by C. A. Larmer
Alicia glanced back at the screen and saw that Kat was now taking the viewer on a tour of a completely whitewashed kitchen with gleaming chrome appliances. “Her kitchen has all the latest gizmos. And four thousand dollars for a light isn’t exactly loose change. How does she make her money? Surely YouTube ads don’t pay that handsomely. What does hubby do?”
“He’s a chippie.”
“A carpenter? That suits.” She remembered his broad shoulders and checked shirt.
“But you’re wrong about YouTube. The biggest stars get paid ridiculously well. Eliot told Singho that his wife made close to half a million bucks last year in sponsorships and advertising deals alone.”
Alicia’s jaw dropped. “Wow, okay, I take it all back. I want my own Instagram following!” She shook her head. “So when Eliot referred to her sponsor at the bar that night…”
“He probably meant a genuine business sponsor. You wouldn’t want to risk that kind of money for a drunken night out. You blemish your reputation, you blemish your brand.” He nudged his eyebrows up. “You like that? I was doing a crash course on digital marketing last night.”
“Very impressive.”
Jackson dusted the croissant crumbs from his trousers and checked his watch. “I’d better get going. Just tell me, any luck with the clubbers? Anyone recall anything useful on those two blokes I asked about?”
“Sorry, no. They were uncharacteristically quiet on that.”
He stood up. “Well, it was worth a try.” He leaned across and gave her a long, lingering kiss that tasted of coffee beans and butter. “How about dinner tonight?”
“Love to. When can you get away?”
He shrugged. “I’ll be in touch. I better fly. Indira wants to reinterview Eliot first thing. We’re hoping he’s moved out of shock and denial and into the angry stage.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Why do you want him angry?”
“Because then he might start pointing the finger and give us a few decent suspects.”
Chapter 14
Three days had passed since his wife was murdered, and Eliot Mumford’s shock was still palpable. He had not yet got to angry, or at least that’s how it looked to the detectives when he answered the door.
After offering a stunned hello, he shuffled back through his hallway to the open-plan kitchen/living area, his shoulders slumped, his gait slow. He looked like he was half-drugged, like he had the world on those shoulders and at least a couple of other planets on top.
As they followed him through the house, Indira expected to be familiar with most of it. Like Jackson, she had studied Kat’s blogs intensely. But as they entered the kitchen, she was surprised to find it wasn’t quite as whitewashed as she remembered and not nearly as tidy. Old burger wrappers, coffee cups and dirty dishes were stacked high on a black-and-white marble benchtop, and there was an odious smell coming from an open garbage bin that was half-toppled over near the back door. Housework was obviously Kat’s domain. Either that or he’d given up now he’d lost his soul mate.
And who can blame him? Indira thought as she glanced around.
For his part, Jackson couldn’t help wondering what all the fancy sponsors would think.
“How are you holding up?” Indira asked, trying to keep the worried look from her eyes.
“Oh, I’m just numb. Confused. Sad. Numb,” he said again.
She brushed a hand on his forearm and nodded. “Yep, it’s a shitty, shitty time.”
No point pretending otherwise.
Eliot looked around the kitchen blankly, like he’d forgotten why they were there, so Indira pointed at the kitchen stools and said, “Shall we take a seat?”
He nodded and sat down.
Jackson cleared his throat. “Sorry to do this to you mate, but we have some more questions. We’ve got a couple of suspects that we’re having trouble tracking down.”
Indira shot her colleague a frown. She had hoped to ease him in a bit first, but Eliot was now nodding keenly.
“Yeah, I guess you would. I’ve been thinking about it, the killer was…” He sighed, scratched his scruffy hair. “Well, they were very bloody lucky, weren’t they?”
Now she swept her eyes to him. “How so?”
“A park full of strangers at night, nobody knows anybody, everybody’s looking up at the screen. Endless people wandering around using toilets, fetching drinks. Everybody had a legitimate reason for being there. Nobody needs alibis; it’s open slather.”
“You’ve given it some thought,” Indira said.
“It’s all I can think about,” he said stonily.
Eliot was right, of course. It wasn’t like a private event where they could track down the participants or spot the odd one out. Public events were open to all, including psychopaths. Of course, that didn’t mean that those same psychopaths didn’t stand out, even in a crowd.
“I’m thinking about the two blokes who were seated to the right of your blanket, between you and the bar—they were bit out of place don’t you think?” said Jackson.
“How so?”
“For starters, it seems a strange film choice for a couple of redneck tradesmen. I mean, The Fast And The Furious, sure.”
“Jackie Chan?” Indira offered, and he nodded.
“The latest James Bond even, but an Agatha Christie flick? No offence, Agatha, but I was only there to cosy up to my girlfriend.”
Eliot’s eyebrows shot up. “You were there?”
“Just briefly. Had to take off. Missed all the action.”
He hoped it didn’t sound flippant, but Eliot didn’t appear to take offence.
He just nodded and said, “Yeah, well, we were only there for a laugh as well; it wasn’t supposed to end like that.”
“Those two blokes I mentioned, any idea who they were? Whether they looked familiar?”
Eliot shrugged. “I’m not even sure who you’re talking about, to be honest. Don’t think I noticed them.”
