Cooper checked the time on his phone. It was after one o’clock. “They might be finished lunch by now, anyway. Or if not, they soon will be. Then what? What will Carmel do next? If she’s planning to kill Kim, they might not even go to lunch. That’s just what she told Jack. She could be anywhere.”
Stocky took a seat at the round table. “If she follows her usual pattern, she’ll need to get Kim in an isolated bush area.”
“What if she’s convinced Kim to go away with her, like she did with the woman she killed in WA? The real Carmel?” Cooper sat opposite his partner. It felt hopeless, all this speculating. They needed something concrete.
“Whatever she’s doing, she’s probably using her car. Let’s get an alert out on it straight away. Chances are we can stop her getting too far.”
It was the best they could do, but Cooper was worried it wasn’t enough. “What if she’s changed cars? She knows we’re close, she’d be taking precautions, wouldn’t she?”
“She knows we’re close, but not this close. She’s a narcissist, Coop. They always think they’re better than us. They think they’re untouchable, and Carmel’s no different. We can use that against her.”
Stocky made the call that would send an alert out over the police network state wide, with a description of Carmel and the licence plate and description of her car. He also requested monitoring of the state’s toll roads, so if she went through one of their checking stations it would throw up an alarm and they’d be contacted. If Carmel was driving in or around the city in her own car, they’d find her soon enough.
“I can’t just sit here and wait,” said Cooper once Stocky finished on the phone.
“No. There’s a Centrelink office near here, let’s see how many women with the first name Kim are on the disability pension in the local area.”
* * *
After showing their badges to the manager of the Hunters Hill Centrelink, and convincing him that one of their analysts could get the same information by accessing their system back at Parramatta, but a woman’s life may be in danger and they didn’t have time to go back to Parramatta, they finally got the search results they needed. There were two women with the first name of Kim on the disability pension who regularly used this office, and another two in neighbouring suburbs. Of the four, one was in her twenties, one was in a wheelchair with a brain injury, and a third was married with two children. That left Kim McDonald, a forty-nine year old woman with chronic neck and back pain who lived alone in an apartment in Putney.
“She’s gotta be the one,” Cooper said, and for the first time today he felt optimistic. He grabbed a pen and paper from the manager’s desk and wrote down the address while Stocky thanked the manager for his time and understanding, then they were off to Putney.
“Reckon we should call for backup?” Cooper asked as Stocky drove this time.
“Nah. Call Munro, though, bring him up to speed.”
Cooper did so, and Stocky lit the car up to get through Sydney traffic. They were at the address in less than seven minutes, but were disappointed to find it empty.
It was a ground-floor flat, and Cooper continued to bang on the front door while Stocky went around and checked the windows.
“Can’t see anything, looks like no-one’s home.”
“You missed them by a couple of hours.”
Cooper spun to find the owner of the voice, an old woman holding a little white fluffy dog, standing in the doorway of the apartment on the other side of the driveway. The place was the mirror image of Kim’s structurally, but a lot more care and love had gone into it by the looks of the porch and the little garden under the front windows. Cooper and Stocky crossed the driveway to talk to the woman, pulling out their badges to identify themselves.
“Oh, I know you’re cops. Always could tell.”
Cooper chose to let that one go. “You’re saying Kim McDonald left here about an hour ago? Was she with anybody?”
The dog started barking, but Stocky put a hand out to it and soothed it quicker than Cooper had ever been able. They encountered a lot of dogs in their line of work, and Stocky seemed to have a natural way with them. Cooper had all but given up.
The woman looked at the now placid dog, surprise registering on her face, before she answered the question.
“That showy piece that’s been around here a lot. Heels and a skirt all the time, you know the type I mean. Don’t know her name, Kim and I don’t really speak much except to say hello. Comes over at least once a week, and the two of them go off somewhere together for a couple hours. Unlikely pair, if you ask me. But then, no-one ever asks me, so I keep to myself.”
