by Autumn Dawn
Camille nodded and walked to the window, scanning the street outside. Apart from the usual mid-morning shoppers and a couple of ambling tourists, it was its usual sleepy self, and certainly nothing seemed out of place. Her gaze flicked up to the house on the hill and she thought of Rowan. She glanced back at Nathan but he was talking into the phone again. She pulled out her cell phone and rang Rowan's number.
"Rowan Byrne,” her bright voice came over the line.
"Rowan, it's Camille."
"Camille! Thank heavens you called. Are you all right? Did you sort things out with Nathan? I wanted to phone you last night but Max wouldn't let me. Said I had to let the two of you work it out yourselves."
"Yeah, he's on the phone right now trying to track down Malcolm Lord. We're at the station."
"Need some company?"
"No, but thanks.” She could hear raised voices in the background and knew Rowan must be busy with her patients.
"I'm glad you decided to stay,” said Rowan. “This is where you have to fight your battle. I cast a protective spell for you and Nathan last night."
"He's coming for me, Rowan. I had another moment of clairvoyance this morning. A great vicious-looking bird. But I knew it was him."
"Yes, he'll take other forms. “Just don't get distracted by it. He's nothing more than a vessel, though.” She paused and Camille could hear a voice in the background before Rowan came back on the line. “Look, I have to go. Have you got the book I gave you?"
Camille fumbled in her bag and pulled out the little book of magicke. “Yes."
"There's a simple spell there if you need to call on the Goddess."
"But I don't...."
"As soon as I've finished here I'll be there, but just in case...."
"I'll be fine,” Camille whispered.
"You can do it. You're meant to do it.” Rowan's voice was confident. “Tell Nathan I'll be there in a while."
Camille flicked the phone closed and turned to Nathan, who was just finishing his call. He faced her.
"Traffic's got Welch's numberplate. They're keeping an eye out.” The phone rang again and he turned back to his desk. “Donnelly. Dave, thanks for calling back. Listen, mate, I need some help but it has to be discreet. Malcolm Lord. I want to know if he's in Melbourne and, if he is, I want to know if he makes any attempt to leave the city."
He listened again for long moments, nodding. “You know I wouldn't ask a favor like this unless it was critical.” He sighed. “I know you're under the kind of pressure a country cop wouldn't understand but I really need you to spare one young guy to keep an eye on Lord. He's a nasty piece. I can't give you any details but there's a kid involved. Just a few months old."
Camille chewed on her fingers as his negotiations continued for long minutes. She could see he was having trouble convincing them to divert manpower in a busy city command.
"Dave. Look this is personal as well as professional. But I'm not wrong on this one. If my gut's right it'll be all over in a couple of days and Lord will be in custody. I just don't have anything concrete at this stage."
He nodded again and sighed. “All right, mate. One day it is and we'll reassess at the close of play. Talk to you then. Thanks, mate."
He let out a long breath as he replaced the receiver, and pushed one hand sharply through his hair. He smiled as Elizabeth, watching him, tried to copy him and ended up smacking herself over the head.
"How did it go?"
"He's in a difficult position. He reports to the chief who plays golf with Lord. If the chief finds out he's got his golfing buddy under surveillance, there'll be hell to pay."
"I rang Rowan to let her know we ... were here,” she finished lamely. She had been going to say, “worked things out” but she didn't really know if it was true. They'd worked out they couldn't keep their hands off each other. They'd worked out that they were working up to trusting each other. Everything else was for the future. “She's going to drop by later."
"Okay.” Nathan logged onto his PC. “Now I want to see if I can find anything that might help us take Lord down."
Camille flicked through the little book of magicke in her hand, but she couldn't concentrate, her attention caught by Nathan's rolling screen.
He frowned as he read through the file when it popped onto his screen.
"What does it say?” Elizabeth asked anxiously, resting an elbow on his desk. “Is there anything that helps us?"
Nathan pursed his lips. “Not really. Looks like our boy has kept his sheet pretty clean, at least on the surface. There's a charge of perverting the course of justice from some years ago, but the case never went ahead. Doesn't say why, which doesn't help us."
