by Chris Taylor
“You’ve been driving cabs for a while?”
“On and off for years. It’s okay. I like to drive around and talk to the passengers, although, most don’t want to talk to me.” He grinned. “Most people sit in the back, not saying anything. That’s city folks for you.”
Clayton smiled. “I’m from the country, mate. We don’t climb in the back. Not when there’s an empty seat in the front. It’s just the way it is.”
The driver nodded and flashed his teeth. “I spent a bit of time in the country when I was younger. I lived up north, near Maitland. I remember what it’s like.”
Clayton stuck out his hand. “I’m Clayton Munro.”
The driver paused and then briefly returned the handshake. “Lex Wilson.”
“Did you drive taxis in Maitland?” Clayton asked.
“Nah, I was just a kid. Moved to the city as soon as I left school.”
“Do you still have family there?”
The man’s face went blank. “Nope. I met my wife there, but neither of us has been back.”
Clayton pondered that. “You must have been together a long time if you met at school?”
“Twenty-five years, we’ve been together. We met when I was ten.”
Clayton shook his head. “Wow, that’s fantastic. Got any kids?”
“Two girls. Amy and Anissa. Then there are my dolls, of course.”
“Dolls?”
“Yes, I carve them from wood and paint their faces. I even make their clothes. My girls love them and my wife makes good money selling them at the markets.”
“I have a daughter, too. I might have to stop by your wife’s stall. Is it Paddy’s Markets she goes to?” he asked, referring to the iconic markets held every weekend in the city.
“No, the local markets in Penrith. We live out that way.”
Clayton smiled. “Well, Lex, you’re in luck. By the time you drop me off, you’ll be almost home.”
The man smiled back. “I wish. I don’t finish for hours yet. It’s a late one for me tonight.”
Clayton commiserated with him in silence. He’d done his fair share of night shifts.
The streets slid by in the quiet of the oncoming night. Before long, Lex turned the cab into the street that led to the police station and pulled up beside the curb outside the building. Clayton handed him a credit card and moments later, the transaction was completed.
Tugging his bag out of the trunk, Clayton lifted his hand in farewell. “Thanks for the ride, Lex and good luck with your dolls.”
A wide, white grin accompanied the slight wave of a hand. The car pulled away and disappeared down the road.
* * *
Ellie stared out the window. The sun had long since vanished behind a heavy bank of storm clouds. The squad room door opened on a rush of cold air. She turned as Ben strode across the room and stuck out his hand before enveloping the newcomer in a friendly hug.
“Clayton, you’re looking well. It’s good to see you again. Thanks for braving the storm and coming up at such short notice. We really appreciate it. Isn’t that right ladies and gentlemen?”
Ben swung around and gestured toward the group of officers. Ellie’s gaze focused on the stranger who stood just inside the doorway.
Ben stepped forward. “I’d like you all to meet Federal Agent Clayton Munro.”
She tried not to stare at the man who watched her with a pair of coolly assessing blue eyes. He looked like Brad Pitt. The younger, clean-cut version. The one that had sent her pulse soaring in Legends of the Fall and Meet Joe Black and a heap of other movies. She’d seen them all.
Belatedly, she shook his proffered hand, her mouth unable to form anything more than a mumbled greeting. Misinterpreting her reticence, Ben frowned in warning.
“Luke Baxter. Nice to meet you.”
Much to Ellie’s relief, her boss’ attention was distracted by Luke’s timely greeting. She snatched a breath. It had been so long since a man had stirred anything inside her, she’d almost convinced herself that her sex drive had died along with Jamie. She forced a couple of surreptitious breaths through her lungs, listening in silence while Ben asked the newcomer about his flight. Talk soon moved to the investigation.
The Fed listened with narrow-eyed concentration. Ellie’s gaze wandered over his physique. He looked like he’d come straight from an advertisement for GQ magazine. Despite the fact he’d just stepped off a plane, his navy suit and crisp white shirt were impeccable. A navy, gold and silver striped tie was knotted with precision around a strong tanned neck.
