by C T Mitchell
“Why so, Barbara?”
“A BDM doesn’t visit our brokers, Mr. Creed. We have local reps that check in on them. A BDM needs to find new business so as to bring in more money.”
“Speaking of money, I believe there was a little trouble with the superannuation payments to staff?” Jack queried. “And I understand Jody approached a Board member about it and then put the screws on to get a Board seat.”
“Jody Green on the Board. No way!” Barbara fired back with vengeance. “I’ve seen plenty of these 40-something career women with the short mini skirt and plunging necklines flashing all before them. Mutton dressed up as lamb, my father would have said. A fox in a fur coat with no knickers was another one of his favourite lines.” Barbara took several deep, calming breaths before adding in more her natural, calm tone: “I daresay Jody Green is an attractive woman, Detective, and may have seduced Nick from time to time, but he was a shrewd man. Nick would have used her for his own means: just sex. There is no way the Board would have given Jody a seat. They are not as easily led as our Nick was.”
CHAPTER 8
The clock was ticking and Jack Creed was no closer to solving this case.
With coffee in hand, Jack shouldered his way through the back door of the Kingscliff Police Station, being as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Head down, he tried to slip past Jones and McGeary, believing they were engrossed in some in-depth conversation about last night’s game. Unfortunately, Jones’ booming voice lassoed Jack about three meters down the hallway. “The Chief Super wants to see you straight away, Jack.”
With a flick of his head in disgust, Jack slipped into his office to put down his coffee, straighten his tie, give his Italian leathers a quick rub behind his calves and to dump his coat.
“Good morning, Chief Superintendent, I believe you wanted to see me?” Jack attempted to sound polite, but he knew full well why he was being summoned.
“What’s the latest on the Turner case?” Pringle asked, while knowing the answer. He loved poking holes in cases, especially Jack's. It was the only way he was able to one up him in the police force.
“We’ve got a few leads but nothing solid, sir.” Jack hated every second he was in the room with Pringle, even more that he was forced to call him 'Sir.'
“Well, speed things up.” The Chief Super ordered. “What I hear is that you have a suspect in Dwayne Rogers, yet you’ve let him walk based on a flimsy alibi. This is not good for the Board, Jack. It's hurting business. They're breathing down my neck, so wrap it up. Or else.”
Jack was tempted to ask, “Or else what?” but refrained.
“We can’t convict a man just because he is gay, sir,” Jack said. “This is not the 1950s. Perhaps your board member friend should be looking in his own backyard before casting the first stone, sir.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean, Creed?”
“What it means is we know Dwayne Rogers has a verifiable alibi,” Jack said. “Nick Turner seemed to be running a financial basket case. I’m surprised a Knox Grammar-educated board member would not have picked up the mess the company is in. Even blind Freddy could see that it is almost insolvent…sir.” Jack resisted the urge to grin as Pringle became more and more agitated by his mocking use of the word 'sir.' “What we’ve got is a playboy CEO with a crippled wife who was pantsing every good looking female staff member on the promise of a promotion and more pay. The oldest promise in the book, sir.”
“Yes, yes, Creed, but that’s just your theory,” Pringle said. “We need facts. You need to wrap up this case quickly before any more damage is done to Sovran. It’s all over town, and it’s bad business for the Resort as well. Guests are cutting short their holiday and heading home early. And quite frankly it’s bad for us, too. It makes us look like the Keystone Cops.”
“I’m sorry some of the jetsetters are having their latte sipping, Quinoa salad brunches interrupted while I investigate a murder, sir, but I am not going to rush this through so some 1950s-minded Board can string up a gay bloke from the nearest tree.” Jack mock bowed and tipped his imaginary hat to the Chief. “Good day, Chief Superintendent. I hate to say, but I must leave you now. I just remembered the best place to dig up some dirt on the company is in the field – specifically with disgruntled people. We are going to chat with Jody Green again.”
