“Can’t really do it at night. Where would his laptop be?”
“Where would his home office be?” Davie walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Grabbed a beer. “Probably downstairs here, right?” He twisted off the cap and tossed it in the garbage. “I’ll take the back area of the house. You take the front.”
Nick threw him a mock salute and moved into the lounge area. There were a large flatscreen TV, Apple TV box, Blu-ray player and a stack of remotes. Nice black leather furniture. Glass and chrome coffee table and side tables.
No sign of a laptop or desktop computer.
He checked in with Davie. “Any luck?”
“Nothing in the kitchen or laundry room, unsurprisingly. Upstairs?”
Nick checked his watch. “Yeah, we’ve got tonnes of time.” He led the way up the stairs. Bathroom at the top of the stairs, two bedrooms off to the right and one to the left. Nick pointed to the left. “That’s probably the office.”
The front door opened. “Brent? Are you here? The door was unlocked.” It was a woman’s voice. “Brent? Honey?”
Nick pushed Davie into the office and quietly closed the door. “Shit,” he whispered. “Forgot about the wife.”
“Found both of their laptops. Both of them are Macs. This’ll take about ten minutes.”
“Get started. I’ll keep an ear.”
Davie opened the first laptop, stuck the thumb drive in the USB port and performed a hard start on the machine. “Shit. The start-up sound.” He took off his shirt and bundled it over the MacBook speakers. The start-up chime was muffled, but still audible. “You think she heard that?”
“Keep going,” whispered Nick.
* * *
Sally Slokow walked slowly through her lounge room. Nothing was taken. Nothing seemed out of place. But something felt different. She slid her phone out of her back pocket and called her husband. “Hey, did you come by this morning?”
“What? I’m heading to meeting. Don’t have a lot of time to talk.”
“You left before me this morning. I left last. Could swear on a stack of bibles I locked up. But I forgot to set the alarm. Just came by to set it and the front door was unlocked.”
“Anything missing?”
“No. That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Seriously, I’ve got to run. You must have forgotten when you left. Like you forgot the alarm.” He sighed. “If nothing is missing we’ll talk about it tonight, okay?”
* * *
Nick was out of the home office and up against the wall near the stairs, listening.
“Nothing is missing from the lounge room, but I haven’t looked upstairs yet,” she said. She sounded closer. Like the bottom of the stairs.
Nick treaded carefully along the edge of the hallway back into the home office. He gently closed the door. “Time?”
“Almost done with the second one,” whispered Davie. “What’s happening?”
“Missus is a bit suss about whether someone is in here.”
“Astute lady.”
“Yeah. We’re about to be busted.” Nick moved the curtain aside and peered out the window. It looked over the front of the house. And the porch roof over the front door. He opened the latch on the top of the sash window. “Hope this is quiet.” He pushed the window open. Quietly. A light breeze ruffled the curtain. “Ready?”
Sally’s voice was getting closer. “Honey, I’m going upstairs.” A tread creaked as she took the first step up, then she paused.. “You’re nuts. There’s nobody here now.” She continued ascending the stairs. “I’d be able to feel them. There’s nobody here.” She reached the top.
Davie ejected the thumb drive. “Go.”
Nick stepped out onto the porch roof and moved out of the way as Davie struggled through.
He reached past his friend to pull the curtain closed and lowered the window. The door opened just as the window closed. “Get down.”
He lay on his stomach on one side of the porch’s peak and Davie on the other. His friend had a huge grin on his face. “Having fun?” Nick whispered.
“Fuckin’ A.” Davie looked down at the street. “How long do we stay here?”
“She’ll leave in a minute.”
“She’s going to set the alarm.”
Nick chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “Shit.” He looked over his shoulder down the slope of the porch roof. “How high up are we?”
“Leg breaking height, with my luck.”
They heard the front door open, then close and a key turn in the lock. Nick looked at Davie over the roof peak and held his finger to his lips.