“They noticed you,” Jackson said. “Or at least that’s what the witnesses say. Reckon the two guys were enjoying your little blanket antics with Kat.”
He dropped his head into his hands then. “Oh no way.”
“So you can see why we want to track them down, right? Problem is they’ve vanished. So you have absolutely no idea who they were? Notice any identifying clothes or tattoos or—”
“I told you, man, I barely remember them!”
He had raised his voice considerably but calmed down again quickly, looking up at DI Singh with imploring eyes.
“Sorry. I… I’m just gutted. After you told me about my poor little kitten, about the assault… I… I just feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.”
Indira held a hand up. “That’s also why we’re here, Eliot.”
She frowned again at Jackson, wishing he hadn’t launched into his interrogation so quickly. She’d wanted to deliver this tiny sliver of good news first. Indira liked her fellow detective, but he was like the proverbial bull sometimes. He always rushed in, treating victims like suspects, never comprehending their pain or giving them the benefit of the doubt.
Smiling reassuringly at Eliot, she said, “The coroner handed down the official autopsy report this morning.” Eliot’s eyes widened. “As I explained yesterday, there’s still some more tests to be done, but we wanted to let you know, first thing, there was no sign of sexual assault. None whatsoever.”
Eliot closed his eyes and brought his fingers prayerlike to his lips, as though giving thanks, then snapped his eyes open again. “So why was her top torn?”
She stared at him blankly. She didn’t want to tell him that someone had probably tried, was most likely interrupted during the process, but he must have come to that horrendous conclusion himself because he dropped his head back into his hands and moaned.
Jackson coughed. He knew his partner was the softly-softly kind, but he needed to get Eliot back on track, and fast. A killer had been walking free for three days now, and he was desperate for
some progress.
“Listen, Mr Mumford. I need to ask you about the barman as well. Do you remember the guy working the Booze Bar that night? The one your wife bought her last glass of champagne from?”
Eliot looked up again, confused. “Yeah, I think so. Young bloke. Why? You think he did it?”
“Not saying that, not at all. He’s just a person of interest at this stage, and we’d like to bring him in for questioning, but we’re having a bit of trouble locating him at present. We need to identify him.”
What he didn’t tell him was that they were growing increasingly concerned. Despite putting an officer on Brandon Johnson’s door last night, he never returned and there was no sign of him at home or work this morning.
Eliot looked lively suddenly, clearly buoyed by this new lead. “Um, okay, sure, let me think. Like I said, young dude, maybe nineteen, twenty max. Dark hair, skinny, bit judgy.”
“Judgy?”
“You know, judgmental, kind of scowled at us a lot. Well, at Kat really. She was pretty drunk. He kept looking at me as if to say reel your wife in. You think he did this?”
“Not saying that, no. But speaking of judgmental, do you remember the family of seven who were seated just behind you?”
He scoffed. “How could I forget? That dude had it in for us. Kept telling us to shut up. Said he had kids and we needed to be respectful or some shit. I told him maybe it was time to take the kids home to bed.” He scratched the back of his head. “Actually, now I think about it, one of the kids was a bit of a weirdo.”
Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”
Eliot ran a hand through his beard. “Dunno. It was just a vibe I was getting. He was definitely checking us out.”
Indira sat forward now. “You’re sure of that?”
He nodded. “That’s why we moved under the blanket. Kat felt a bit uncomfortable with him staring at us, but I thought he was harmless enough. I remember saying, ‘Oh he’s just a kid. In his dreams, kitten.’” He cringed at this, hunched over, dropping his head into his hands again. “Maybe I should have taken him more seriously!”
Indira reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Eliot, it’s very unlikely an adolescent boy did this thing. He may not have had the strength.” She glanced at Jackson. They would have to check that with the coroner. “But I can assure you we will investigate that thoroughly.”
“Thanks, Indira, I appreciate it.”
She nodded and stood up. “And on that startling note, I think we’ll leave you to it. You have my number if you think of anything else or you just need to talk.”
She gave Jackson the nod and turned to go, but her partner stood his ground.
“Er, just one more thing,” Jackson said. “I’m just wondering, Mr Mumford, was your wife a member of Alcoholics Anonymous?”
The younger man stared at him gobsmacked. “How did you—?” He stopped abruptly, his cheeks flushing bright red beneath his beard.
He clearly wasn’t expecting that question and nor was Indira who turned back to stare, inquisitively at Jackson.
Where had that come from?
Even Jackson looked surprised now and silently saluted Alicia. He had simply chucked the question out there to stir the man up. Never in a million years had he expected the answer to be yes. His girlfriend really was in the wrong career.
“You were overheard mentioning your wife’s sponsor at the bar that night,” Jackson replied. “We put two and two together.”
Well, Alicia did, but he didn’t need to know that.
Eliot started shaking his head, his eyes back on Indira. “Sorry, but… but what has AA got to do with any of this?”
Indira raised her eyebrows at Jackson as if wondering the same thing.
He said, “It may be nothing, nothing at all. It’s just that it’s a whole other avenue of enquiry, and it’s worth knowing about.”
