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Authors: Katherine Howell

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BOOK: Deserving Death
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Mark was leaning an elbow on the bar, a schooner in his hand, talking to a solid man in a suit. He smiled when he saw her. ‘Carls.’

Carly hugged him. His body was lean, his arms around her thin. He made her think of her dad, far away in Townsville, and she squeezed him tight. With her eyes shut she could almost believe it.

‘Buy you a drink?’ he said in her hair.

She let him go, blinking hard. The liquid in his glass was clear. ‘Lemonade?’ she said. ‘You’re still working tonight?’ He’d been rostered on with Alicia.

‘What else’ll I do – sit around home thinking?’ He motioned the barman over.

‘Sav blanc,’ she said. ‘Thanks. Tessa here yet?’ She couldn’t spot her in the crowd.

‘She’s on her way.’ Mark handed her the glass, then said, ‘You know Andrew, right? Used to be in the job, worked all round the city.’

The man in the suit smiled and put out his hand. Carly shook it. He did look a little familiar now she thought about it. ‘You used to be around the inner west, right?’

‘For a while, many moons ago,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry about your friend.’

‘Thank you,’ Carly said.

She looked around the room, seeing familiar faces everywhere. Glasses were raised to her and wordless nods exchanged. Some people had been here for quite a while, that was clear. She felt overwhelmed by the people and the noise. When she’d come here after Maxine Hardwick’s death it’d felt like home; a place where so many of them had spent so much time after classes and exams and graduation ceremonies over so many years. Today it felt wrong.

‘Heard anything about the investigation?’ Mark asked.

‘No.’ She’d keep her suspicions to herself. For now anyway. ‘You?’

‘There was stuff on the news about whether it’s linked to Maxine, but nothing from the cops themselves.’

‘They took footage from the street cameras outside Castro’s,’ Andrew put in. To Carly’s questioning look he said, ‘I work in the council’s CCTV control room.’

She said, ‘Should you be telling anyone about that?’

‘I don’t see why not. Everyone knows she was there. It was on the news.’

‘I mean, I’d’ve thought there’d be confidentiality issues with your job.’

‘We’re all friends here,’ Andrew said.

She looked away irritably. It wasn’t just him; the noise and press of people got right under her skin, and she realised it seemed less like a memorial for a murdered colleague and friend than an excuse for a piss-up. The get-together for Maxine hadn’t felt like that. Was it her closeness to Alicia made everything seem so coarse? She didn’t want the drink now. She didn’t want to be here. She shouldn’t have come. If Tessa wasn’t here, what was the point?

Mark said, ‘Saw your face on a bus today.’

Great.

‘I saw them too,’ Andrew said. ‘Fantastic idea. The community always forgets about paramedics. It was the same when I was in, before I stuffed my back. They never think about us until they need us. But I see on the CCTV how relieved people are when you guys turn up. It’s a good thing if we can remind them to think about it on ordinary days too.’

‘I assume that was the plan,’ she said, looking across the crowd at the back of a woman’s head. The hair was the same. Was it Tessa?

Carly took out her phone and dialled Tessa’s number, pressing the phone hard to her ear so she could hear it over the crowd, hoping to see telltale movement from the woman.


Hi, this is Tessa. Leave your message and I’ll decide later if I want to call you back.

‘It’s me,’ Carly said after the beep. The woman hadn’t moved. ‘I’m at the Grove, as you can probably hear. Just wanted to see if you’re on your way, if you’re okay.’

She put her phone away, still watching the back of the woman’s head. She wore a white shirt and the black strap of a handbag ran over her shoulder. If a phone rang in a bag, you wouldn’t necessarily feel or hear it in a place like this.

Mark started to speak but she cut him off. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said, and started to push through the people.

‘Bye,’ Andrew said behind her. She didn’t turn or reply.

People said her name as she squeezed past them and she nodded but didn’t speak. Finally she reached the woman and touched her shoulder. The woman turned with an enquiring look. It wasn’t Tessa.

‘Sorry,’ Carly said. ‘I thought you were someone else.’

The woman smiled. One of the men she was with leaned close to Carly with a grin. She recognised him: he worked at Summer Hill or somewhere, and was an arse.

