Cold Justice (25 page)

‘Sorry.’ Georgie pulled it shut again. ‘Can you get up, or move back from the door so I can open it?’

‘No.’

‘We’ve tried that already,’ the man said.

‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, just stuck.’

‘You can move all your arms and legs?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did you end up on the floor?’

‘She slipped off the toilet,’ the old man said. ‘She’s done it before. She knows she’s not supposed to close the door but today she did.’ He raised his voice at the wood. ‘And now look what’s happened.’

‘It’s okay.’ Georgie started feeling the hinges in the gloom.

Freya’s eyes had adjusted now and she could make out the closest painting. It was a big boxy pig, staring out at the viewer with the knowledge of the abattoir in its eyes. She shivered.

Her phone rang. Georgie shot her a look. Freya walked back to the front door and answered.

‘It’s me,’ Dion said. ‘I’m sorry. I got your number from the next of kin form in James’s new staff paperwork.’

‘I’m at work.’ Freya turned her back to Georgie. ‘I’ve only got a minute.’

‘Freya,’ Georgie called.

‘Hang on a second,’ Freya said to Dion.

‘Freya!’

‘What!’

Georgie pointed at the portable on Freya’s belt. ‘You need to call police rescue.’

Freya stalked down the hall, twisted the radio out of its socket and thrust it at her. She heard Georgie mutter something as she walked away but ignored it.

Dion said, ‘Have you heard anything more about the letter?’

‘There’s been a phone call as well,’ she said in a low voice. ‘She told them again that it was the people who hate her but she doesn’t think they believe her.’

‘Who else can it be coming from?’

‘I can’t think of anyone,’ Freya whispered. ‘It has to be them.’

Silence. Then Dion said, ‘That old lady.’

‘She died.’

‘I know that,’ he hissed, ‘but maybe –’

‘Freya,’ Georgie called.

‘Hang on,’ she said to Dion, and turned around. ‘What?’

‘I need your help. If you’re not too completely flat-out busy.’

That was one snarky tone. Freya said to Dion, ‘I have to go.’

‘You don’t think –’

‘No, I don’t,’ she said. ‘Look, it’ll blow over soon and we’ll be fine.’

She hung up and walked down the hall, trying to be calm. They wouldn’t find out. Nobody knew except her and Dion.

She reached Georgie. ‘What do you need me to do so urgently?’

‘Wander downstairs in about ten minutes and meet rescue.’

Freya looked at her.

‘Problem?’ Georgie said.

Freya bit back her reply. They both knew they weren’t supposed to use their phones while on a case. Georgie had her fair and square. ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘Anything I can do in the meantime?’

‘I don’t think so.’

The old man had brought a chair to sit on and watched as Georgie tapped on the door. ‘People are coming to help us get the door off, then we can get you out of there,’ she told the woman.

‘Okay,’ came the quavery reply.

Freya gazed into the eyes of the sorrowful pig and felt like she too was awaiting her fate.

When Ella and Murray got back to the Unsolved office they opened the file to Tim’s schoolfriends’ names and took two each to enter into the database.

‘Finished,’ Ella said a moment later.

‘Your computer’s newer,’ he said.

‘Suck it up,’ she said. ‘Whatcha got?’

‘Steven Franklin did six months for drug offences in the late nineties, apparently clean since, now lives in Stanmore. Christopher Patrick is just coming up now . . . he has no criminal record and lives right here in Parramatta. You?’

‘Damien Millerton – he’s the guy who reckoned he was closest to Tim and who mentioned the gay thing that nobody else said they’d heard of – lives in Cherrybrook and has no criminal record. Gareth Wing died in a car accident three years ago.’

Murray looked at his watch.

‘There’s no way I’m working late,’ she said.

‘Your mum’d kill you, I know. I was thinking we could call them and see where they work then plan to hit them up tomorrow.’

Ella was already dialling Millerton’s home number. A machine picked up after six rings. ‘Thanks for calling the Millertons. We can’t take your call here and now but why not try our mobiles?’ She scribbled the number given as Damien’s.

Murray put his hand over his phone. ‘I’m onto Franklin’s stoner flatmate. He’s gone to see if he’s in.’

‘Hope he remembers to come back.’ Ella dialled Millerton’s mobile.

‘Hello?’

‘Damien Millerton?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is Detective Marconi of the New South Wales Police,’ she said. ‘We’d like to speak to you about Tim Pieters.’

