Hindsight (9781921997211) (19 page)

Ed had been so focused on the battle Cass was having at his feet that he hadn't noticed that they had an audience. He suddenly realised how strange it must look.

‘No, she'll be all right in a minute. It's a type of epilepsy,' he lied.

This was met with doubtful looks. One of them pulled out his mobile and started to dial.

‘I'm a police officer,' Ed said. He fished around in his pocket for his badge and flicked it out. The young man with the phone came over and had a look. He didn't seem satisfied but he stepped back.

While he was sorting out the onlookers, Cass went still. He looked down. She was staring sightlessly at the sky. Another surge of panic hit him. He knelt down and lifted her head and shoulders off the ground, resting her against his legs. He felt for a pulse. The steady throbbing against his fingers was a huge relief. He looked at her chest, it was rising and falling almost imperceptibly as she took shallow breaths. ‘Cass? Cass, can you hear me?'

He picked her up and carried her over to their car. Struggling to balance her weight, he managed to open the door and slide her inside. He wound the seat back so that she was lying down and ran around to the driver's side and climbed in, puffing from the effort. He cranked up the heat again then sat there helplessly, stroking her hand, waiting for her to come back from wherever she was. He was still sitting there when a police car pulled into the car park and stopped in the space right next to them.

‘Shit, shit, shit,' he muttered, watching the two officers climb out and come around to his side of the car. Their eyes took in the prone form of Cass next to him and he could tell he was going to have to do some serious explaining.

He wound down the window. ‘Hello officer, I'm Detective Dyson, from Fairfield.' He handed over his badge. ‘This is my friend Cass. She wanted to come and see the university grounds but unfortunately she's had a fit, she's epileptic.'

‘You're a long way from home, Detective Dyson. I'm PC Glen Noakes and this is PC Julia Harding.'

‘Are you all right, miss?' PC Noakes called.

While Ed had been focused on the two officers, Cass had finally come to. She was dazed and shocked but aware enough of what was happening to realise that she had to hold it together.

‘I just need to rest,' she whispered.

The two officers looked at her closely. She managed a thin smile.

‘I'll be fine. Ed will look after me.'

‘OK, we'll just go over and speak to those students. If you could wait please?' Harding said.

Noakes stood by the car while Harding went over to the students still huddled next to the blue van.

‘They're just making sure. They're worried that I might have hurt you and you're too afraid to say anything,' Ed said under his breath. ‘Don't worry, we'll be out of here in a couple of minutes.'

Harding finished talking to the students and walked back to join her partner. She leaned in the window.

‘Sorry, detective, just had to be sure. You look after her now. She looks like she needs some rest.'

‘No problem, you have to do your job. If there's nothing else we'll be on our way?'

‘Yes, that's fine, have a safe trip.'

Ed started the car and they pulled slowly out of the car park. He watched the two officers return to their car. Harding picked up the radio as soon as she got in.

‘They're still checking. She'll be radioing in my details and rego right now just to make sure I'm legit. Can't blame her, I'd do the same thing.'

Cass nodded mutely.

‘What can I do, Cass? Do you need another coffee?' Ed asked.

‘No, just take me home. I'll fill you in on what I saw then. Right now, I just need to rest.' She leant back and closed her eyes. Ed pulled over to the side of the road and took his jacket off. Gently, he laid it over the top of her.

‘Thanks,' she whispered.

Ed drove through the city, navigating what was now peak-hour traffic. He'd just hit the beginning of South Road, which was bumper to bumper, when Cass startled him by speaking. He'd assumed she was asleep.

‘It was the same man, and she recognised him,' she murmured.

He waited for her to say more, but she didn't. When he had a chance to look at her she still had her eyes closed and a minute later he heard her gently snoring. She slept and he drove, pondering what this new development might mean. If the vic knew the killer then there was a good chance they might be able to track him down.

‘We're gonna get you, you sick fuck,' he hissed through clenched teeth.

PART THREE

Agamemnon:
The gods fail not to mark

Those who have killed many.

The black Furies stalking the man

Fortunate beyond all right

Wrench back again the set of his life

And drop him to darkness.

Aeschylus,
Agamemnon

CHAPTER

21

After we left Adelaide I could barely keep my eyes open, I was so exhausted. I'd never had two visions in one day and the aftermath was crushing. I couldn't think, I couldn't move and I could barely speak. I was too exhausted even to cry.

