Deserving Death (7 page)

‘Seriously though,’ Delancey was saying, ‘if you do know of anybody. I hate to think of her growing old and alone.’

‘She’s twenty-eight,’ Carly said.

‘Exactly. By the time she finds someone, settles down and falls pregnant, she’s going to be well into her thirties.’

‘Younger pregnancies are so much better,’ Zoe put in. ‘I’m so glad I had Maya when I did.’

Two-year-old Maya was at daycare today. Carly knew her schedule because Linsey paid half the rent on her flat – owned by Bradaghan Property – in hours of childcare. Not that she considered it work.

‘Perhaps she’ll meet someone here,’ William said.

‘Not much chance of that.’ Zoe curled her lip and nodded towards the door where two men had entered, holding hands and carrying a toddler.

They all watched the family go to the counter.

‘It’s the kiddie I feel sorry for,’ Delancey whispered loudly.

Carly rubbed her pounding forehead.

‘Society is changing,’ William said, placing his knife and fork together on the plate.

‘Not for the better,’ Benjamin said.

‘We can’t help that,’ William said. ‘But we do have to live in it.’

Delancey was still looking at the little family. They crossed the room to a table and sat down. She tightened her lips, then beckoned to Linsey over Carly’s head. ‘Darling, come and sit for a moment.’

‘I’m working,’ Linsey said.

‘Just one moment,’ Delancey said.

Linsey came to stand between her mother and Carly, wiping her hands on her long black apron. Carly felt her foot push against hers. She nudged back gently.

Delancey took one of Linsey’s hands in her own. ‘Sweetheart, look at your poor skin. Your nails. There’re no dishpan hands in the office.’

‘I like my job,’ Linsey said.

‘You’d make more money,’ William said. ‘And you could hardly call this a career.’

‘Not that we want you to go back to the social work,’ Delancey said.

Linsey pulled her hand free. ‘I’m happy here.’

‘Good, good,’ Delancey said. ‘Too much stress in social work.’ She lowered her voice and cast a glance towards the gay family. ‘And some people just can’t be helped.’

Carly bit the inside of her cheek.

‘Mum,’ Linsey said, pressing her knee hard against Carly’s leg.

‘I know, I know,’ Delancey said. ‘You love everybody, I know. Some of us have a different view of the world.’

A group of people came in and Linsey smoothed her apron. ‘I have to get back to work.’

‘We should go also,’ William said.

Delancey laid a cool hand on Carly’s arm. ‘It was so nice to see you again.’

Carly smiled and nodded. ‘You too.’

They straggled out the door, Linsey seeing them off with a wave. She came back to Carly, her face still tight.

Carly put out her hand but Linsey didn’t take it. ‘Let me make sure they’ve really gone.’

Carly didn’t answer. It was like being a spy – watching your back, behaving differently in public, thinking about who might be looking. She put her forehead in her hand. She was tired. She was so tired, and everything was shit, and Alicia was dead.

Seven

T
he store where Robbie Kimball worked was part of a mega-complex covered with signs in bright primary colours declaring SALE! and LESS FOR CASH! Ella and Murray went through the glass doors to be greeted by a young woman with an artistically lopsided haircut and a slapped-on smile. ‘How may I help you today?’

Ella showed her badge. ‘Robbie Kimball, please.’

The smile didn’t budge. ‘Just one moment.’

In a minute she was back with a young man in tow. He looked to be in his early twenties, his brown hair needed a trim, and his round face wore no smile at all. Ella had looked into him already. He had no criminal record but had trouble driving within the speed limit.

‘You Robbie?’ Murray said.

‘Yep.’ He tugged at the ID card on the lanyard around his neck and glanced at the girl. She moved a few steps away – still within listening distance, Ella noticed. He said, ‘This is about Alicia, right?’

‘Where were you last night?’ Ella asked.

‘At Castro’s.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Having a few drinks with my mates.’

‘Who did you see there?’

‘My sister and her mates. I said hi. They said hi. I offered to buy them drinks. It was one of their birthdays.’ He frowned as if unsure of the grammar then went on. ‘I was really sorry to hear that Alicia died.’

‘How did you find out?’ Ella asked, though she already knew.

‘Tessa rang me when she was there, at her house.’

‘Why you?’ Murray said.

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes you want your family.’

‘Did you see anything strange while you were in the club?’ Ella asked. ‘Guys leering or making a nuisance of themselves?’

‘Nope. Nothing.’

‘What time did you leave?’

‘Twelve, twelve thirty. Somewhere around there. I’d had a few so I can’t be sure.’

‘Where’d you go?’ Ella said.