CHAPTER 9
Jody was busily pacing around the conference room in the hotel, directing staff where to place chairs for the incoming delegates while chatting on her mobile when Jack and Jo entered the room. She held up her index finger in an 'I'm busy' signal before continuing her conversation and ignoring the police. “Yes, darling, I’ll meet you by the pool in half an hour. We’ll have lunch then. Okay, okay, I’ve got to go. Heaps to do. Bye, bye.” She hung up with a stern and somewhat startled look on her face.
“Men, why are they so needy?” Jody oozed out while staring at Jo. A raised eyebrow with a sheepish look confirmed Jo understood exactly what Jody was bitching about. Jo had dated some pretty needy guys in her time; it would be good to find one that exuded confidence and knew exactly where he was going. But in and around Cabarita Beach, her chances were slim.
“Well, this detective needs to talk with you,” Jack said. He consulted his notes. “I believe you used to work with Francesca Portelli, the Customer Relations Manager for Sovran?” Jack asked in an open ended way, hoping to get Jody to freely talk.
“Yes, I did up until she was fired,” Jody said. “I suppose you know that she brought a sexual harassment claim against Nick?”
“Yes. Tell us more. We're looking for a motive, Jody, and that could be it.”
“Well, the company settled out of court and Francesca’s role was terminated,” Jody began. “Nick created a new role for me as Business Development Manager and he promoted Kelly into the customer relations role.”
“I believe you and Nick traveled together a bit?” Jack asked. At Jody's nod, he continued his line of questioning. “What has me curious is how a CEO of a large financial services company like Sovran can do week-long road trips around Victoria, like the one you both did together about three months ago in Ballarat?”
“If you're insinuating Nick and I were having an affair, I can assure you our business trip was perfectly legitimate, Detective.” Jody frowned. She wasn't as cool and composed as before. Good.
In Jack's experience, if you get them flustered, you get them talking. “My role is to bring more brokers on. We were a bit light in the region, so it was opportune to do a road trip. Having the CEO with me sends out the right message to any potential new recruits that this company’s CEO cares and is available. Nick was a hands-on CEO, Detective Creed. If that’s all, I’ve got work to do. ” Jody stormed away, effectively ending the interview right then and there.
Jo looked over at Jack. She raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'Can you believe this?' when just ten minutes before she was all sympathy for Jody's weak men plight. “What next?”
“Some cracks are appearing,” Jack said. “I just want to check something with Dr. Russell about how Nick was struck. After that, we should finally have our answers.”
CHAPTER 10
Once more Jack and Jo strode into the hotel lounge looking for answers from Barbara Johnson, but this time they knew exactly which questions to ask. Dr. Russell said Nick Turner's fatal wound was distinct, like a fingerprint. Based on the location of the wound, the perpetrator was without a doubt left-handed. Now all they had to do was find out if anyone in the company was left-handed and if they had any sort of grudge against their now deceased CEO.
“Detectives, we really must stop meeting like this,” Barbara teased as Jack and Jo sat down at her table. “Judging by your expression, Mr. Creed, I believe you are closer to solving the case? Please, if I can be of assistance, fire away with your questions. I'll answer as best I can.”
“Ms. Johnson, , who would be liable for the $2 million loss Sovran had suffered under Nick Turner’s stewardship?” Jack asked.
“The Board, ultimately. Each member would be personally liable to repay the debt if called upon,” Barbara said.
“Was there any board member particularly stressed about the idea that they may have to repay?”
“Well, not really now, as we’ve turned a corner, but Brian Tanner and his fellow West Australian director Terry Skinner jumped up and down a bit. Brian is married to an awful woman, Felicity, who was running around shooting her mouth off about the state of the company and highlighting Nick’s indiscretions with Chloe Baker.” Barbara frowned at the memory.
“The woman is as dumb as dog shit, if you don’t mind me saying so, Detective. Brian was a fully paid up member of the lonely hearts club when he stumbled upon Felicity, who was living in a caravan in a park owned by one of Brian’s mates. As soon as she laid eyes on Brian, and let me tell you at 5’4” both high and wide, bald and with a dress sense that makes Carmen Miranda look drab, he’s no oil painting, yet Felicity latched on like a bear trap in the woods. Brian was her meal ticket out of Slumsville and within three months they were married.”