This was not good. She was taking way too much notice of the guy. So what if he was hot? He was a Fed. After her experience with Robert, she’d be stupid to go there again. In an effort to put some distance between them, she strode over to her desk and sat down, concentrating her attention on Ben.
Her boss had moved over to the whiteboard that was fixed to the wall a few feet in front of her. A timeline of the missing girls had been constructed more than a fortnight ago. Josie Ward was last in line.
Ben tapped the whiteboard with the marker in his hand. “Sally Batten’s the first one to disappear. Twenty-two years old. She’s a student at the University of Western Sydney and attends the Penrith campus. She also works as a part-time shop assistant at the Penrith Westfield shopping complex. Her mother came to the station two weeks before the call came in about Josie Ward. Sally hasn’t been seen for a month.”
“Does she live at home?” Clayton asked.
“Yeah, we think so,” Luke replied. “There’s some confusion about that. She was staying on and off at her boyfriend’s house in Mt Druitt. That’s why her parents didn’t call it in right away. They assumed she was with him.”
Clayton turned around, his gaze encompassing both Ellie and Luke. “So, does anyone know when she was last seen?”
Ellie filled the uncomfortable silence. “The last time her mother saw her was June nineteenth. We found a couple of friends who were almost certain she’d been to class that day, but then the boyfriend said he hadn’t seen her all week.”
“Sounds like a caring bloke.”
“You’ve got that right,” Luke said. “We went to his apartment about ten in the morning and found him lying on the bathroom floor, covered in his own vomit. Said he’d had a late night. The place stunk of pot.”
“Nice. Just the kind of bloke you want your daughter to hang out with.”
“Yeah, well Mom and Dad aren’t exactly Mr and Mrs Walton,” Ellie added. “They live in some shithole at the back of Mt Druitt. Can’t say I blame the girl for wanting to get out.”
“Sounds like she aimed for the stars.” His expression mocked her.
Ellie bristled. “It doesn’t make her any less of a victim.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t say that it did.”
“Besides, one of her friends thought they’d broken up. The boyfriend wouldn’t confirm the status of their relationship,” she clarified.
Baleful blue eyes stared her down. “As I said, sounds like a caring bloke.”
Ellie’s gaze narrowed on the Fed. She opened her mouth to protest again. Ben cleared his throat, cutting her off.
“Let’s continue, shall we? I know it’s late and we’re all feeling tired, but we need to keep our eye on the ball here.” Her boss gave Ellie a fierce frown before turning back to the whiteboard.
“Josie Ward comes in next. Her mother called a fortnight ago. She’s nineteen and lives at home with her parents. She hasn’t been seen since July third.” He paused. “She’s also got Down’s syndrome.”
Clayton’s face sobered. “Christ.”
Ben’s lips tightened. “Yeah. The general duties boys teamed up with State Emergency Personnel and conducted search parties and door-knocks at the time, but came up with nothing.”
“What do we know about her?”
Ben turned to look at Ellie and Luke. Clayton followed suit. Ellie squirmed under his regard. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when Luke answered.
“She was dropped off at work by her father. For various reasons, neither of her parents could collect her that night. She finished work at ten. Her boss arranged for her to catch a cab home.”
Ellie recovered her aplomb and took up where Luke left off.
“Unfortunately, the man delegated with the job of seeing her to the taxi stand was Drew McNeill, a twenty-two-year-old co-worker who was more interested in getting home to catch the final half of the football game than he was seeing Josie Ward safely to a taxi. When we spoke to him, he admitted he’d left the store with her and had walked her to the nearby taxi stand, but couldn’t remember if there were any cabs waiting and if there were, he couldn’t recall any of the cab companies.”
She eyed the Fed balefully. “Harold Ward is still beating himself up about it. It was his suggestion that his daughter catch a cab.”
The Fed frowned at her. “So no one saw her climb into a cab?”
“No,” Ellie replied.
“I take it the girl’s father isn’t a person of interest?”