Her heels clacked down the walk as she talked unintelligibly on her mobile phone. The ‘beeoopoop’ of her car unlocking was followed by the engine starting and the car driving away.
Davie pulled himself up and leaned his arms over the peak. “Now what, mate? We’re trapped.”
“Maybe,” said Nick. He slid to the eaves and slowly pushed himself to his knees. A gum tree with spreading branches looked tempting, but just a smidge too far for a safe jump. The rain spout ran down the side of the building, connecting to the spout from the eaves. He tested its rigidity.
“Don’t bother, mate. It probably won’t hold you and def won’t hold me.” Davie pivoted on the peak and crabbed down beside his friend. He pointed at the wall. “That latticework. It looks pretty sturdy. Give it a tug.”
Nick stood, balancing himself with the downspout from the top of the house and leaned out and grabbed the wooden frame. “Feels solid.”
“You won’t know until you test it.”
Nick looked back at him and smiled. “You’re an arsehole.” He gave the latticework another firm tug, then swung out over the garden, grabbed lattice with his other hand and scrambled for a toehold or two.
“Looks like you’ll make it. Hurry. We’re a bit exposed.”
He grunted and picked his way down the latticework until he was close to the ground. He jumped to the grass. “Let’s go.”
The lattice work shook as Davie descended, pulling away from the house just as he jumped the last metre. He hit the ground and rolled, ending up on his back.
“You okay?”
“Did that look cool or no?”
Nick grimaced and shook his head. “Not even close. Let’s get the hell out of here.” He reached out his hand and helped his friend up. “Enough shit for one day.” He turned and came face to chest of who he had to assume was a concerned neighbour.
“Who are you guys?”
Davie stepped forward, smile on his face and hand extended. “D and N Gutter Cleaning. Just finishing off here.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Ladder fell in the backyard and the gate is locked. We’ll return to retrieve it when the family comes home. Can we interest you in a discounted ‘neighbours’ quote to clean yours?”
The neighbour looked down at Davie’s hand, confusion on his face. “Where’s your truck?”
Davie looked at Nick, gave him a slight shrug and slowly withdrew his hand.
“Apprentice kid. Sam. Gone to get us some drinks,” said Nick. He looked around, then nudged Davie. “Give Sammo a call and tell him we’ll meet back at the office. We’ll take your car back.”
Davie nodded and pulled out his phone. “Sure thing.” He smiled at the neighbour. “We should get going. Give us a call if you want us to clean you out.”
They both quickstepped to the car. “Good improv, mate,” said Nick. He handed Davie his keys. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
* * *
Nick walked back to the pool with a fresh cup of coffee. Davie had his head buried in his screen, trolling through the information on his laptop. Or more specifically, the information on Slokow’s personal computer, remotely.
“Anything?” asked Nick. He sat at the patio table across from him. “At all?”
Davie shook his head. “Taking home around $18k a month. That’s after taxes and a healthy contribution to his and her retirement por
tfolios. Dvorak pays well. Mortgage, two of them. The house we were at and a summer home on the south coast. Car payments. Two reasonably sized credit cards, both paid off monthly.”
“And the wife?”
Davie shook his head. “Everything appears joint. There’s not a kernel of evidence that points to him involved in any financial swindling scheme.” He held up a finger. “Just a sec.”
He rattled the keyboard for a few seconds. Emails showed up on his screen. His head popped up and he looked around. “Where’s Kirra?”
“What did you find?”
Davie looked around again, then pivoted his laptop to Nick. He leaned on his elbows and interlaced his fingers, his chin resting on his thumbs.
Nick looked at his friend, then pulled the laptop closer. An email was open, from Slokow’s personal email address to Andy Goh. It was dated two days before Andy was killed. One day before Andy contacted Nick. “Shit.”