He said, ‘We’re here for you.’

It was a line from the TV ad.

‘Thanks,’ Carly said, as if she hadn’t guessed what he meant or where he’d got it from, as if he might be saying it out of compassion instead of cheek.

‘I mean it.’ He grasped her arm with a clammy hand. ‘We’re here for you.’

He even used the same intonation. She’d practised it in her flat before the mirror, getting the words just right, her expression just so.
Don’t blush, whatever you do.

‘Cheers,’ she said, pulled her arm free and walked away.

‘We’re here for you!’ he called behind her.

Someone told him to shut up, but Carly was already turning back. Enough was enough.

‘Kyle, right?’ she said. ‘You’re an idiot.’

He pursed his lips, an angry glint in his eyes. ‘Fuck you.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Fuck you. I found my friend murdered yesterday morning, the friend we’re supposed to be remembering here, and you’re acting like it’s all a joke. So fuck
you
.’

The pub had fallen silent. She must’ve been shouting. She looked around. People lowered their eyes from her glare.

She got out of the pub and into her car without punching anyone, and then sat squeezing the sides of the seat, fighting tears and trying to think what to do. Maybe she should just go home, take it easy. Leave it to the cops. It was their job, right?

In the rear-view she saw Tessa climb out of a taxi and cross the street to the pub, her bag swinging by her hip, silver heels sparkling on her feet.

Carly thought for half a second then got out and followed her.

Thirteen

E
lla and Murray ate their late lunch of takeaway sandwiches beside a park around the corner from Ben Trevaskis’s flat in Bondi Junction. The sun shone in on Murray’s side of the car so they kept the engine and aircon on.

Murray balled up his sandwich paper and turned the vent into his face. ‘I guess it might be odd for civvies to tell one another they’re innocent, but not so much for cops.’

Ella looked at him. ‘Really? I think it’s even weirder when it’s cops. It’s like he’s spelled it out like that so that when we talked to Green, as Morris knew we would, Green could trot out the line.’

Murray shook his head. ‘It’s more like he’s just getting everything clear. Like he’s saying to Green – to himself even – this is the situation, this is where I stand in it.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘It feels too smooth, too organised.’

*

Carly eased back through the pub door. That fool Kyle was facing the other way, thank goodness, holding forth to his mates about some garbage or other. She slipped through the crowd to the bar. Andrew was still there, middy glass in hand, but Mark was gone. She couldn’t spot Tessa either.

‘You’re back,’ Andrew said.

‘Did Mark leave?’

He shook his head. ‘Bathroom.’

Carly looked in that direction through the crowd and caught a glimpse of Mark talking intently to someone. To who? She rose on the balls of her feet and saw Tessa. Their heads were close together, Mark talking, talking, Tessa listening, then shaking her head, then speaking just as quickly and fiercely back at him. Red spots flared high on her cheeks. He grasped her shoulder and she shook him off.

‘Sad day,’ Andrew said behind her. ‘Can I get you another drink?’

She didn’t answer, watching as Tessa stormed off to the women’s bathroom and left Mark standing alone. He rubbed an ear, his eyes distant, then turned to come back to the bar.

Carly headed for the bathroom herself. Mark spoke to her as she went past but she didn’t answer. In the bathroom, one cubicle door was closed and locked. The air was cool and smelled of disinfectant. The sound of the drinkers was muffled.

‘Hey,’ Carly said.

Tessa said, ‘Really?’

‘You haven’t been answering your phone. I just want to make sure you’re okay.’

‘Oh, sure.’ Tessa flushed and came out, flinging back the door so it bounced off the cubicle wall. She wrenched on the tap, splashing her white shirt and jeans. ‘Jesus.’

Carly took a deep breath. ‘Why did you lie about Robbie being at Castro’s and John Morris being outside the station?’

Tessa grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. ‘I didn’t lie about Robbie. They asked about weirdos and I said there weren’t any.’

‘About John then.’

‘Because that was none of your business.’

‘But it could be the cops’ business,’ Carly said.

‘And I told them all about it this morning.’ Tessa balled the paper towels and threw them into the bin. ‘Happy now? Anything else you want to know? My bra size?’

Carly stared at her. ‘What were you and Mark arguing about just now?’

