some questions about new developments regarding Alex’s attack.’
Roger rubbed the back of his head and stepped aside for them to enter.
Laura placed her clasped hands on the table in the light-filled kitchen. ‘We’re glad to see you’re okay, Roger. Does it hurt?’ she said, referring to his swollen face and bruised eyes, the sutured gash along the side of his nose. ‘Did they take X-rays at the hospital?’
Roger nodded. ‘I don’t know who did this. The worse thing is what they wrote on my house. It’s not fair to do that when it’s not true.’
‘I’m so sorry this has happened, Roger,’ Laura said, sensing Noah’s mounting agitation. ‘Alex Holt has remembered something about her attack and it’s very puzzling.’ She paused. ‘She said she remembers someone standing over her, holding a balaclava. She thinks it was you.’
‘Yes, that’s right. I found her. I’m glad she remembers. Now she might believe me when I say I’m protecting her,’ he said.
Clearing his throat, Noah sat to his full height. ‘Roger, I am obliged to advise you that you do not have to answer the questions we are about to ask, and that if you do, your answers may be used as evidence against you. You also have the right to have another person present if you wish.’
Roger looked Noah directly in the eye. ‘Why are you telling me that? You didn’t say that last time.’
‘We’re here to formally interview you this time, Roger. And I’ll be recording what you say,’ Noah told him, slipping the small hand-held video recorder from its leather cover for Roger’s inspection.
He shrugged. ‘I don’t like cameras, but I don’t care if it helps catch Alex’s attacker.’
Noah leaned forward. ‘We need to be certain you understand that we’re questioning you as a person of interest. That’s why I must warn you first that you don’t have to answer, because your answers may be used as evidence against you. Do you understand that?’
‘Of course I do. But there’s nothing I can say to incriminate myself because I always tell the truth.’
Noah gave Laura a look that said ‘Do you think he understands?’
She nodded.
Aiming the camera at Roger, Noah gave a formal introduction to the interview, concluding with the date.
Taking the cue, Laura repeated the questions she had asked Roger so far and said, ‘Please tell us what happened before you found Alex.’
Roger pointed briefly towards his computer against the wall. ‘I was working over there. It was time for my two-hour break and I knew Alex would be coming home from the store so I wanted to see that she arrived home safely.’ His dark eyes darted to Noah. He lifted one large hand from the table like a cop stopping traffic. ‘It’s OK,’ he tilted his head to peer around the camera, ‘I don’t let Alex see me, so I’m not frightening her.’
‘So did you see her come home that night?’ Laura said.
‘No. I realised I was running late, so I ran down the lane instead of walking. I didn’t expect to see her there, I expected to see her turn off Davis Avenue and walk into her house like always. But she was there in the lane, lying on the ground.’
‘What did you do then?’ Laura asked.
‘I crept up to her. I thought she was dead.’
‘What did you see when you crept up to her?’
Roger rubbed the back of his head, his leg bouncing vigorously on the ball of his foot. ‘She was lying there with her eyes closed. Her jeans and her undies were on the ground.’ He looked to the side, then back at Laura again. ‘But I didn’t look at her. And I didn’t touch her things. I didn’t touch the needle that was there either. I picked up the woollen hat though.’
‘What did the hat look like, Roger?’ Laura said.
‘It was black and woollen.’
‘Why did you pick up the hat but nothing else?’ she said, glancing at the camera.
‘I wanted to cover Alex’s privates. I didn’t know what to do.’ He rubbed the back of his head and his face twisted. ‘I was working it out when I heard footsteps. Her dog was barking as well so I knew it was her stepfather coming. He doesn’t like me. I ran home because I didn’t want him to yell at me and push me again. It was okay to leave her because I knew her stepdad would look after her,’ he said.
Glancing over at Noah’s concentrated frown behind the camera, Laura gave careful thought to how she should phrase the next question. ‘When we interviewed you the first time, you told us you saw nothing unusual in the lane. Can you explain why that answer has now changed please, Roger?’
‘I didn’t say that. You asked me if I heard anyone scream. And I didn’t. And you asked if I saw anyone coming or going from the laneway. And I didn’t.’
Leaning forward, Laura said gently, ‘But you must have seen someone, Roger. If what you say is true you probably disturbed Alex’s attacker. You would have seen him pass you in the lane or run the other way.’
Roger stared down at the table’s surface. ‘I didn’t see anyone. He probably heard me coming and ran the other way before I got there.’
Noah sat back in his chair, the camera still steady in his hand.
‘We’d like to take the balaclava with us – I mean, the woollen hat. Can you get it for us please, Roger?’ Laura said.
He shook his head. ‘I haven’t got it. I threw it over the fence when I ran home.’
‘Where did you throw it?’ Laura said.
‘Over the fence . . . I can’t remember exactly. In the lane, when I was running away. I didn’t want to get into trouble.’