Eliot was now scratching his beard. “Seriously, man, don’t bother. It’s a dead end.” Then he sighed and said, “Kat didn’t need AA. She thought she did. I wasn’t convinced.”
“Yet she was drinking to excess that night. You were overheard arguing about her drinking.”
The colour was rising in his cheeks again. “She’d had enough, that’s all. We were both in a great mood, why ruin it by going over the edge?”
“And you thought another glass of champagne would send her over the edge?” Jackson asked, and Eliot looked at him warily. “Was she in the habit of overdrinking?”
“She just liked a drink from time to time! Who the hell doesn’t?”
If he wasn’t angry before, he certainly was now, vigorously scratching at his beard with both hands. After a few moments, he stopped and inhaled deeply, clearly trying to calm down.
“Look, it didn’t happen often. Seriously, AA was a waste of time. Kat just went to one or two meetings, didn’t have anything good to say about them. Pack of losers, she said. I don’t even think she was going to go back.”
“And yet she had a sponsor. Do you mind if we contact that person?”
He was shaking his head now. “I… I don’t really even know them, yeah? It’s all kind of anonymous.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Oh, um, Tim? Tom? Something like that.”
“Do you know which group she attended?”
“Huh?”
Jackson could feel his patience waning. “Where it was? Which community centre or local hall?”
He sighed, threw his hands in the air. “I think it was nearby, wherever the local one is. Honestly, you’re wasting your time. She wasn’t an alcoholic.”
Tell that to her sponsor, Jackson thought before turning to his partner.
“Anything else?”
Indira ignored the question and addressed Eliot. “Thanks for your time. I know it’s a very trying period.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t forget you can call us if you need anything, anything at all.”
Eliot nodded bleakly, and Indira led the way outside, feeling like a spare tyre and not liking it one bit.
It was only once they were back in the car that she rounded on him.
“What the hell was that?”
Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “What?”
“Why didn’t you mention AA to me?”
“Sorry, it was just a wild hunch. I didn’t actually think he’d say yes. Alicia mentioned it to me this morning.”
“Alicia? Who the hell’s… Hang on, Alicia Finlay? One of your book club friends?”
He nodded.
“What are you doing discussing—”
“She’s my girlfriend,” he added quickly, cutting her off.
Jackson wasn’t sure why he hadn’t mentioned the relationship earlier, but the way she was glaring at him now made him wish he had. He suddenly felt like a thirteen-year-old caught snogging behind the school canteen.
“Oh, your girlfriend? And how did she work it out?”
“She was the one who’d overheard the comment about a sponsor. Even she agreed it was most likely related to a website sponsor. I was just trying my luck.”
“And your girlfriend didn’t see fit to mention it to me? I know we’re equal rank, but I outrank you on this case, right? You do understand the way this works? I’m the lead investigator. I spent two hours questioning Alicia and her mates on Sunday and not one word about it.”
He turned his whole body to look at her. “Are you angry with Alicia for not telling you? Me for not mentioning it earlier? Or yourself for not figuring it out?”
Or are you just angry that I have a girlfriend? he thought.
Indira frowned and looked away.
“Look, this is a good lead,” he told her. “There could be something in it. AA blows the case wide open. You know as well as I do the kinds of people who attend AA meetings. It’s not all suburban mums and dads. There could be a sex offender in the mix, someone ordered to attend AA by the courts. There sometimes is. It’s worth exploring.” He nudged her with his elbow. “I know you
’re officially my boss on this case, but we’re in it together, right?”
“Yes! You and me, together. Not you, me, your girlfriend, and her bloody book club.” Indira took a few calming breaths. “Sorry. It just came out of left field, that’s all. You know what I’m like. I like to be informed. I’m supposed to be the lead detective on this.”
Not your bloody girlfriend, she almost added but bit her tongue.
“And I’m sorry. I’ll give you the heads up in the future. I know you’re top dog. I’m not trying to take that away from you.” She gave him a half smile. “And I know I’m only on this case because I was there that night. I know Gordon was your first pick.”
“He wasn’t my—”
“I know we’re different beasts. I shoot from the hip. I run with my gut. I don’t play by the rules.”
“No? Really?”
Indira smiled properly this time. She had only worked with Jackson a handful of times before, but she knew his reputation, and she knew they worked very differently. But she liked the guy and she hoped they’d work together again. And he was right. She had asked for him on this case and not, as the other women in the office had suggested, to keep some eye candy about. Jackson had been at the scene of the crime earlier that night. He had a better idea of the layout and the mood of the evening than any other officer on the case. She needed him. Kat Mumford needed him. And so did Eliot.
“Just no more surprises, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
She started the car and pulled out.
After a few minutes’ contemplation, she said, “Good work back there. That’s the first time I’ve seen the husband look edgy. He really, really didn’t want us to follow that lead, did he?”
Jackson smiled. “Silly bugger. Now all I want to do is track down that bloody sponsor.”
“Then let’s try to do it.”
Chapter 15
“I’ll try to get there,” Alicia promised Perry over the phone from work. “But I’m a bit behind with the latest website. And the advertiser wants changes.” For the fifteenth time, she could have added, but kept that to herself.