He leaned forward and read the email aloud. “Hey boss, I’ve done some looking into that cash thing you mentioned the other day. Can’t see anything definitive. Something smells off, but I can’t put my finger on it. The books look fine but you know, the gut feels off.” Nick sat up a bit straighter and pointed to the next passage on the screen. “I hesitate to say this, but if there is something going on, it has to be high in the company. Higher than me, or smarter than me. That’s a very small population. Again, I hesitate to mention this, and apologies if I’m way off base, but that very small population includes Kirra. Is she capable of this?”
Nick slowly closed the laptop. “Damn. He called her out. We need to talk to him.”
“You think he’s right?”
Nick scratched the back of his head. “Kirra is now a legit suspect. Can we even stay here?”
Davie looked at his surroundings. “It’s really nice here, mate. I think if we bug out it’ll make her suspicious.”
19
Nick was woken by yelling from the courtyard. He swung his feet to the floor as his door slowly swung open, Davie knocking lightly as he pushed.
“You awake, mate?” Davie poked his head in.
Nick raised his eyebrows and held out his hands. “Obviously. What?”
“You hear that noise?”
“Obviously. What?” He wiped his hands over his head, wincing as he hit the plaster. “I’ve got to replace this.”
“Might have to wait. They’re arresting Murphy.”
Nick groaned and stood. Pulled on his shorts and a t-shirt. “He didn’t do it.”
The yelling continued, the words more distinct.
“Git yer bloody hands off me, ya bloody bell-end,” yelled Murphy.
Nick padded out to the front door where two uniforms were attempting to corral Mike into the back seat of a marked car.
Wallace and Lin were standing to one side, watching with amusement on their faces.
Nick marched over. “What the hell?”
Wallace looked at him and closed his eyes in thought. He shook his head. “Have we met?”
Nick pointed at the two uniforms struggling with the smaller but obviously stronger Mike. “Are you guys off your nut? This is the head of security for this house.”
Wallace chuckled. “We just popped by to ask some questions, invite him down to the station for a more thorough discussion. He didn’t need to arc up like that.” He cleared his throat. “Wasn’t planning on detaining him, but can’t stand for this kind of behaviour. Stay out of our way, son. Best not get your nose in the middle of this.”
“This is bullshit.”
Lin looked at Nick’s head. “Are you okay?”
He reflexively put his hand on the plaster. “Yeah. Fine.”
“It’s seeping.”
He pulled his hand away and looked at the slime of partially congealed blood on the palm of his hand. “Shit.” He sighed and looked at Murphy being folded into the back seat. “You’re wrong with this guy. I’ve got to go replace this thing on my head.”
“You’ve known Mr Murphy for a long time?” asked Wallace.
“A couple of days. But that’s not the poi - ”
“A couple of days?” Lin shook her head. “Go replace the plaster, sir. And like my partner said, keep your nose out of it.”
The uniforms successfully wedged Murphy into the patrol car. Lin and Wallace got in their unmarked sedan and followed the patrol car off the property.
“Dammit.” Nick looked at his hand again and made his way back to the security office to patch his scalp.
* * *
Murphy was handcuffed to the rail along the edge of the table in the interrogation room. Wallace and Lin sat across from him.
Wallace flipped open a file folder and looked at the photo on top. Designed for maximum impact, it was a close up of Andy Goh’s bashed in head, malformed and bloody.
He spun the photo around and slid it across the table, expertly weighted so it stopped directly in front of Murphy’s face. “Why’d you do this to your boss?”
“Lawyer.”
Wallace looked at Lin, who shrugged.
“He said he’s on his way,” said Lin. “Might be an hour or so.”
Wallace leaned close to his partner. “But I don’t want to wait, Lin. Time is of the essence.”
She shook her head. “We can’t force him to talk.”
“He could waive his rights.” Wallace took off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. He paced, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “I could make sure he waives his rights.”
Lin chuckled. “You saw Macdonald and Goldberg trying to put him the back of their wagon?” She shook her head and chuckled again. “You’re not going to make him do anything.”