‘Oh.’

She waited a moment. ‘Tomorrow morning suits us best.’

‘Is this necessary?’

‘Yes, it is.’ She pulled a face at Murray.

‘It’s just that I’m really busy.’

‘We’ll try not to take too long.’

He was quiet.

‘Is there a problem?’ Ella said.

He sighed. ‘It’s okay. Do you need me to come in?’

‘We can come to you, save you time. Where do you work?’

‘From home.’ He rattled off his Cherrybrook address. ‘Early would be good.’

Ella glanced at Murray, who sat with his eyes closed and the phone clamped to his ear, looking about as far from making an appointment as it was possible to be. ‘Let’s say nine. See you then.’

When she hung up Murray opened one eye. ‘Not happy?’ he said.

‘He’s reluctant for some reason. You still waiting?’

‘I can hear him singing. Can’t make out the song though.’

She looked at her watch.

‘You go,’ he said. ‘I’ll give this guy two more minutes then call the other one.’

‘Sure?’

He nodded. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Ella was almost home when her mobile rang. She pulled over to answer.

‘Is this a bad time?’ Callum said.

‘Not at all. How are you?’

‘Up and down,’ he said. ‘I talked to Uncle John today.’

Ella wound up her window to hear better. ‘What about?’

‘I told him that I remembered something else from the barbecue, that Tim was angry before any of the arguing started.’

‘Angry about what?’

‘I don’t know, and John said he hadn’t noticed,’ Callum said. ‘Then I, uh, asked him if Tamara blames him for Tim’s death.’

Whoah!
‘What did he say to that?’

‘He said he actually blames himself, and I feel terrible because my immediate thought was that he did something to him,’ Callum said. ‘But why would I think that?’

Because you suspect he really did?

‘I’m not sure,’ Ella said. ‘You sound like you’ve thought about it a lot since then, though.’

‘I can’t stop. I think maybe it’s because I knew he was something of a suspect at the time. Then I’d thought about you asking if Tamara was angry at him, and why she might be. And when he said he blamed himself, I just . . . I don’t know. The thought was suddenly there.’

‘Did you say anything?’

‘No, I had to go, and I was glad to get away,’ he said. ‘I was ashamed. I felt like it was written all over my face.’

‘Hmm,’ Ella said.

‘What?’

‘You said you remembered that Tim was angry before the arguments.’ Ella hesitated. She didn’t want to put ideas into his head, but if there was a clue there she wanted him to winkle it out. ‘I wonder if you noticed something else at the time? Something that you haven’t quite remembered yet but which is on your mind all the same?’

Callum was quiet for a moment. ‘I suppose it’s possible.’

Her phone beeped with another call.

‘After all, I did remember that he was angry first,’ he said. ‘I could even see him trying to talk to Uncle John, and Uncle John wasn’t listening.’

‘There you go,’ she said. The phone kept beeping. ‘Don’t force it, and see what bubbles up. Listen, I’m really sorry but I have to go. Let me know if anything surfaces, okay?’

‘I will. Thanks.’

She looked at the screen. ‘Hi, Mum.’

‘Just checking you’re still coming over,’ Netta said. ‘We’re so excited about meeting Wayne at last!’

‘Me too,’ Ella said. ‘And I’m not just saying that.’

‘See you in an hour!’ Netta sang.

Wayne accepted the plate. ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Marconi.’

‘Please, call me Netta.’ Her mother patted his shoulder. ‘There’s plenty more if you’re still hungry after.’

He looked at the mound of food. ‘I’ll see how I go. Thanks.’

He smiled across the table at Ella, and she smiled back until she saw his gaze drift past her to the framed photo of her at eleven that her parents had brought out of the spare bedroom just for the occasion. She looked at them.
Are you trying to embarrass me?

Franco put his hand on hers. ‘It’s so nice to have you both here.’

Netta handed the rest of the plates around and sat down. ‘It is. Just lovely.’ She picked up her knife and fork and nodded at Wayne. ‘Eat up. Big strong man like you, you must be hungry after working hard all day.’

‘He spent the day in the office,’ Ella said. ‘I was out and about though.’

Netta nodded. ‘Both so busy. Lucky you have me to cook for you.’

Ella eyed her mother.
Do not go there
.