Keeps to herself but knows everybody’s business, thought Cooper. There were enough people like that around, and thank goodness. Sticky-beaks were always a good source of information for detectives.
“Were they driving?” asked Stocky.
The woman nodded. “A white car. Don’t know what type, not much of a car person.”
Carmel drove a white Audi sedan, and the description of the woman as a ‘showy piece in heels and a skirt’, although unconventional, matched Carmel Payne. They were on the right track.
“Don’t suppose you have any idea where they were headed?” Cooper gave it a shot.
“Nope. Sorry, fellas. Kim in any trouble? She’s a good neighbour. Quiet. Hate to lose someone like that.”
Cooper gave her the ‘can’t comment on an ongoing investigation’ spiel, then thanked her for her time. They got back in the car.
“Now what?” he asked, but Stocky didn’t get time to answer before his phone rang. He swiped at the screen and listened for about thirty seconds before asking whoever it was to send the details to Cooper’s phone. He hung up and lit both lights and sirens as he pulled out into the traffic.
“What have we got?” Cooper asked, waiting for whatever it was to come through on his phone.
“Carmel just used one of her credit cards at a restaurant in the city.”
“In the city?” Cooper was confused. “We thought she’d be heading out of town, off to find a bush location. What’s she doing having lunch in the city?”
Stocky shrugged as he manoeuvred the car across the median strip to get past cars stopped at a red light. “If she’s going to kill Kim, she probably wants to wait until night-time to do it. Plus if she’s going to steal her identity and become a poor woman on disability, maybe she wants one last fancy lunch. Or maybe she’s taken Kim to this restaurant to spoil her so she’ll do anything Carmel asks. Who knows, and frankly, what does it matter? The important thing is we know where she is. We just have to get there before she leaves.”
Cooper’s phone pinged with a message, the address of the restaurant where Carmel and Kim supposedly just ate. He quickly plugged it into the map application, then glanced to the left as Stocky flew over Gladesville Bridge. The city loomed large, and Cooper’s gut churned at the thought of the killer on its streets with her victim already in her clutches. How were they going to get to them in time?
18
Carmel watched Kim across the table as they ate. The woman wasn’t completely unattractive, but she could have made more of an effort with her clothes. Slacks and a floral-print shirt were not what Carmel had in mind when she’d told her new friend to get dressed up, they were going for lunch in the city.
New friend. That was a stretch. Carmel didn’t have friends, not in the sense everyone else seemed to have friends. People either bored her, amused her, or were necessary to her. Kim was necessary, but she had to admit the woman had, at times, been amusing as well.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sit for much longer, Carmel.” Kim had been complaining for the last half hour, clutching at her back, and it was starting to do Carmel’s head in. How hard is it to fucking sit still in a chair? She wasn’t a child, for fuck’s sake.
“Just a little longer, darling. I want you to try the dessert here, they have a divine selection. I’ll get them to bring over the cart.” Bef
ore Kim could protest, Carmel waved a waiter over and made her request. An enormous cart was wheeled over to them displaying every cake imaginable. “I just adore cake, don’t you?”
Kim brightened a little at the sight of the sweets. “How can you possibly adore cake and still look the way you do?”
“Moderation, darling. Everything in moderation.” Carmel looked Kim up and down, taking in the solid frame she’d been disgusted by for weeks now. “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll teach you. We’ll start next week.” Carmel smiled; there wasn’t going to be a next week for Kim.
They finished the meal and as Carmel paid with her credit card she looked longingly at the little piece of plastic. It had been fun spending Jack’s money, she was certainly going to miss that. She’d built up a nice little stash of cash, of course — it was a precaution she always took. But something about handing over a card that took care of everything just felt so good to her.