Ellie responded again. “That’s right. “Apart from the fact he’s almost suicidal with guilt over his part in Josie’s disappearance, it was impossible for him to be responsible for her abduction. There are several witnesses who said he was at work at Westmead Hospital until eleven that night. Josie disappeared shortly after ten.”
The Fed nodded and then turned back to Ben. “What else have we got?”
Ben pursed his lips and referred back to the whiteboard. “The next one we have listed is the head that was found on the banks of the Nepean River. Until we get an ID, we don’t know where she fits into our timeline, or even if. The forensic pathologist says death occurred up to three weeks before she was found, which means she was killed about five weeks ago. I’ve put her at the front of the list until we get an ID.”
He underlined the name Jane Doe at the front of the timeline and then turned back to face them. “I know I don’t need to remind anyone about the savagery of this attack. Identifying this young woman is our top priority.” He turned to Clayton. “We’ve been running her picture in the media for the last couple of weeks. We’ve had a handful of enquires, but so far, nothing’s panned out.”
Clayton tapped a finger to his lips, his brow furrowed in thought. “I take it these girls went missing from the same area?”
Ellie answered. “Yes, more or less. They’re both from western Sydney and live within a couple mile radius of each other.”
“And Sally Batten attends Uni?”
“Actually, Josie Ward’s a student, too,” Ellie said. “She attends classes at the same campus.”
Ben frowned. “Really? I didn’t know that.”
Ellie shrugged. “Apparently she’s been taking some art class a few days a week. Nothing major from what I could gather.”
“So,” the Fed replied, “has anyone talked to the staff at the university?”
“We’ve made a start,” Ellie replied, “but you’re talking about hundreds of people. Faculty members, groundsmen, cleaners, other staff. And that’s before we start looking at the students.” Her gaze challenged him. “We don’t have the unlimited budgets some people do.”
He stared back at her, lasering her with his eyes. Heat scorched her neck. She looked away.
Luke broke the tense silence. “We’ve talked to some of the girls’ friends. From what we can gather, neither of them knew each other. Preliminary enquires seem to indicate there’s only one faculty member who has a common link to them. Stewart Boston, an art professor. He was Josie’s teacher and it looks like Sally Batten was also taking one of his classes.”
Ellie returned to the discussion. “The art professor’s on a month’s leave. He left about a week and a half ago.”
Clayton’s eyes narrowed. “So, that means he took off shortly after Josie was reported missing. You don’t think that’s significant?”
He’d addressed her directly, his gaze burning into hers. She held her ground, refusing to be intimidated.
“Possibly. It’s too early to tell. Besides, Sally Batten’s been missing about a month. And of course, until we’ve identified Jane Doe, we won’t know if there’s any connection there.”
“But he does work at the University and he just happens to teach two of our missing girls.” He drilled her again with his gaze. “And now he’s disappeared?”
The sudden tension in the air was palpable. Anger ignited inside her. How dare he come and throw his weight around the minute he arrived? He’d been invited along to help them, not make them feel like incompetent probation officers straight out of the Academy.
Ellie seethed in silence. Ben leveled her with a look of warning and she clamped her mouth shut. The Fed turned back to the whiteboard.
Easing out her breath, she flashed Luke a look of apology. He grimaced and directed his attention back toward Clayton who’d begun to speak again.
“At this stage, it’s impossible to tell who we’re looking for and whether we’re looking for one killer or more. Until we know if the missing girls are, in fact dead, we don’t even know if there’s a connection between them and the unidentified head.”
He spread his arms wide. “I understand your concerns. Anyone prowling the streets of Sydney decapitating women while they’re still alive needs to be found, and quickly.” He swung around and stared at Ben. “You’re right when you say identifying Jane Doe is your number one priority. Once we know who she is, then we can decide if there’s a link between her and the missing girls. Until that happens, unfortunately, there’s not a lot we can do unless another body turns up.”