Camille felt her hopes drop.
"Hang on.” Nathan tapped a key. “Interesting. Sydney cops claimed that he tried to buy them off over a speeding ticket. It was a while back. Again, no action was taken. Lack of evidence, though. Not much, but seems to suggest that the bloke thinks his check book is the solution to all his problems."
"Not just his check book. He uses his influence to put pressure on people.” She shivered as she looked over his shoulder at the screen which showed Lord's photo. Tall, thin and pinstriped, with the sneer that was permanently welded to his lips. His hair was as immaculately cut as his tailored suits, nothing out of place. Cold eyes.
Camille had disliked him on sight but she had to admit her acquaintance with him was brief, restricted to a brief chat at his wedding to Verity where he had seemed inordinately possessive. She remembered one young man who'd asked Verity for a dance was put down with such cruelty that she winced thinking of it.
The phone rang sharply and Nathan mouthed an apology, picking up the receiver.
"Donnelly,” he said brusquely. He listened for a minute, his posture changing, stiffening at the caller's words.
"Where exactly?” He picked up a pen and jotted down a few notes.
"All right. Tell them not to approach. Stand off until I get there. I'll be about fifteen minutes. They can head off once they see me."
He nodded again. “Thanks.” He put the phone down.
"What?” Camille could tell it was important.
"Traffic's come back with a sighting of the PI, Frank Welch. Little village off the Eden road.” He took his pistol from his drawer, checked it and got up from his chair, grabbing a jacket from behind the door on his way out.
"I'll be back as soon as I can but I want to see what Welch has to say for himself.” He paused and turned back to her, leaning down to press a swift kiss on her mouth. “Stay here, honey. I want you where I know you're safe until we know where Lord is. Just in case. If I'm held up for any reason I'll get a message to you, all right?"
Camille nodded. “Be careful,” she whispered.
"Always am.” He pivoted and went to give brief instructions to Michael Dawes and Jason Lai. The glass in the door rattled as he slammed it on the way out. Camille watched from his office as he climbed into the Landcruiser, saw him give her a wink as he turned the ignition on. Then he was roaring out of World's End, lights flashing and siren sounding, while she was stuck here waiting.
Camille felt a sharp tug on her leg and realized that Elizabeth had managed to roll toward her. She shoved the book of magicke back in her bag and picked the baby up. Elizabeth reached out toward a strand of hair that had come away from Camille's hair clip, and grasped it in her fat little fist. She grinned when she saw Camille looking at her, drool appearing spontaneously from the side of her mouth. Camille for once couldn't smile back but hugged the child close and hoped that Nathan's words to his colleague in Melbourne were prophetic.
"Let's hope things are wrapped up today,” she murmured into Elizabeth's wispy fine curls. “I want it all to be over, for both our sakes."
Chapter Thirteen
Frank Welch winced and held his cell phone away from his ear as Lord's vicious assault blasted out. The rant continued for several more seconds as Frank rolled his eyes. Customer complaints weren'
t unusual in this business. The very nature of it meant that clients started off being unhappy about something, which was why they hired him. It didn't take much to fuel their disappointment with life. Still, that didn't mean he was anybody's whipping boy, even for five hundred a day. Six hundred. He mentally corrected himself and smiled.
"Well, I tried to tell you yesterday,” he interjected when the voice at the end of the line paused. “I rang last night. Couldn't get through, mate, so I kept on doing my job, didn't I? I kept my head down for a bit, didn't want to be recognized. Took a leak and lost her, but her car was still in town. So I kept an eye on the cottage till she arrived back. Hours I watched that joint, Mr. Lord, until Ms. Aston arrived. Then the cop, Nathan Donnelly, turned up right after and they got real cozy.” He grinned as he thought about it and licked his lips. Wouldn't mind a piece of that himself, and he thought Lord had the same idea.