While Kim was in the bathroom Carmel took the opportunity to check all was right with the contents of her purse. The most important thing was still there, and she smiled as she remembered the young man at the shooting range in Surfer’s Paradise who’d taught her how to use it — he’d been fun to play with. She then looked through all the credit cards she had in this wallet at the moment. There weren’t as many as usual, that stupid bitch Rebecca had seen to that. Getting caught at work was unforgivable, especially since Carmel hadn’t found a replacement for her yet. And then the police had found the woman’s body so quickly, Carmel had had to use her backup plan earlier than expected.
Speaking of back up plans, Kim came out of the bathroom, again holding her back and now walking a little lopsided as well.
“Straighten up, darling. No-one likes a slouch.”
Kim shook her head. “I’m finished for the day, I’m afraid. My back feels like it’s breaking in two, I really have to lie down.”
“Nonsense.” Carmel took her by the arm and led her out of the restaurant. “We have shopping to do.” She’d be damned if she’d let this frump of a woman spoil her last day in Sydney. “I need some new clothes, and you do too.”
They spent the next couple of hours scouring the boutiques in the Queen Victoria Building, one of Carmel’s favourite places. She often wondered what it would have been like to live in Sydney back in the late 1800s, when the QVB first existed as a vibrant marketplace. She was confident that with her skills she’d have excelled in such a world; convincing young men to trust her, worming her way into their lives and their pockets. Still, there was something to be said for the ease with which one could steal the identity of another in the digital age.
“I’m really going to have to insist you take me home now. Please, Carmel.” Kim propped herself up against a wall in the stairwell of the building. At Christmas an enormous tree filled this space, but right now it was only home to shoppers, tourists, and the occasional hurrying office worker.
Carmel considered her options. As much as she wanted to continue shopping, dragging Kim round the shops was becoming a bore. The woman had no sense of adventure. She looked down at the swag of shopping bags loading both her and Kim down, and was satisfied she’d given Jack’s cards a decent final workout. Did she have enough for the next phase of the plan? Not as much as she would have liked, but coupled with the contents of the three suitcases in the boot of her car, it was going to have to do.
“All right, let’s head back to the car.” She piled all of her bags into one hand, and took hold of Kim’s arm with the other. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realise you were in so much pain. But I have a surprise for you that I think you’re going to love.”
“A surprise?” Kim’s face had brightened now that she thought they were heading home. “What kind of surprise?”
Carmel smiled. “How long since you’ve had a holiday?”
“A holiday? Geez, I can’t even remember. There’s no money left over for holidays in my world, Carmel.”
“Well what if I said I was taking you away? No need to worry about money, I have that covered. Just a little trip for you and me to enjoy together.”
Kim looked worried. “I don’t know. I can’t let you go spending more money on me.” She held up the bags in her arms. “You’ve already bought me too much.”
“Well what do you think those clothes are for? I’m not going to take no for an answer. You deserve a break, my friend.”
They reached the car and Kim stood waiting for the boot to click open.
“Let’s put them on the back seat,” said Carmel. “Jack’s got me hauling around boxes of paperwork for some reason, the boot’s full.”
As they piled the bags into the back seat, Carmel caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye, and had just enough time to get around to Kim’s side of the car before she heard the word she’d dreaded for years now.
“Freeze.”
* * *
Cooper issued the command, and quickly followed it up with “Police! Don’t move!” but Carmel was on the other side of the car with Kim in front of her. They’d hesitated a moment too long, and it had cost them valuable position. Stocky moved towards the back of the car while Cooper took the front, service weapons drawn and trained on Carmel. But she was quick, and before they had a clear shot she had a gun to Kim’s head.
“You’re going to want to let us go, Detectives. I don’t want to hurt her.”
Bullshit, thought Cooper. You were planning to kill her and steal her identity. You don’t care about this woman at all. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. All these thoughts ran through his mind, but he didn’t say them aloud. Instead, he let Stocky do the talking.
“We can’t let you go, Carmel. You know that. Kim hasn’t done anything wrong. Let her go.”