‘Home. I walked. I share a house with some mates in Surry Hills.’

‘Talk to anyone on the way?’

‘Not that I remember.’

‘Anyone awake when you got in?’

He shook his head.

‘How well did you know Alicia Bayliss?’ Murray asked.

‘I’ve met her a couple of times and said hi. That’s it.’

Ella said, ‘Tessa didn’t tell us initially that you were there. Why would that be?’

‘I guess she didn’t think it was important.’

‘You guess.’

‘I can’t think of any other reason,’ he said.

Hmm.

Murray opened his notebook. ‘Tell me the names of your mates, both those at the club and the ones at home.’

Robbie sighed.

*

They bought sandwiches at a cafe near the whitegoods store and ate them in the car. Murray drove towards Marrickville, where they would interview Dave Hibbins’s girlfriend at her place, while Ella phoned Dennis and read out the names of Robbie Kimball’s housemates and the friends he’d been with at Castro’s.

‘None have records,’ Dennis said, after a moment of typing. ‘I’ll add them to the list of people to be interviewed.’

‘How’s it going with the Castro’s CCTV?’ Ella asked. She’d told him earlier what Szabo had said, and had since persuaded herself that a clear image of the blond man who’d hassled Bayliss wasn’t too much to hope for.

‘Sharp and Watkins are on their way now, so I should hear soon.’

‘Fingers crossed,’ she said.

Clouds were gathering when they knocked on Amber Jacobson’s door. She opened it and eyed them and their badges, then let them into her flat. She lived on the third floor of a newish building overlooking Marrickville Road and the noise of the traffic came through the open windows with the midday breeze. She was twenty-five, she said, and had known Dave Hibbins for five months through work. ‘But we only got together recently.’

‘Have you spoken to him today?’ Ella asked. The pastrami and salad was repeating on her. She swallowed a burp.

Jacobson hesitated. ‘He rang earlier. He said you’d probably come over.’

It was what Ella had expected. At least she’d admitted it. She looked honest. Ella knew that didn’t always mean much, but she liked to see it. She liked to imagine that the world still contained people who’d tell the truth.

‘What happened here last night?’ Murray said.

‘Dave came over and we had dinner – Indian – and watched a DVD.’ Jacobson pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. The wide neck of her shirt slipped off her shoulder and she tried to shrug it back on.

‘What time did you start watching it?’ Ella said.

‘Late. Ten or so.’

‘What time did he arrive?’ Murray asked.

‘Six. Around there.’ She’d given up on the shirt. Her bare shoulder was tanned.

‘You ate dinner for four hours?’ Murray said.

‘We also, uh, went to bed.’ She blushed. ‘The dinner and movie were after.’

‘What time did he leave?’ Ella asked.

‘About quarter to twelve. We’d both fallen asleep, then I woke up as the movie was finishing. Then he went home.’

‘And this morning you slept in,’ Ella said.

Jacobson nodded.

‘Had Dave been in touch today before he called to say we were coming?’ Ella asked.

‘He texted this morning,’ Jacobson said. ‘At about eight. I didn’t hear it but I saw it when he called.’

‘What did it say?’ Murray asked.

‘That he’d had a great time, and he asked me to call him when I woke up.’

‘Would you have done so?’ Ella said.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Because you didn’t have such a good time?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Why?’ Murray asked.

Jacobson took her hands from her pockets and sat down. ‘I’m starting to think it’s not going to work. He’s not . . . I don’t know. I went out with a guy once who was seeing someone else at the same time. It almost seems like that. Like he’s not fully here with me.’

‘Like he’s thinking of someone else?’ Ella said.

Jacobson nodded.

‘Has he ever talked about Alicia Bayliss?’

‘Only today when he rang. He said he used to share with her and she was killed last night, and that’s why you were talking to him and would be talking to me.’

‘He never mentioned her before then?’ Murray asked.

Jacobson shook her head.

‘Had you ever met her yourself?’ Ella said.

‘I work in the wards and we don’t get to meet many paramedics there,’ she said. ‘They occasionally come up for patient transfers, but I never know their names.’

‘How was Dave when he left here last night?’ Murray asked.

‘Yawning. We kissed goodbye at the door and I heard his car go a few minutes later.’

‘Did he say he was stopping anywhere on the way home?’ Ella said.

Jacobson shook her head. Her gaze switched back and forth between them. ‘Do you think he had something to do with Alicia dying?’

‘What makes you say that?’ Ella asked.

‘He said that’s how you made him feel.’

‘Do you think he could’ve had anything to do with it?’ Murray said.