Laura glanced at Noah. ‘Would you mind coming with us now and showing us where you threw the woollen hat?’
Laura sensed Noah was about to explode, jiggling coins furiously in his pocket as they all clomped along the passage and out the front door, picking their way through the puddles across the verandah, the gentle whirring of the camera still audible in the open air.
‘Mrs Quarterman always watches me through the curtain when I come out of my house,’ Roger told Laura, his voice returning to the familiar monotone.
‘She watches us too,’ Laura replied, smiling and resisting the urge to glance up at the bungalow’s front window.
‘She’s a very nosey person. I just ignore her,’ he said.
Noah aimed the camera at Laura and Roger, who led the way into
the lane.
‘Tell us where you found Alex, please Roger,’ Laura said.
He pointed ahead, as they increased their pace towards the opposite end of the lane.
‘Here,’ Roger said when they arrived at the spot Laura and Noah knew as the site where Alex had been discovered unconscious by Greg Shepherd and Bruno. In contradiction to the gloomy darkness in the rest of the lane, the streetlamp this end was close enough to cast sufficient light to corroborate Roger’s account of what he saw when he found Alex.
‘What did you do when you saw Alex lying here?’ Laura asked.
Roger peered intently at the ground and frowned, causing Laura to wonder what was going through his mind.
He lifted his head. ‘When I told you I didn’t see anyone come in or out of the lane . . . well, I didn’t see Alex’s stepfather and Bruno come into the lane because I was running the other way. OK?’
‘That’s OK, Roger. We get that. So exactly what did you do when you heard Greg and Bruno coming?’ Laura said.
‘I ran back home.’ He turned and pointed.
They started to walk back the way they had come.
‘OK,’ Laura said, ‘where did you throw the balaclava – the woollen hat.’
‘I thought it was a woollen hat, but it could have been a balaclava. I threw it while I was running. I can’t remember where.’
‘Which side of the lane did you throw it?’ Laura said.
‘I don’t know,’ Roger said, rubbing the back of his head.
‘Are you left-handed or right-handed?’ Noah snapped from behind the camera.
‘Right-handed. You don’t need to be rude,’ Roger said. ‘I’m telling you everything I know.’
‘You will need to make a formal statement,’ Laura told Roger later, as they all stood at the front of his house, the workmen still scrubbing and sweeping in the background. ’That’s when we’ll put everything you’ve told us in writing.’
‘Why do you have to do that?’
‘Because everything you said is evidence. It needs to be written down and you need to sign it as a correct record.’
‘But do you think I attacked Alex?’
Laura sighed. ‘We take statements from lots of people, Roger, not just from people we think have committed a crime.’
‘But do you think I did it?’
‘Our investigation is not yet complete. We need a DNA sample from you and we need to find the balaclava,’ Laura said.
‘Why do you need DNA from me if you don’t think I did it?’ Roger said.
Laura ignored Noah’s eye-rolling. ‘If we find DNA on the balaclava and it doesn’t match your DNA, then we know it wasn’t you,’ she said.
Potted hydrangeas either side of Mrs Quarterman’s front door formed perfect spheres of green and blue. To Laura’s surprise they were not artificial.
‘Yes, officers?’ Mrs Quarterman said, appearing at the door mere seconds after Noah had knocked and frowning at Laura man-handling her hydrangea.
‘Our forensics people will be searching your garden for evidence, Mrs Quarterman. It would be appreciated if you could avoid going near your eastern fence until they have finished,’ Noah said, pointing to the fence between her property and the lane.
‘Of course, detective. What will they be looking for?’
‘A balaclava possibly linked to Alex Holt’s attack.’
‘Oh,’ she rasped, pressing pudgy speckled fingers against downturned lips.
‘You haven’t found a black woollen balaclava in your garden by any chance, have you?’ Noah said.
‘No. But I’d like to get in there and clean it out before they come. I haven’t touched that bed in weeks. I’d hate them to think—’
‘No, please don’t do that, Mrs Quarterman. You could be tainting evidence.’ Noah studied her expression. ‘It’s very important that you don’t go near that garden. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, of course I understand. I knew Roger Grenfell had something to do with all this. He threw it over the fence, didn’t he?’ she said, poking at her glasses. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to drive off and just leave him there in his house? Shouldn’t he be in jail or something?’
As they wandered across Mrs Quarterman’s lawn, Laura noticed Roger was chatting with one of the workmen on his verandah, rubbing the back of his head and nodding with self-conscious politeness. ‘Roger and Greg must have missed seeing the perp by a hair’s breadth,’ she said. ‘I can’t help thinking the perp must have been frightened off by Roger, that he then ran from the lane and hid as Greg and Bruno rushed past.’