‘Again, none of your business.’

‘Alicia is dead.’

‘You think I don’t fucking know that? You think that fact leaves my mind for one fucking second?’

‘Then tell me what’s going on,’ Carly said.

‘Nothing’s going on.’

‘You lied, and you’re arguing with Mark, and –’

‘And nothing,’ Tessa interrupted. ‘You’re not the only one grieving and angry around here, you know. We’re all fucking upset. We’re all fucking on edge. It doesn’t mean that anything’s going on.’

She shoved past Carly and out of the room. The noise of the crowd washed in for a second, then the door eased shut. Carly didn’t believe Tessa for a moment. She’d come in here to talk, to find out the truth, and got nowhere.

She went back out to the bar, and touched Mark’s arm. ‘Have they found someone to work with you tonight?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I guess so.’

There was a good chance they hadn’t. There was so much overtime it was getting hard to give away. Often Control either ran people single or waited until the shift started then teamed up the loners all over the city.

‘I’ll do it,’ she said.

Mark looked at her. ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay home, take it easy?’

‘What’m I going to do there – sit around thinking?’

He gave her a weak half-smile.

‘I’ll ring Control now,’ she said, and stepped outside with a sense of purpose.

*

Ben Trevaskis came to the apartment door stretching and yawning. His brown hair stood up on one side and his blue shorts and T-shirt looked flung on.

He nodded when they told him their names and gestured into the flat. ‘Come in. Have a seat. Can I get you a tea or coffee?’

‘No, thanks,’ Ella said.

He’d been sleeping before nightshift, he said, moving a single chair to sit opposite where they were on the lounge. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows on knees, face attentive. ‘How can I help?’

Ella said, ‘Did you know Alicia Bayliss?’

‘I met her a few times,’ he said. ‘She seemed like a nice girl. I was sorry to hear that she died.’

‘Did you ever see her argue with John?’

‘Once or twice, I suppose. Couples do, after all.’

‘What about?’ Ella said.

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Was John ever violent towards her?’ Murray asked.

‘No way.’

As if he’d ever say yes, Ella thought. ‘What did John tell you about the break-up?’

‘I got the feeling he wasn’t happy for a while before that,’ Trevaskis said. ‘Like she’d ring and he wouldn’t answer, and they didn’t go out together as often. Then he wanted to go to this party and she said she was busy, so he said okay, and went anyway. Then she changed her mind and turned up, right when this other girl had latched herself onto him.’

Poor John, Ella thought.

‘Alicia went off, said that was it,’ Trevaskis went on. ‘Dumped him on the spot.’

‘Did he try to talk to her later, sort things out?’ Murray asked.

‘No. He was done, he said. They ran into each other at work a couple of times after that, and he said he’d be friendly and she snubbed him. He figured she’d get over it sometime, but either way it was no skin off his nose.’

‘When did you last see him?’ Ella said.

‘Sunday night,’ Trevaskis said. ‘We watched TV and had a couple of drinks. He left about midnight.’

‘You’re not sure?’

‘I can narrow it down a little.’ He took the TV guide from the coffee table. ‘The UFC special was on until midnight. He left a few minutes after it ended.’

Ella looked at the page.

‘What time did he get here?’ Murray asked.

‘Just before it started.’

‘Seven,’ Ella said.

Trevaskis motioned to the big flatscreen beside him. ‘John doesn’t have pay TV.’

Ella glanced past the TV to the small white-railed balcony, and the walls of apartment blocks and Eastgate shopping centre bright in the sunshine beyond. These young unfamiliar cops made her feel old and out of the loop.

‘You and John big fighting fans?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘It’s something to watch.’

‘Do you fight yourself?’

‘I’ve done boxing training at the gym but I didn’t enjoy it much. I prefer the treadmill, the rower, that sort of thing.’

‘What about John?’ Ella asked.

‘He likes it, hitting those bags. It’s a regular thing for him.’

‘Is he planning an actual fight?’ Murray said.

Trevaskis shook his head. ‘He’s not into it like that. Just likes the training.’

Ella said, ‘So on Sunday night, were the two of you here alone?’