‘Thank you again for planting the roses,’ Netta said. ‘It’s so nice that you’ve got something growing in Ella’s garden now.’

Wayne nodded, his mouth full.

‘There always was stuff growing there,’ Ella said.

‘I mean proper plants,’ Netta said. ‘Not just grass and weeds.’

Ella’s phone rang. She put her hand on her pocket. Wayne looked at her.

‘Is that your other boyfriend?’ Franco said with a grin. ‘Didn’t you tell him you were busy tonight?’

Netta slapped his arm playfully. ‘Leave them alone.’

The phone kept ringing. Ella dropped her gaze from Wayne’s and brought the phone out under the table. It was Callum. She put her thumb on the answer button but didn’t press it. She felt Wayne’s eyes on her still. She put the phone away, and it stopped ringing then a moment later the voicemail alert beeped. Wayne laid down his knife and fork and sat with his elbows on the table and his fingers interlocked at his chin. She couldn’t escape his eyes.

She pointed behind herself. ‘See that photo? I was an elf in the Christmas pageant.’

‘She wanted to be an angel,’ Franco said. ‘Never seen anyone cry so much.’

‘Sobbed and sobbed,’ Netta said.

Wayne still hadn’t picked up his cutlery.

‘Interesting pageant actually,’ Ella said. ‘For a sort-of Catholic school, I mean. That we had Santa and so on there.’ She felt herself blathering and reddening.

He didn’t say anything.

‘You’re not hungry?’ Netta said. ‘It’ll get cold if you leave it too long.’

He raised his eyebrows at Ella.

She tilted her head back. Then she took the phone out, ignored the little envelope on the screen, and turned the thing off.
Happy now?

He picked up his fork. ‘This is delicious, Mrs Marconi.’

Netta smiled back, her head on one side. ‘You think so?’

‘Absolutely.’

Ella pressed her fingers to her eyes.

She drove away from her parents’ house with Wayne waving out the window. The instant he wound it up she said, ‘I didn’t appreciate that.’

‘I guessed as much.’

‘It’s my phone and it’s my life.’

‘But are you really living it when your total focus is work? When you can’t even turn the thing off when you go to your parents’ place for dinner?’

She rested her wrists on the wheel. ‘It’s just because of this case.’

‘But there’s always another one, then another one. The job will consume your life if you let it.’

That didn’t sound so bad.

‘It’ll consume you as well.’

He really had no idea. She was the one in control. She hadn’t turned the phone back on, even when she went to the loo. She knew there was a message from Callum and she wasn’t checking it. Were they the actions of somebody being consumed?
I don’t think so.

At her place he stood on the step.

‘Are you coming in?’ she said.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘Do you want to?’

‘You answer first.’

She put her hands on her hips. Her bag swung against her leg. She felt the corner of her phone bump her knee.

‘I want to,’ he said.

‘Good. Me too.’ She held the door open for him.

Inside, she put her bag down and poured them each a glass of red. He plumped up the cushions on the lounge. ‘Next bit of
The Wire
?’

‘Sounds good.’

She put the glasses on the coffee table and sat down. He fired up the DVD player and sat beside her.

‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry if you thought I was being controlling.’

‘You’re sorry if I
thought
that?’

He picked up the remote. ‘I’m sorry if I was being controlling.’

‘You were.’ She took it off him and pressed play.

‘Is my apology accepted?’

‘I’ll think about it.’ She settled back into the lounge. He took her hand and started to massage her palm. ‘Sucking up won’t help.’

‘So you say.’ He kissed the tip of her index finger.

She stared at the TV. From the corner of her eye she could see his head bent over her hand. Beyond him, her bag beckoned from the kitchen table, and possible reasons for Callum’s call ran through her head.

‘I’m just concerned about you,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen people get eaten up by the job. It’s not pretty.’

‘I know,’ she said.

‘The way you are makes you a great copper but also puts you at risk. You get so into it, you let the case take you over. You haven’t even been doing your physio exercises.’

‘Sometimes I do them at work,’ she lied. The little message envelope glowed yellow in her mind. ‘Let’s just watch, okay?’
And think . . .

He lay back with her hand against his chest. Ella kept her eyes on the TV but imagined Callum out there waiting for her to call him back.

He squeezed her hand. ‘Hear that?’

‘What?’

‘What Lester just said to McNulty.’

She focused on the screen. ‘Yeah.’