Cooper watched as Carmel looked from Stocky to him, and back to Stocky again. He realised what she was going to do a split second before she did it. He yelled at Stocky to get down, but it wasn’t enough. The bullet hit him in the chest, and as he collapsed Carmel pushed Kim onto him and ran off.
“Fuck!” Cooper took cover and fired off a couple of shots, but Carmel put a large concrete pole between them and took off down the up ramp. She was almost taken out by a car on its way up, but she corrected her course at the last second and avoided a collision. Cooper knew he couldn’t stop her, and turned his attention to his partner. Stocky lay bleeding on the ground, a shrieking woman still on top of him.
Cooper pulled Kim off and sat her against the wheel of Carmel’s car before ripping open Stocky’s shirt and examining the wound. It was in the middle of his chest, so hopefully it missed the heart and anything else vital that might be in there. No time to worry about that now. He got out his phone and called for an ambulance, then issued a description of Carmel and the location. With his free hand he reached into the closest of the shopping bags, now scattered across the ground, pulled out a handful of clothing, and pressed it hard to Stocky’s wound. By the time he’d finished the call, Kim had stopped screaming.
“I need your help,” he said, looking her in the eye and trying for the most comforting smile he could muster. He took her hand and pushed it onto the bundle of clothes on Stocky’s chest, which had already started to turn red. “I need you to keep pressure on this. Can you do that?”
Kim nodded, and Cooper was relieved. She’d calmed down considerably now. He turned to his partner, who was wide awake.
“You’re going to be fine, mate. Kim here is going to look after you until help arrives.”
Stocky nodded then tried to speak. “Go…” was all he could manage.
“Yeah, I’m going.” He knew exactly what Stocky meant — he had to go after Carmel now, or they risked losing her forever. He couldn’t let that happen, more people would surely die. After what she’d just done, Cooper had no doubt the woman was a psychopath. Sirens called out in the distance, it wouldn’t be long before Stocky was in good hands.
“Go,” Stocky spat out again, this time the look in his eyes plea
ding for Cooper to get out of here.
“I’ll take care of him,” Kim added. Cooper nodded, squeezed Kim’s arm to say thanks, and took off at a run in the direction Carmel had fled.
Out on the street there was no sign of her. He stopped for a second and thought about it. She knew she had a head start. What would he do if he were her? He looked across the road to the Queen Victoria Building, where, according to her bank, Carmel had just spent the better part of two hours and four thousand dollars. I’d try and blend in, he thought. I’d go back through there to the bus stops on the other side and get on the first bus that came along.
Negotiating the galleries of the QVB in peak shopping time was a challenge, but Cooper held up his badge and kept yelling out “Police! Out of the way!” which seemed to do the trick. He found his way through to George Street and scanned the bus stops, but Carmel wasn’t among the shoppers and office workers standing in line. Then he remembered the majority of these buses would terminate at Circular Quay anyway, and if it were him he’d cross the road and get a bus heading uptown. He spotted her a moment after she’d obviously spotted him, because she was running again.
Cooper held up his badge to stop traffic so he could safely get across the street. Private cars stopped to let him through, but the city’s taxi drivers were apparently not so obliging. One actually hit him in the leg before it came to a stop, and when Cooper raised his badge to the driver the man simply shrugged and stared back at him. With no time to argue, Cooper shook his head, said a few choice words, and carried on after Carmel.
How can she run in those heels? He caught sight of her again on Park Street. He was gaining on her, but he was conscious that she still had a gun and no qualms about using it. The last thing he needed was an innocent bystander injured or killed during a police chase, even if it was on foot.
He let her get all the way to Hyde Park before closing in on her. In other circumstances, this was one of his favourite places in the city. Now it was filled with Sydneysiders enjoying the afternoon sun, all of them potential targets for Carmel. She started looking at the people, looking around for a hostage, and he knew he had to act fast.
The Dark Series Page 11