“Did Brian feel pressured by Sovran’s loss?” Jack repeated.
“Not fully,” Barbara said. “Brian has got plenty, but Felicity was definitely adding to the pressure. She was going around and speaking to some of the other brokers, especially their wives, about the financial trouble the company was in and how Nick was dipping his pen in the company ink, so to speak. Dreadful woman. No class.
It wasn’t until Brian pulled her aside and read the riot act about how she could not only sink Nick Turner and Sovran, but how they would be liable, that she actually shut up. Well, for five minutes, at least. The woman is trailer trash and you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, can you, Detective?”
“And what about Terry Skinner? Are any of these men left-handed?”
“Terry is Brian’s puppet. Brian says jump and Terry says how high. I don’t think Terry has much behind him. A couple of divorces have cleaned him out. Not very lucky in love is our Mr. Skinner.” Barbara smiled wryly. Jack could see she didn’t have much time for Mr. Skinner. He only wondered why she did not think of this connection earlier.
“Was he left-handed?”
Barbara tilted her head to the side and squinted as if she was trying to pull up some half-forgotten memory of which hand Brian held his fork with or swung a golf club with. “Yes. Yes, I do believe he is. Is there any particular reason you're asking, Detective Creed?”
Jack opened his mouth to tell her, before quickly shutting it. Barbara may have been Nick's confidant, but he wasn't about to compromise the case just because a pleasant enough lady asked him to. “Never mind that, Ms. Johnson.” Jack was all business again. “Just let us know if you remember anything else, will you?”
CHAPTER 11
“One person we haven’t really considered is Prue Turner,” Jo offered the next day. In less than twelve hours, the businessmen and woman would go back to where they came from and Nick Turner's murder would grow cold unless they solved the case and fast.
“Prue?” Jack wasn't convinced.
Jo held up her hands as if to ward off a verbal attack. “No. No, I'm serious. She definitely would have the motive. A playboy husband, lots of scrutiny about the financial state of the company, and I suppose a flood of rumors about Chloe Baker. If I was a woman stuck in a wheelchair, I reckon I’d feel threaten by a thirty-something blonde, even if I did think she was a bimbo.”
“And how do you reckon this wheelchair-bound jealous wife killed our Mr. Turner?” Jack asked. “By running him down in her wheelchair from afar? Remember she was never here, Jo.”
“She could have hired a hit man,” Jo suggested. “Heavens, it’s been done before. I’m sure a nice insurance payout would ease her sorrow, plus it would be goodbye Chloe Baker. Sounds like a good hypothesis to me.” Jo crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you have something better to go off of, Jack?”
“Hit man takes planning,” Jack said. “Our killer was more of a spur of the moment sort of person. It's a textbook crime of passion. They either really loved or really hated Nick Turner. That love turned to hate or jealousy and out comes the golf club.”
“Which is why it makes perfect sense that Prue hired a hit man.”
Jack opened his mouth to dispute the idea more, but was interrupted by the shrill ringing of his mobile phone. He checked the caller ID. It was Barbara Johnson. Jack hit 'talk.' “Evening, Ms. Johnson. How’s the conference coming along?” He tried to sound causal but probably failed miserably. Casual and Jack Creed didn't usually go hand in hand.
“We’re getting there, Detective,” Barbara said. “Our delegates arrive tomorrow and there’s still heaps to do. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
“Go on,” Jack prompted.
“Poolside happy hour took quite a turn after you left.” Barbara laughed. “Jody Green and that squirt of a boyfriend of hers, Marco Rossi, had an almighty row. It was only while I was fixated on what this twerp was saying that I noticed he was waving his drink in a vigorous manner at Jody...in his left hand, Detective.”
“Thank you, Ms. Johnson, you've been most helpful.”
“That's not all, Detective,” Barbara cut him off. “This tirade stirred up something else in me. I remember distinctly returning from the ladies toilet last Saturday night on my way back to the dinner room when I saw Marco slipping out the side door of the hotel foyer, heading toward his and Jody’s room.”