‘No. I think he’s a nice guy. I don’t know that I want to keep going out with him, but I can’t see him hurting anyone.’

*

Ella and Murray left Amber Jacobson staring thoughtfully out the window, and called Dennis from the car.

He told them that the fourth friend in the group, birthday girl Hannah Dodds, wasn’t at home when detectives went there, but had later turned up at Bayliss’s house bearing coffee and cake, then started screaming in the street at the news. She was being looked after by Detectives Aadil Hossain and Jen Katzen, and she didn’t know about the blond man in the club or anything else suspicious.

‘Speaking of, Castro’s is a no-go,’ he said. ‘Manager’s insisting on a warrant, and I can’t see that we’ll get one today.’

‘Damn,’ Ella said.

‘And nothing’s come up on the street canvass so far. I called the LAC about the neighbourhood too. There’s been a number of recent break-ins, robberies, assaults, though no more than usual apparently. But they’re checking out the local scumbags and perverts and seeing who might be recently out of prison.’

It was good to be working with Dennis again, her friend who took things seriously, who listened and thought through every angle. It was also nice to know that Homicide’s previous boss, Langley, was now in Computer Crime, a place she had no intention of ever going.

‘I’ve tracked down Noela Cross and left a message on her phone,’ he said. Cross was the probationary officer who’d made the complaint against John Morris. ‘With a bit of luck she’ll call back soon. Meantime, I’ve arranged for you to see the CCTV from the city street cameras. You never know.’

You never did. Ella hung up and pointed straight ahead. ‘Let’s go, Batman.’

Eight

T
he cafe got busy. Carly sat in the hum of people placing orders and talking and laughing like it was an ordinary day. Linsey kept glancing up from behind the coffee machine as the queue in front of it grew. Carly clenched her hands and made herself breathe and wait.

It felt like an age later when Linsey touched her shoulder. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Carly looked at the counter. Jo smiled at her.

‘Jo’s staying so I can go with you.’ Linsey took her hand and pulled her gently to her feet. ‘And you can tell me about your crappy morning.’

They stepped onto the footpath hand in hand, but within a few metres Linsey let her go.

Carly glanced around the street, then at Linsey. ‘They’re long gone.’

‘Just in case.’ Linsey was biting her lip, her face anxious. Carly hated that look, the worry in her eyes, and today it hurt for other reasons too.

‘You know they’ll find out eventually,’ she said.

‘Can we not do this here and now?’ Linsey said, eyes front. ‘Can you just let me get you home and take care of you?’

Emotions fought in Carly’s heart. She wanted to be looked after, to be held close, to be made a hot bath and a cup of tea, listened to and comforted. But Linsey’s treatment of her stung. The time she needed her most, she held herself back. Carly understood why but struggled with the pain and anger. She wanted to say something cruel, to hurt Linsey just as she’d been hurt.

She felt Linsey’s gaze on her and said, ‘Alicia’s dead. Murdered. That’s why I came here. I needed you.’

‘Oh my god.’ Linsey went white with shock, her eyes filling. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Carly felt an instant stab of remorse. She loved her. Why do this? Why break it to her like that? She let the back of her hand touch Linsey’s as they walked.

‘I’m so, so sorry, Carly. I had no idea.’ Linsey’s voice was choked. ‘God, if I’d known that, I would’ve . . . would’ve . . .’

Carly blinked back her own tears. ‘You would’ve just felt bad. There was nothing you could do.’

‘I could’ve told them, and held you.’

It was the emotion talking. Linsey couldn’t have done that, and they both knew why.

Carly said, ‘It’s okay.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Linsey said again. ‘Have you talked to Chris? Does he know?’

‘The cops said I couldn’t phone. They said they’d tell him and her mum and dad.’

‘Oh god, Carly.’

They walked in silence for a moment, then Carly said, ‘It wasn’t just that. Something weird’s going on with Tessa.’ She told Linsey about John Morris coming to the station then picking Tessa up. ‘Tessa lied to me about it and I can’t understand why.’

‘You think they could be seeing each other?’ Linsey said. ‘She might feel weird about it because he and Alicia broke up so recently.’

‘But she also didn’t tell the detectives that her brother was at the club last night.’

Linsey looked at her. ‘You can’t be thinking she’s somehow involved?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. Because why lie about who was at the club, and who was at the station door?’

‘But she’s friends with Alicia,’ Linsey said.

‘But why lie?’ Carly said again.

They didn’t speak for a block, then Linsey said, ‘I do get what you’re saying.’

‘I’m not sure I know what I’m saying,’ Carly said.

The backs of their hands touched again.

Linsey said, ‘We’ll be home soon.’