Ellie grimaced. No one wanted to think about that possibility. But the Fed was right. Until they’d cemented a link between the women, they were stuck in limbo.
“Ben, if you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow Jane Doe’s file and go through it—get a feel for what’s happened so far,” Clayton said.
“No problem. Ellie and Luke can give you everything they have.”
“Which is blessed little,” Ellie mumbled as she gathered up Bill Griffin’s statement and the scant forensic reports they’d scraped together so far.
“Where are you staying, Clayton?” Ben asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”
“Uh, thanks Ben, but I’ve booked a room in the city. I was going to stay with one of my brothers. Three of them are living in Sydney. I called Tom, but his house is in quarantine. His youngest has the chicken pox. I rang Declan, too—you might remember him?”
Ben nodded. “Yes, he’s a bit older than you, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s three years older. Anyway, he’s away on holidays up in Queensland. I didn’t even bother to call Brandon. He spends more time overseas on top secret AFP Missions than he does in Sydney.” Clayton shrugged. “I decided it was probably easier to stay in a hotel. Besides, I can stay totally focused on the case this way and I’ll be free to come and go as I please. I was hoping you’d give me the use of an unmarked squad car.”
Color stained Ben’s cheeks. “You’re forgetting we’re State coppers. There’s no money for spare vehicles. Ride with Ellie. She commutes from the city. Besides, she’s been on the case since the get-go. She will be able to fill in any gaps.”
A surge of alarm burned through her. Sidling up to Ben, she lowered her voice. “Ah, Ben? I was thinking—that is, maybe Luke could—?”
“Luke lives in Cronulla, Ellie. That’s hardly practical. He can partner with Cheryl for the next little while.” Ben glanced in Luke’s direction. “Are you all right with that?”
“Yeah, boss; no worries.”
With a muffled groan, Ellie pushed passed him and strode in the direction of the locker room. How the hell had she managed to get herself lumped with another Fed?
CHAPTER FOUR
Ellie took a sip from her double shot espresso and waited for the caffeine to work its magic. It was barely eight thirty and already a headache plagued her. It had started when she’d woken and remembered she’d
been partnered with the Fed.
She stifled a groan. It wasn’t as if she had anything against him, personally. It wasn’t like it was the AFP’s fault her ex had turned into a bastard the minute he’d been accepted into its haloed ranks. He’d obviously had the potential to be a loser well before then.
It was just that his weakness hadn’t manifested itself until the acceptance papers arrived in the mail. Overnight, he’d morphed into someone she hadn’t recognized. The memories still made her angry, although in clearer moments, she grudgingly accepted how lucky she’d been to discover his inherent selfishness well before the wedding march had been played.
Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to deal with Clayton for more than the ride to work. Within moments of taking the seat beside her, he’d asked her to drop him off at the Westmead Morgue. He’d then proceeded to stare out the window. They’d spent the rest of the journey in silence. She’d been even more relieved when he’d told her he’d be at the morgue for most of the morning.
The only thing she’d been disgruntled about was that he’d looked good enough to eat in his tailor-made designer suit and crisply knotted tie. He’d offered her a casual wave good-bye with a smile that could have sold toothpaste and her belly had fluttered with nerves. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit it was her reaction to him that had her most out of sorts.
Luke sauntered in from the tea room, his usual brew of coffee in hand. Catching sight of her face, he shook his head. “Not a good way to start the morning, Coop.”
Ellie threw him a withering look. “You’d better watch your mouth, Baxter. I’m not in the mood.”
“Now, now, Coop. Don’t be like that. How could you be out of sorts with the sun barely two hours above the horizon? It’s not like you to come to work in a bad mood.”
She threw her hands in the air, her frustration evident. “Who knows? Maybe it has something to do with the unsolved cases piling up on my desk. Or the fact that Ben’s seen it necessary to bring in outsiders before we’ve even had a chance to put together something ourselves.” Collapsing back into her chair, she blew her breath out in an effort to relieve the tension that had her wound as tight as a guitar string. She looked up as Ben strode in.