‘Yes. Or else there was no fourth person present at all that night. Meaning Roger was the attacker. Or Greg.’ Noah made a face at her before glancing up at the sky. ‘Lucky thing is that we haven’t had much rain. Still, a great deal can happen in two weeks. Let’s hope we find the balaclava and that there’s still some reliable DNA present.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The last thing Maddi wanted as she dragged her feet along the marble pavers to the front door was Celine Dion shouting ‘All By Myself’ across the neighbourhood. Maddi knew this was a sign her mother was home earlier than usual and was likely to be in a very good mood. Jayne Sterling invariably slipped Celine Dion’s entire collection into the sound system whenever she felt upbeat. Maddi’s view had always been that this was her mother’s way of bringing herself down again – striving for equilibrium.
‘Hi Madeline, darling,’ Jayne screeched from the kitchen, rivalling Celine as Maddi stepped in through the front door.
‘You’re home early,’ Maddi said, eyeing off her mother’s dazzling white Capri pants.
‘Yes. It’s such a gorgeous day, and I left home before daylight this morning to attend a meeting, which turned out to be a waste of time anyway . . . so I decided at two thirty that I was going to take the rest of the day off – and here I am.’ She smiled, stabbing at the sound system with a long vermillion fingernail, bringing a brutal end to Celine’s musical climax. ‘I’ve made you a snack,’ she said, withdrawing a plate from the refrigerator and sliding it onto the kitchen bench. ‘Oh, and I’ll get you some juice.’
‘No thanks, Mum,’ Maddi said, peering at the towering club sandwich. After Alex’s flashback on the phone last night, Maddi had been unable to finish her homework. And she hadn’t slept for most of the night, her guts churning like cream cheese in a vat. In fact they had been churning all day, whenever she thought of how many times they had passed Roger’s house, how she’d spoken to him with less than centimetres separating them. And how she’d been certain he was a good guy, and that despite his differences, would never hurt anyone, especially not Alex. No, her guts were a mess. She didn’t feel like eating right now, but she picked up the sandwich anyway and took a small bite since her mother had gone to the trouble of making it. Another reason she hadn’t slept was that she’d finally faced the fact that it was time for her to tell her parents everything she knew, and probably be banned from ever visiting Alex again.
‘Did you get to school on time today?’ her mother said, sitting on a stool opposite, picking up the remaining half of the club sandwich and nibbling at the crust. ‘I couldn’t believe it when your father told me he’d left you sleeping this morning.’ She studied Maddi’s face and swallowed. ‘You look tired, darling. Are you OK?’
Maddi placed her sandwich back on the plate and brushed her hands together. ‘Alex told me something last night that made me feel sick.’ She hoped she wouldn’t have to explain further, but the moment the horrified frown appeared on her mother’s smooth forehead she knew that had been a futile wish.
‘What?’ Jayne rasped, her brown eyes widening.
Maddi gazed out the kitchen window. ‘Alex had another flashback. She said she saw Roger Grenfell standing over her while she was lying on the ground after the attack, and he was holding a balaclava.’
Jayne’s hand flew to her face. ‘Oh my God, Madeline. Has Alex told the p
olice?’
‘Yes. Her mum rang them.’
‘And . . . ?’ Jayne said, her eyes widening even further.
‘I don’t know, Mum. I guess the police are investigating it.’
Maddi picked up the sandwich again, more as a diversion than from hunger. She took a bite and chewed half-heartedly.
‘You seem so flat, Madeline. There’s something else. What is it?’ Jayne made the sudden face that overtook her whenever inspiration struck. She grabbed up her mobile phone and scrolled furiously through the calendar. ‘It can’t be your periods. They’re not due yet,’ she announced, tossing the phone back onto the bench. ‘Darling, please tell me what’s bothering you.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ Maddi said, swallowing her tears. Alex is my friend and I really like her. But . . .’
‘But what, darling? Tell me.’ Jayne rose from her chair and filled the electric kettle at the sink, glancing over her shoulder at Maddi the entire time.
‘She’s got this . . . this sort of thing about Mr Fuller. It’s embarrassing. The way she goes on is worse than the mothers, like, all girly and pathetic whenever he’s around. The police told him he had to stop talking to her after class, so he told her he’s really angry and disappointed in her and has stopped talking to her altogether. But the more he ignores her the more she chases after him. Chemistry lesson was hideous today. Alex called out the answer to every question Fullavit asked – like, I expected she would throw herself at his feet any minute. All the other kids think it’s weird as well, but Alex won’t listen. She thinks they’re just jealous.’
Jayne made a cup of tea and sat down, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. ‘Thank you for telling me, Madeline darling. I hate to think you’ve been carrying this by yourself. It’s eating you up inside.’
Maddi watched her mother sip her tea and place it down again. ‘I have to tell you something too. When Alex had that turn on the footpath the other weekend – you know when you both saw Mr Fuller, I rang Laura Nesci.’
‘I know. Alex told me. You totally betrayed my trust, Mum.’
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