Lord went off again. God, the guy was mad as a cut snake. Lost it at the slightest thing. Who'd have thought he was the most sought after QC in the country. He listened for a bit longer, picking at the grime under his fingernails and rubbing it off on his pants. He was still filthy from his evening in the bush yesterday, watching the bloody Aston woman's house. Give him city jobs any day.
"Well, I couldn't see exactly what they were up to seeing as it was mostly horizontal-like. But I gathered they were playing doctors and nurses, Mr. Lord. Before he arrived, it looked like she was about to do a runner. She was packing up the car, and then he arrived and she must've changed her mind."
He held the phone slightly away from his ear as Lord began another barrage. Jesus, the guy did go on, but what the hell, he was paying six hundred a day so he could read War And Peace to him if he wanted to. It was his money. Six hundred a day meant a lot of cold cash for Frank to play with during the forthcoming horse-racing season, and that was reason enough to stick with it for the time being.
"Yeah, he runs the cop shop here in World's End but he's an experienced detective. I've got my sources in Sydney, mate. Highly thought of there."
He wriggled in his seat. Maybe he should invest in a more expensive car with a comfortable interior, especially if he took on any more intensive surveillance projects like these. Hard on the rear end.
"They're at the police station in World's End. Donnelly took Ms. Aston and the baby there this morning. They didn't look like they were leaving any time soon so I headed out of town and found a quiet spot to make this call.” He didn't want to mention that the red-haired realtor he'd tried to pump for information weeks ago had spotted his car and was making her way up the street when he'd hastily driven away. It was hard to stay incognito in a little dump like this.
Welch glanced up at the street ahead and saw the marked car. They were just watching him, but weren't approaching. He cursed under his breath and glanced behind him to see if there was a chance he could make another quick exit. He'd been sure he wouldn't be spotted, but they'd seen him anyway. Bastards. He should have cut Lord off long ago by now and been concentrating on his surroundings.
He slid the gear stick into reverse just as Donnelly's Landcruiser turned into the street behind him. He cursed more viciously this time, knowing his exit had been cut off. He turned off the motor and watched the big guy pull up in front of him and get out. He looked pissed off, too.
Donnelly nodded his head at an unmarked car across the street. The uniformed driver waved and the car moved smoothly down the street. Shit.
He stared at Nathan as he strolled toward him, belatedly realizing that Lord was still on the phone. “Listen, mate, I'm gonna have to cut this short. Donnelly is about ten feet from my car.” He paused. “Yep, he's here right now. No sign of the girl or the baby. Must be still at the cop ... at the police station. What do you want me to do?"
Frank's face went a mottled red at the reply. “Get lost is it, mate? Well, I'm in deep shit because of you.” Something short and succinct came back to him. “Well, thanks for nothing,” he spat and ended the call with his finger, thinking of something else he'd do with his finger if Lord was here to see it. The high and mighty bastard had told him the job was finished. No thanks, just bugger off. Who the hell did he think he was to treat people like that?
"You don't look a happy man, Frankie,” said Donnelly leaning a hand on the open car window. “Home truths can be unpleasant."
"What can I do for you, Officer?” Welch plastered the most obsequious smile he possessed on his face.
"What you can do is to tell me exactly what you're doing and who for?” Donnelly smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Welch gulped. This one was a hard son-of-a-bitch. He could always tell. “There's not much I can tell you, Officer. Client confidentiality precludes me discussing my cases,” he said primly. “Like all professionals."
"The only thing professional about what you do is you get paid for it.” The glint in Donnelly's eyes made Welch tremble. “I think you'd better get out of the car while we have this little chat."
Welch worried his lower lip with his teeth. At least sitting in the car there was a bit of cheap metal between him and the cop. If things got physical, he didn't like his chances with Donnelly. He was about six foot and had to weigh close to two hundred pounds. Most of it muscle. Welch could see his biceps bulge as Nathan leant his arms on the roof of the Ford. Jesus, even Schwarzenegger wouldn't be embarrassed by those.
