by Gina Amos
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘What's the low down on these two, Brennan?’ Rimis asked.
Jill referred to her notebook. ‘Okay, I’ll start with William Phillips. He’s a corporate counsel and works for a merchant bank in the high end of town. Ruthless in business, a workaholic by all accounts, but generally well respected and liked by his clients and work colleagues. Only son of Rose Phillips who is not his birth mother, father unknown. Lives with his wife Suellyn, married for about thirteen years, not so happily recently, I gather, no children. Apparently there was a fallout between William and Rose over a paternity matter. They weren’t on speaking terms. The wife has had brief contact over the years with the deceased but apparently wanted her out of her Eden Street house. It is understood that she was the one responsible for disconnecting the electricity to the house and gave instructions to a local real estate agent, Ambah St John to sell it.’ She paused and looked over at Rimis. ‘She was the woman who found Rose’s body.’ He nodded. He remembered the young woman with the legs up to her neck and the blonde hair.
Jill continued. ‘Not much is known about Suellyn Phillips, attractive, a social butterfly I suppose is a good description, flits around the place, likes the long, boozy lunches with the girls. If you don't mind me saying so Sarge, a bit of a selfish bitch is probably a good description. Known to hit the booze regularly and hard. Two counts of DUI over the past three years. Tommy Dwyer is on the scene and could be a person of interest. Dwyer’s mother committed suicide about six months ago, interesting, same MO as the deceased.
‘Okay, I've got the gist of it. The beneficiaries of Rose’s estate are William Phillips, Thomas Dwyer Kevin Taggart, the next-door neighbour and Max Grey, an elderly neighbourhood gardener, correct?
‘Yep.’
‘I’ve met Mr Taggart. Strange fella that one. I’ve got my eye on him. Seems to have some sort of fascination for little old ladies.’ He cocked his eyebrows. ‘Most murder victims, if we are talking about murder here Brennan, are killed by people they know. Nine times out of ten, the murderer is someone who the victim knows, not a stranger. Murder is not usually a random act, the victim is someone who knows something, who has something, who’s got money, get the picture? Always look at the family first though, that’s usually where you’ll find the perp, Brennan.’
‘Here we are now, Sarge. Visitor parking is next to the entrance.’
Rimis parked in one of the visitor spaces and they walked to the front of the building. Brennan pressed the intercom. She introduced herself and the lock was released. Brennan and Rimis travelled in the lift to the eighth floor in silence. They flashed their IDs at Suellyn when she opened the front door and followed her as she led them into the lounge room where she invited them to take a seat.
‘Can I get you something to drink? A coke, mineral water or something a little stronger?’ Suellyn asked.
‘No thanks, Mrs Phillips.’ Rimis took a seat on a lounge and made himself comfortable. William walked into the room and looked straight at Jill, ignoring the hard-faced detective with her. Brennan introduced William to Nick Rimis.
‘Nice place you’ve got here Mr and Mrs Phillips. Always fancied myself living by the beach - plan to take up surfing one of these days.’ Rimis stood and flashed his ID card in William’s face.
‘With respect, let’s get on with it Detective Sergeant, as you know this isn’t a social call.’ William looked at Jill and then back at Rimis.
‘That’s Detective Senior Sergeant,’ Rimis scowled at William as he returned his ID to the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He didn’t like the tone in William’s voice and he wasn’t accustomed to being told how to conduct an interview, especially by some smart-arsed barrister.
Jill led Suellyn away to the kitchen to make coffee.
‘Let’s make a start then Mr Phillips. For the record, please state your full name and address.’ Rimis noticed the drinks cabinet and drifted towards it. He picked up the bottle of Highland Park. ‘Nice drop William, expensive too.’
‘Can we just get on with it?’ Rimis turned around and faced William.
‘By all means,’ he replied.
William approached the sideboard where Rimis had been standing only a few moments earlier. ‘My name is William Seymour Phillips; address Panorama Apartments, Marine Parade, Manly.’ William poured himself a Scotch from the bottle and picked up his glass. He raised his eyebrows pointing the glass towards Rimis. The Detective Senior Sergeant shook his head.
‘Mr Phillips, Detective Senior Constable Brennan has shown me, as you know, the letters written by Isabelle and Tommy Dwyer. That’s why we’re here of course. But before we get onto the letters, there are some questions I need to ask you. First, can you tell me a bit about the relationship between your late mother and your wife. From information gathered already, there seems to have been some sort of animosity between the two of them. Can you tell me about that Mr Phillips?’
‘Well, I don’t think there was any real animosity. At least no more than what you would expect between two strong-willed and headstrong women. Suellyn looked in on her occasionally to check to see if she was all right and coping on her own.’
‘And how did your mother cope living on her own, Mr Phillips?’
‘Well, it appears not very well, doesn’t it? The house is in bad shape. It’s pretty run-down and she was living there without electricity. But of course, you would already know that.’
‘Can you tell me about your relationship with your mother and when you saw her last?’
‘I didn’t have a relationship with my mother I’m ashamed to say. I haven’t seen her for years. We had a falling out over a family misunderstanding.’