*

The control room for the city council’s CCTV system was tucked away in a grey multistorey building in Surry Hills. The supervisor was waiting in the foyer. He was a solid man in his mid-forties, a dark suit jacket buttoned snug around his middle, black shoes with a sharp shine, light brown hair trimmed short.

‘Detectives Marconi and Shakespeare,’ Ella said. ‘You’re Janssen?’

He nodded. ‘Your boss told me this is about a homicide?’

‘Yes.’ That was all the detail Dennis would’ve given him about the death and all Janssen would get out of them too. The curiosity in his eyes could stay there.

‘Follow me.’ The supervisor headed down a corridor. He walked with a slight limp. ‘What exactly are you after?’

‘Footage from the street outside Castro’s nightclub, taken last night,’ Murray said.

‘That’s no problem at all.’ He sounded confident, all business. He ran a swipe card through a reader and pushed open a door. The big room they entered was dim, most of the light coming from the multiple screens on the consoles and on the wall. Ten people sat typing on keyboards or speaking into headsets. On the screens Ella could see all over the city: outside the town hall, at Circular Quay, in the heart of The Rocks. Footpaths bustled with pedestrians and traffic stopped and started with the lights.

Janssen sat at an empty console. ‘What’s the time frame?’

‘Between eight and half past in the evening,’ Ella said. They’d see if anyone harassed Bayliss on the street or appeared to follow her in. ‘And then between midnight and one.’

He started to type. Murray moved away a few steps to watch the work of another operator, a wiry woman who manoeuvred a joystick on her console, her eyes fixed on the screen before her. Ella saw she was zooming in, and recognised the street corner as one in the Cross.

‘Now what are you fellas up to?’ the woman murmured.

On the screen three teenage boys huddled together. Ella saw their hands move as something was passed furtively between the first and second, then the first boy walked off in one direction while the others headed the other way along the footpath, talking with their heads together, the second one looking down into the pocket of his hoodie at what he held there.

Janssen glanced at the screen. ‘They think they’re invisible.’

‘You report that stuff?’ Murray asked.

‘Absolutely. The computer sends it straight through to you people, and we keep a log and details of the recording too.’

‘How close can you get with that zoom?’

‘Pretty damn close,’ the wiry woman said. ‘I’ll show you.’

She made the camera follow a car along the street, close enough to see the numberplate and even the heads of passengers in the back seat.

‘Of course, we need to be able to account for everything we zoom in on,’ Janssen said. ‘Stops operators perving, that sort of thing.’

‘Is perving a problem?’ Ella said.

‘Potentially perving, I should’ve said.’

The woman zoomed out and again the screen showed a wide angle of the street.

Murray looked mesmerised. ‘Man, you can see it all. You’re like a little god in here, watching over everything.’

‘It has its drawbacks,’ Janssen said, eyes on his own screen as he typed. ‘It’s fine to see something happening and be able to call for help for someone, but then you’re watching and waiting for that help to arrive, and seeing the assault continue or the person lie on the street, maybe dying or unconscious. It can actually make you feel powerless.’

‘I can imagine,’ Murray said.

‘Here we go.’

Janssen’s screen showed the street outside Castro’s nightclub. The headlights of passing cars flared white, and people moving on the footpath were dark figures.

‘Night is never as good as day,’ he said, tweaking the joystick to zoom in on the club’s door. The recording was faster than real time, and people walked jerkily in and out, stood around smoking, hugged and kissed. The time in the corner ticked forward. ‘Did you have a more specific time?’

‘Try from quarter past eight,’ Ella said.

Janssen tapped keys and the screen blurred, the time whirring forward, then he slowed it down again. People came and went, and at eighteen past they saw a taxi pull up. Bayliss, recognisable by her long light hair and the short black dress, got out then walked to the door and inside. She didn’t appear to be in a rush, nor did she stop to speak to anyone around her. Nobody looked to be paying her special attention either.

‘The other time?’ Janssen asked.

‘Start at quarter past midnight,’ Ella said.

They watched people walk in and out of the club again, mostly in pairs, sometimes singly, a couple of times in groups. An aircon vent was blowing directly onto the back of Ella’s neck and she covered her skin with one hand while watching the screen and the time. Elsewhere in the room she could hear someone relaying details of an assault in progress in The Rocks.

They appeared at twelve forty-three: five women stepping out the club’s door.

‘Aha,’ Murray said.