Wallace stopped pacing and sniffed. He glanced up at the camera in the corner. “Professional Responsibilities team probably wouldn’t like what I’d do to this guy anyway.” He sat.
“I’ll tell you what we know happened. If, during the course of conversation you wish to interject and set me straight with something I may have wrong, we wouldn’t stop you from talking.”
Murphy leaned forward, his weight on his elbows and his arse off his chair. “Listen you freakishly small person. This is the only time I will talk until my lawyer arrives. I was in the SAS for twenty years. I was held captive by the Iraqis for thirteen days before I escaped and walked my way out to Syria. I have seen hell you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He sat back down. “I’m very comfortable here. I didn’t kill Goh. Talk all you want.”
He sat back, as comfortable as he could be with both hands shackled to the table.
Wallace barely waited a breath. “I had no intention of cuffing you. This is on you.”
He leaned back in his chair and examined his manicured nails for a minute. “You’re head of security.” He held up his hand to forestall an answer that probably wasn’t going to come. “Head of security. Select security cameras turned off before midnight with your login credentials, and turned on again at 10:30 am, after you murdered him. The location of Mr Goh’s death is right in the middle of the blind spot created by those deactivated cameras.” He held up a finger. “You’re a pro; you’re probably wondering what we think the motive is.” He glanced at Lin. “We are still working through that, but suspect there’s a thing going on between yourself and the lovely missus.”
Murphy’s face flushed an angry red. He leaned forward, opened his mouth and — nothing. He clenched his jaw muscles, took a deep stabilising breath, and shook his head. He interlaced his fingers together and tried to stare the brain out of Wallace’s head.
Wallace’s eyes flicked to Murphy’s for a second, then back to the folder on the table between them. He turned over the page and exposed a studio shot of Kirra. “You had a thing with her, right?”
Murphy looked at his boss’s picture and shook his head slightly. And said nothing.
“I think you and she cooked this up together. You kill him, she gets his money and the two of you live happily ever after. After a respectable
period of mourning, of course.” He shrugged. “Except you’re not that smart. No alibi, cameras turned off at the perfect time.” He smiled. “Give it a couple of days and I’ll have it all mapped out. Or tell me what happened now, and save us both the hassle.”
Murphy flexed his forearms, clenched his fists, then breathed out slowly and relaxed. Paid a lot of attention to his fingernails. He leaned back in his chair.
Lin placed the plaster cast created by Dr Cuttey on the table. “The murder weapon looked like this. A crowbar, most likely. We have a team searching the Goh compound.”
“It’s not a fucking compound.”
Lin waited. “That’s all you have to say? The team is searching. I’m pretty sure we’ll find the weapon.”
Mike shook his head and took a deep breath.
“Nothing?” Wallace closed the folder. “Fine. Stay here. Your lawyer should be here in a couple of hours.”
Martin Crowe entered the interrogation room and sat beside Mike. They had the room to themselves. Both Wallace and Lin were back at their desks. “You’re in a bit of a tough bind, Mike. Your login deactivated the cameras before the killing and reactivated them after.”
“A kid could hack into the camera system. Probably did. I wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it myself, would I? First place they looked. Nothing else? No physical evidence? Did they find the weapon yet? What’s my motive?” Mike threw himself back in the seat. “Lazy cops. Is it because I’m Irish?”
“How about you take a deep, calming breath and don’t talk at all when they come back in. I’ll take it from here.”
“How deep did I bury myself.”
Marty smiled and drummed his fingers on the table. “We’ll see.”
Wallace and Lin re-entered the interrogation room.
Lin glanced at him then looked briefly at Wallace. “We believe we have sufficient evidence to make a case. It’ll be the Public Prosecutor’s decision whether they will proceed or not. Given the visibility the victim had in Australian business, and he an immigrant himself, I doubt that they’ll decline to prosecute.”
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