The Autumn Murders
Page 26
‘Of course,’ Joe said, although the prospect of dinner with Inspector Lambert seemed unlikely. Over the days since his resignation he’d come to terms with what he took to be a simple fact — that Inspector Lambert would prefer not to set eyes on him again. He was a junior officer who hadn’t lived up to his promise. He was an error of judgement.
Helen Lord had always been wary of Maude Lambert. When Inspector Lambert had first seconded her to the newly formed Homicide department, she’d had lunch with Mrs Lambert, and she’d felt that she was being auditioned, or vetted, and that if Mrs Lambert disliked her she’d be returned to her previous position. Helen couldn’t deny Maude’s intelligence, or her astuteness. Still, the idea that Maude had been granted the right to judge her had struck her as an impertinence and presumptuous. The Maude Lambert who came to lunch seemed to her to be a very different person. She was warm and amusing, and the almost twenty years that separated her from most of the people at the table were of no consequence.
Helen had suspected, from watching and listening to Joe, that there was more to his resignation than he was letting on. Maude’s presence confirmed this, and the way she reached out at one moment and closed her hand over the back of Joe’s hand, made Helen’s wariness of her evaporate.
At the end of the meal, they stood and raised their glasses to the portrait of Peter Lillee that dominated the dining room. Once they’d sat down again, Helen said, ‘I have news. I’m resigning from the police force.’
‘Oh, Helen, no,’ Maude said.
‘I am, Mrs Lambert.’
‘But you’re one of the best brains they’ve ever had.’
‘Thank you. I agree.’
Clara laughed.
‘The Victoria Police for the most part — there is one honourable exception — isn’t interested in a brain when it is inside a woman’s head. I don’t have to suffer those fools any longer, thanks to Uncle Peter. If I have to suffer them in the future, it will be on my terms.’
Ros Lord rose from the table and came back with a sheaf of paper. She handed one sheet to each person. They each read the letterhead.
Helen Lord and Associates
Private Inquiry Agents
Suite 4, 45 Albert Street
East Melbourne
It took a moment for this to sink in.
‘I’ve rented a suite, and within a week, I’ll be fully registered, thanks in no small part to Inspector Lambert, who has used his influence to remove any official barriers. I presume you knew that I’d asked for his help, Mrs Lambert?’
‘Well. Yes, I did, and I told him I’d divorce him if he hesitated for a moment. He didn’t.’
‘This is a new start, and I can afford to do this the way I want to do it.’
‘It says, “Helen Lord and Associates”,’ Guy said.
‘I don’t have any yet.’ She paused. ‘But I’m hiring, if anyone at this table is interested.’
The End
Acknowledgements
FIRST AND FOREMOST, thank you to Helen Murnane, the wisest of readers. I also want to thank the community of my fellow writers, especially Jock Serong, Tony Thompson, Angela Savage, Sulari Gentill, and Greg Pyers. Thanks to Henry Rosenbloom, who cares deeply about books, and to everyone at Scribe, all of whom share his passion. And finally, thanks to my editor, Anna Thwaites, who hates being called brilliant, but she is, and that’s all there is to it.