Alicia Bayliss pranced down the footpath. The group moved away from the camera, one looking back up the street – Carly, Ella thought – and raising an arm for a taxi. Ella stared at the door and the footpath behind the women. A few people wandered out of the club, some standing there to light up, two coming towards the camera and disappearing underneath it. A big man with dark clothing and a mop of light hair stepped out, his attention on his phone, and then stood looking in the direction of the women before setting off after them.

‘Tall and blond,’ Murray said.

Ella was too busy watching to reply. The women hugged. Two got in the first taxi that pulled up and the other three climbed into the second. The man slowed his walk. The taxis pulled out and the man stepped to the kerb to wave down one of his own.

The women’s taxis were still in shot when the man’s accelerated away from the kerb. At the top of the screen the first taxi turned right and drove out of view, while the second kept going straight ahead. The hair rose on Ella’s arms as she watched the man’s taxi follow, speeding up as if to make sure it wouldn’t lose the car ahead.

‘Get that numberplate,’ she said. ‘Get it now.’

*

Carly woke from an exhausted sleep. Her eyes were sore and the pillow was still damp. She could hear Linsey trying to be quiet in the kitchen, and smell cake cooking. The afternoon sun shone on the red-tiled roof of the house next door and the Pikachu sticker left by the previous tenant on her window. She tried to steer her thoughts away from Alicia’s last moments of terror and pain, and Chris’s pain to come.

She heard Linsey at the door. ‘I’m awake,’ she said.

Linsey got on the bed and snuggled up. ‘Your phone rang twice. Hannah then Kristen.’

‘Nothing from Chris?’

‘I guess they haven’t told him yet.’ Linsey smoothed Carly’s hair.

Carly stared out the window. She should call the girls back, or listen to their voicemails at least. Hannah had been due to fly to her family in Adelaide. Carly wondered whether she’d still gone. Probably.

Her mobile buzzed.

Linsey reached behind her to the bedside table and looked at the screen. ‘It’s Chris.’

Carly took it and sat up. ‘Chris, I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s Nico, sweetie.’ Tears in his voice. ‘Chris is in hospital. He got chest pain when they told him. He’s okay now and they don’t think it’s a heart attack, but he’s all wired up to machines and they won’t let him use the phone. He told me to call you.’

Carly put her forehead in her hand. ‘I wanted to tell him myself but the police wouldn’t let me.’

Linsey pulled the quilt up around her bare shoulders and tucked it down her back.

‘He understands, sweetheart. He thanks you for being there. He sends his love. We’ll be there as soon as the doctors let him go. And Lorraine and Albert and Dan are on their way already.’

‘We love you both,’ Carly said. ‘And tell him I’m sorry.’

‘Love you too, darls, and you have nothing to be sorry for.’

Carly put the phone down and wiped her eyes. ‘Chris is in hospital. Chest pain. Alicia’s parents and other brother are coming up today.’

Linsey hugged her tight.

‘Nico said Chris thanks me for being there.’

‘I can understand that,’ Linsey said.

‘I didn’t help her though. I didn’t do anything.’

‘What could you do?’

A cloud moved over the sun and the red roof outside the window went dull. What could she have done? Alicia was already dead when she got there. But there’d been that moment last night when Kristen had started to speak about something weird that’d happened and Alicia shut her up.

She called voicemail and listened. Hannah in tears, saying she’d dropped in to Alicia’s on the way to the airport and found cops everywhere. She wanted her mum. She’d still be in the air, Carly calculated. Kristen, flat, robotic, saying she’d told the cops about a big blond guy who’d hassled her and Alicia in the club, and that’s what Alicia had shushed her about, and if it turned out to be him she’d never forgive herself. She was going to the beach for a swim and to decide whether to go to work that night.

Carly rang her back but got voicemail. ‘It’s me. Just checking in.’ She imagined Kristen diving under green waves, trying to ease the pain with churning sand and tidal pull. ‘I know how you feel, but you couldn’t have done anything.’

She hung up, and Linsey pulled her close, kissing her bruised wrist.

The roof next door brightened again as the cloud passed and it made Carly think of the photos of Tuscany that Nico had shown them when he and Chris had been here last. ‘My cousin’s villa,’ he’d said, and they’d talked about going there together, the four of them and Alicia and whoever she decided to bring. That night, driving home, she and Linsey had started planning, Carly adding up her long service, Linsey excited about getting her first passport. ‘And by then I’ll be out,’ she’d said, ‘and everyone’ll come to the airport to see us off.’

What could I have done?
Carly asked herself again. What could she do now? She thought of Robbie’s appearance at the club, and Tessa’s suspicious behaviour, both about that and about John Morris.

Linsey snuggled closer. ‘Your skin’s cold.’

‘I’m okay,’ Carly said, as a plan started to form.