‘Yes, but I think a neighbour heard him leave,’ Trevaskis said. ‘I went downstairs with John when he left because I’d forgotten my phone in my car, and when I came back up the old guy across the way was at his door complaining about the noise.’

‘What’s his name?’ Ella said.

‘Richard, I think. I don’t actually know him. We only talk when he’s complaining about noise.’

‘Have you talked to John since then?’ Murray asked.

Trevaskis nodded. ‘He called me yesterday to tell me about Alicia.’

‘And how was he?’ Ella said.

‘Stunned. Shocked.’

‘Upset?’

‘Not really. I mean, they’d been broken up for a while, but also he doesn’t show his emotions easily. If he was upset he’d keep it to himself.’

‘What else did he say?’ Murray asked.

‘That he’d been interviewed, that he knew he was a suspect, but he didn’t do it.’

Ella fought the urge to glance at Murray. ‘How did he sound when he said that?’

Trevaskis shrugged. ‘Pragmatic, I guess. Not surprised anyway.’

They finished up with him, then knocked on the door across the hall. Ella wanted to say things to Murray but she knew Trevaskis was probably lingering behind his door, watching and listening.

The peephole in front darkened. ‘Not interested,’ a male voice said.

Ella held up her badge. ‘Detectives Marconi and Shakespeare. May we have a word?’

The door opened. A man in his sixties wearing a velour tracksuit looked out. ‘If I can see that properly.’

She put the badge in his outstretched palm. He inspected it then handed it back. ‘What’s this about?’

‘Firstly, what’s your name, please?’ Ella said.

‘Richard Axford.’

‘Were you home Sunday night?’ Murray asked.

‘I was.’ He ran his hand across his thinning hair.

‘Hear anything unusual?’ Ella said.

‘No.’

‘How about noise from your neighbours?’

‘That’s not unusual,’ he said. ‘The fellas in the flat there were making their usual racket. Went until midnight, can you believe it? I collared the one when he came back up, Ben, I think it is, and said how about having a bit of decency, a bit of respect for his fellow man? How’d he like it if I made noise when he was trying to sleep?’

‘What did he say?’ Murray asked.

‘He said he was sorry. That was something, at least.’

‘You said fellows,’ Ella said. ‘Did you see who he was with?’

Axford’s mouth twisted, then he stepped back and motioned them inside before closing the door behind them.

‘I don’t like his friend, the other young man,’ he said. ‘I think his name’s John. I spoke to them once before about the noise and he just looked at me as if he didn’t care and he wanted to be sure I knew it. On Sunday I saw through the peephole that’s who was there, so I waited until I knew he was gone before I went out for a word.’

‘You saw him leave?’ Murray said.

Axford nodded.

‘What time was that?’

‘Ten after midnight.’

‘Did you see him arrive?’

‘I heard it,’ Axford said. ‘He hammered on the door and shouted, “Police! Open up!” Then his pal opened it and they laughed like it was some big joke. That was at seven. Then there was five hours of hooting and hollering at whatever they were watching on the idiot box. I tried to sleep but I had no chance.’

‘You know that they are police?’ Murray said.

‘I’ve seen them both in their uniforms.’ Axford shook his head. ‘You’d think that police would be the most upstanding people of all. No offence to you both.’

‘And you’re sure this was Sunday,’ Ella said.

‘Absolutely.’

They thanked him and left.

Once downstairs, Ella said, ‘Bondi Junction to Coogee is what, five, ten minutes?’

‘I guess.’ Murray looked thoughtful.

‘Even less in the middle of the night, with no traffic.’

‘Sydenham would have to be at least fifteen minutes though,’ Murray said. ‘Fifteen or twenty there, and the same back.’

‘Green admitted he was guessing when he said twenty past,’ Ella said. ‘Meaning he doesn’t actually know. Or he’s deliberately fudging.’

Murray scraped his bottom teeth over his lip.

‘Morris had a shower when he got home too,’ Ella said.

‘So do I,’ Murray said. ‘Doesn’t mean I killed anyone.’

‘Whatever,’ Ella said. ‘He’s not off the hook.’

She was about to start the car when her phone rang.

‘We’ve got an ID on the unconscious blond,’ Dennis said. ‘He has a record you need to hear.’

BOOK: Deserving Death
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