Rimis scribbled down a few notes in his notebook and left William sitting on the lounge. He walked into the kitchen to where Jill and Suellyn were drinking coffee. Brennan was leaning against the kitchen bench, talking to Suellyn, playing the role of ‘soft cop.’ Brennan left Rimis to do his job and went to join William in the lounge-room.
‘I’m not asleep. If that’s what you were wondering.’ William opened his eyes and unfolded his arms from across his chest. His feet were resting on the coffee table and his legs were stretched out in front of him. Jill smiled and sat down in the lounge chair opposite him. The apartment was tastefully decorated. The walls were covered in original artwork, rich red and royal blue Persian rugs were thrown across the glossy white tiled floors. The painting above the dining table was an Arthur Boyd. The pair sat in silence, neither of them knowing what to say to each other.
Rimis began his questioning. ‘Mrs Phillips, I'm going to have to ask you some questions about the death of Rose Phillips. Anything you say or do will be recorded. Do you understand that?’
Suellyn replied that she did, surprised that she was being given a formal caution.
‘Can you tell me your full name and address for the record, and your movements between the hours of one pm and seven pm on the 20th May this year?’
‘Is this really necessary?’ she asked as she picked over a bowl of pistachios on the bench.
‘Yes, Mrs Phillips, this is necessary. This is a police investigation and we are trying to establish the facts.’
‘We’re supposed to be discussing these letters I found, aren’t we? Isn’t that why you’re here?’
‘Please just answer my question Mrs Phillips.’
‘I don’t have to answer him do I, William?’ Suellyn called out to William at the top of her voice. ‘Look, it’s up to you Mrs Phillips, if you don’t want to talk to me here, we can take you down to the station and ask the same questions there.’
Before Rimis and Brennan arrived, William had warned her that she should just state the facts and tell the police everything she knew. He warned her not to get emotional.
‘Okay, okay, if you really must know, I was out with a friend. We went shopping all afternoon and then went on to have dinner at Eccos in the city. I remember the date because it was Rosalind
’s birthday.’
Suellyn picked up her coffee mug and realising it was almost empty, swirled the burnt coffee grinds around in the cup before putting it back down on the bench. She glared at Rimis. ‘Are you accusing me of something Detective? I think it’s Tommy Dwyer you should be speaking to, not me.’
‘Mrs Phillips, the questions I’m asking are all relevant to our investigations. We have to carry out the enquiry into your mother-in-law’s death and we have to do it as we see fit, we have to explore all the possibilities. Now, can you tell me about Tommy Dwyer and what your relationship with him was at the time of your mother-in-law’s death?’
‘That’s a personal question. For Christ’s sake, who doesn’t know about me and Tommy Dwyer?’ Suellyn corrected her posture and slapped her thighs hard with the palms of her hands. She stormed across to where Nick Rimis was standing on the other side of the kitchen and looked him square in the eye. ‘Can I ask you something now Detective Senior Sergeant?’ Suellyn emphasized the Senior Sergeant.
‘Certainly Mrs Phillips, please, go right ahead,’ he replied in a frosty voice.
‘Is this how you go about investigating a death? Asking uninvolved people unnecessary questions?’
‘Mrs Phillips, I don’t have to justify our investigation to you. We’ll be conducting interviews with numerous people who were associated with Rose Phillips.’
‘Well, I’m not going to help you do your job. You go figure out who killed her if you think she was murdered. And I want those letters back,’ she screeched. ‘Tommy didn’t kill her, he wouldn’t do something like that. I know him too well. I made a mistake of accusing him of... well, I don’t really know what I was accusing him of. I probably shouldn’t have involved William in all of this. I’m so mixed up, I wish I...’
‘Suellyn! That’s quite enough. Stop raising your voice, it won’t get you anywhere.’ William was standing in the kitchen doorway. He reached out and grabbed his wife by the shoulders and shook her.
‘All right, Mr Phillips.’ Rimis thought it was time to diffuse the situation. He lowered his voice and put on his ‘good cop’ voice. ‘Mrs Phillips this probably isn’t a good time for you. You are obviously upset by your mother-in-law’s death but this is an ongoing investigation and we may need to talk with you at some later time.’
‘You should be investigating real suspects instead of wasting your time on us detective. We were Rose’s only family you know. Now, is that all?’ Suellyn demanded. ‘My husband will show you and your colleague to the door.’
Nick Rimis realised he was wasting his time trying to get any sense from this strung out woman. He felt sorry for her husband and wondered how he put up with her. Rimis looked at William almost sympathetically when he saw the look on his face. ‘Thanks for your time Mr Phillips. We’ll be in touch soon.’
William showed the two detectives to the door and closed it firmly behind them.
‘Well, that went well didn’t it, Sarge?’ Jill said sarcastically as she pressed the call button for the lift.
‘My gut feeling is that there is a lot more to Suellyn Phillips than what she wants us to think. If you ask me, I’d say what we just witnessed was a clever piece of stage acting.’
‘Do you really think she was acting, or is she just a neurotic bitch?’
‘Now, now Brennan, language. And to answer your question whether I think she was acting, only time will tell. But one thing I do know, we need to pay Mr Dwyer a visit and it might be a good idea to get hold of the post mortem records for Mrs Dwyer.’
‘I’m one step ahead of you, Sarge. I’ve already put in a requisition for the PM records. We should have them by tomorrow.’