Welch gulped again as the cop swung open the car door. He slid his backside out, coming hesitantly to his feet. Donnelly shut the car door behind him, looming over him, eyes narrowed as Welch pressed back against the car. “Now, Frankie,” Donnelly said softly, menacingly. “Tell me everything. And I mean everything."
"Um.” Welch's Adam's apple felt huge as he swallowed. He really disliked these sorts of confrontations, and wondered whether to land Lord right in the shit. It would serve the prick right, but the guy was powerful and something about the guy gave Frank the creeps. Discretion was pretty certainly the better part of valor in this case.
"Look, mate,” he said. “There's really not much I can tell you."
"Cut the crap. I want to know about Lord."
"Er, Mr. Lord is my client. He's a legal bigwig in Melbourne."
"And what exactly is your brief?” The cop pressed closer, taking all of Welch's space and forcing him to arch backward into the car.
Well, maybe he'd just give Donnelly a little, he thought. Just to give the appearance of being helpful. “Just to watch the girl and the baby,” he quavered. “That's it. Nothing bad. I don't do stuff like that. Just location and surveillance."
Frank's eyes darted frantically around. It was lunchtime, and usually small villages like this one were hives of bustling activity as people popped out for lunch or to do some grocery shopping. Suddenly, though, the street was empty. No sign of anyone who might intervene.
"For how long?"
"Long as it takes.” Welch shrugged. Now he'd thought about it, it seemed like a real good idea to cooperate with the cops, especially this one. “Anyway, it's over now. Bastard just fired me. Told me the job's finished."
He went to push past the man, who slammed him back against the car, eyes blazing. “Conversation's not over yet, mate."
Frank couldn't stop the whimper from leaving his throat. He'd never been the kind of macho guy who got into fights. From his school days, he'd been the plump, bespectacled loser who always got sand kicked in his eyes. He'd got his own back by spying on people who mocked him, and revealing their dirty little secrets where they could do most damage. That's why he'd chosen this job. Didn't have to deal with too many people, just the occasional client meeting, observe and report back.
His eyes filled with tears. It was all Lord's fault. He'd never liked the guy, and now look where the job had landed him. In a heap of shit with a cop who looked as though he might tear him limb from limb.
"Don't hurt me, okay?” he begged, holding up a hand to fend off the blow he felt sure was coming. “Just don't hit me
. I'll tell you everything I know."
Donnelly abruptly let go of him, and Welch collapsed back against the car, sobbing with mingled fear and relief that his demise wasn't as imminent as he'd believed. He watched the cop cautiously as he folded his arms across his massive chest.
"Right. Spit it out. And if I find out you've omitted anything, you'll wish you'd never been born. Understand?"
Welch nodded. It seemed safer to agree with the guy at this particular moment. “Fair enough.” He nodded. “Look, I don't know the full story but Mr. Lord's wife topped herself a few weeks back, right.” Donnelly jerked his head for Welch to continue. “He didn't tell me that but it was in the Melbourne papers. The society pages were full of it. Anyway, I got a call to meet with him so I flew from Sydney to Melbourne and took a brief for the job. That's it."
"Go on."
"That's pretty much it, mate. Mr. Lord said he wanted me to locate his daughter and Ms. Aston. He thought it was most likely they'd be in New South Wales but he wasn't sure, that's why he hired a Sydney PI. I checked her house and her business but she'd disappeared into thin air and no one seemed to have any idea where she'd gone. Finally tracked her car down to a dealership outside Canberra. She'd exchanged it for a four-wheel drive but I got the new plate, although it slowed me down a bit."
"And?"
"Mr. Lord told me to check out World's End. Apparently, Ms Aston's granny lived in the area but when I scoped it out, I found she died a few years back.” He pursed his lips, aggrieved that his client hadn't provided up-to-date information. “So I headed down here to ask around. It's easier to do it face-to-face than over the phone. People are more likely to tell you stuff when they can talk to you directly."
"So you spoke to Noelene Heggarty and a few other people?"
Welch nodded. “No one knew anything. Apart from the redhead at the real estate office, no one even knew much about her.” His voice was dismissive. “Fuckin’ wild goose chase, I thought."