“What time was this?” Jack sat up straight and leaned over as if Barbara were sitting across from him instead of talking to him on the phone. He planted his feet flat on the floor, back straight, and leaning slightly forward with his elbows on the desk. Jo raised both eyebrows and mouthed, 'Our big break?' Jack waved her aside with only a nod and 'tell you later.'
“9.15pm,” Barbara said confidently. “I remember because the dessert drop happened at 9.30pm. That’s how I organized things with the hotel. Entre at 7.30, a choice of beef or chicken mains at 8.30, and dessert at 9.30pm with coffee and mints.”
“And where was Jody during all this, Ms. Johnson?”
“Well, that was the funny thing.” Jack imagined Barbara frowning, trying to put all the pieces together of the night that took Nick's life. “She was still at the awards dinner. In fact, she presented an award after that. When I asked her about Marco, she said he was getting an early night because he had a headache.”
“And Nick Turner?” Jack asked eagerly. “Where was he during all this?”
“Oh, he had already left,” Barbara said. “Nick is, I mean was, a non-drinker. He did his duty and left early. Nick was great about making appearances, but once the alcohol started flowing, he always called it a night. It’s well-known amongst staff. They knew he wouldn’t be around after 9, so they can really kick their heels up.”
“Thanks, Ms. Johnson. I appreciate your call,” Jack said. “Let’s keep this to ourselves, though, shall we? The less Jody and Marco suspect we know about them, the better. It gives us the element of surprise.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Barbara agreed. “Shall I distract them if I notice them trying to skip out of the hotel?”
“That won't be necessary,” Jack said. “Jo and I will be there in ten minutes with a search warrant in hand.”
CHAPTER 12
Jody Green opened her hotel room door to Jack's loud knock. She looked surprised, instinctively trying to retreat back inside the room before thinking better of it and opening the door wider. “Detective Creed. What a pleasant surprise.”
Jack held out the search warrant. “We're going to search your room and here’s our warrant.”
Jody looked behind Jack to Jo, as if expecting some support from her ‘weak men girls club pseudo-buddy.’ She'd be waiting forever because Jo's loyalty was with Jack and no one else. “What is this in regards to?”
Jack pushed his way into the room, followed by Jo and two guys from the station that handled combing through stuff once a search
warrant was executed. “What do you think it's in regards to? Nick Turner is dead. You or someone you know may have helped him along to that early grave. Now step aside, Miss Green. We have work to do.”
Jody reluctantly stepped aside. Marco came in from the balcony to see what all the commotion was about. “I was wondering when the cart and pony show would come to our door.” He took a sip from his drink like he didn't have a care in the world. “Don't rummage around too much, constables. You'll wrinkle my clothes. Don't think I won't send you the dry cleaning bill.”
“Don't think I won't cuff you right now for interfering with an investigation,” Jack snapped.
“Jack! We found something!” Jo turned with a business sized white envelope in her hand. “It looks official, but more than that, it looks important.”
Jody's mouth twitched as if her poker face was about the crumble. She was clearly startled if not surprised. Jack pulled the letter out of the envelope and read it out loud.
“Dear Ms. Green,
We wish to confirm the results of your recent pregnancy test carried out at this clinic on 7 April is positive.
We estimate your pregnancy to be 12 weeks advanced.”
Jody's poker face finally crumbled. “I–I never knew. I mean, I suspected, but I didn't have the confirmation till now. Where did you find that? I thought it got lost in the mail.”
“Try lost in Mr. Rossi's suitcase,” Jack said once the constable confirmed that's where they found it. “Care to explain why you would hide such important information from the supposed love of your life, Mr. Rossi?”
Marco's cool exterior melted away like the ice cubes in his drink glass. His hand shook as he ran it through his hair. “We were trying to have a baby together, though I didn't know Jody visited the fertility clinic. The letter arrived last Friday, I opened it, saw the news, was ecstatic like any proud father to be would be...but then I checked the date.” Marco waved his hand.