As soon as we left the campus I let the exhaustion take over. I muttered something to Ed, God only knows what, and the next thing I knew he was squatting next to me with the door open, shaking my arm. We were in my driveway.

‘Cass, are you awake?' He sounded so anxious I guessed he must have been trying to wake me for a while.

I groaned and blinked a few times, trying to shake myself out of the fog.

‘I don't know if I've got the energy to move,' I mumbled.

Something in my expression must have told him I wasn't kidding. I really didn't know if my legs would hold me. He just nodded and, in one swift movement, bent over and lifted me out of the car. Even in my daze I couldn't believe how strong the guy was; he made me feel like some dainty little wisp of a thing, and with all Gran's good food I am certainly no featherweight. He slammed the car door with his butt and carried me to the front door. I gave in and just rested my head on his shoulder. It felt so good.

Gran must have heard the car pull up because she was waiting at the door, lines of worry etched on her face. ‘Is she all right?'

‘I think so, just exhausted.'

‘Bring her into the lounge room and I'll make a pot of tea, she needs something restorative.'

I felt like I should say something, remind them that I was there too, but I just couldn't be bothered. The warmth of Ed's body was making me sleepy again and I wanted to shut my eyes and go back to sleep. I must have done that because the next thing I knew I was lying on the couch and Gran was waving a cup of tea under my nose and stroking my brow.

‘Drink this, Cass.'

‘I just want to sleep, Gran,' I complained.

‘I know, dear, but Detective Dyson needs to know a bit more about what you saw before you can go to sleep again. He has to know if you saw anything about the killer that might help identify him.'

‘Where's Mum?'

‘She's in the study with a client. She'll be finished soon.'

I sat up reluctantly and took the cup from her. I looked over in the corner. Ed was sitting quietly in Grandad's old armchair. I was surprised to see him there. Normally Gran ushered visitors towards the settee. Gran wasn't sentimental about many things but that chair embodied some of her happiest memories of when she and Grandad used to sit in this room at the end of the day, talking or just enjoying each other's company. Ed had obviously moved up in her estimation quite dramatically.

Our lounge room was a cosy room of no particular style. All three of us were bower birds, inclined to buy pretty things to line our nest. The result was a room filled with brightly coloured silk cushions, tapestry throw rugs, a couple of Persian carpets and a varied collection of lamps and knick-knacks. It was a very female space but, surprisingly, Ed didn't look uncomfortable or out of place.

I took a long sip of tea and involuntarily screwed up my face. The taste alone was enough to shake me out of my comatose state. I could pick out a few of the herbs she'd put in: a touch of peppermint, some rosemary and ginseng but that was where my knowledge of herbs hit a brick wall. I had no doubt that there were other things as well but I just concentrated on trying to hold my breath while I drank it because even the heavy-handed addition of some honey hadn't made it very palatable.

‘Would you like a cup, Mr Dyson? I'm sure you've had a difficult day too.'

Ed had been watching my face while I struggled to swallow each mouthful.

‘No thanks, I'm fine, really.'

‘You're not thirsty then?' She had a twinkle in her eye as she asked the question. She knew damn well that he was probably gasping for a cup of coffee but was too polite to say so. ‘I've got some coffee brewing in the kitchen if you would like a cup?'

Ed gave an audible sigh. ‘I'd love a cup, thanks.'

Gran left to fetch his coffee and we sat there looking at each other over my cup of tea. I was starting to feel more like myself and images of what I'd seen at the uni were beginning to crowd into my head.

‘Thank you for looking after me.'

‘To be honest, you scared the crap out of me. When you collapsed at the uni and I couldn't wake you up, I actually thought you might be dead.'

‘I never remember any of that but other people who've seen me have a vision have been pretty freaked out.'

‘Yeah, well, your grandma did warn me, but being told isn't the same as experiencing it firsthand. Let me tell you, the scream you gave at the first scene was enough to scare ten years off my life.'

‘I screamed?'

‘Loud and long and ear shattering.'

‘That must be why I have a sore throat.' I smiled thinly. It was an attempt at humour but really there was nothing funny about it. Gran chose that moment to come back in with a tray laden with coffee, milk, sugar and two enormous plates of apple pie and ice cream. She put the tray down next to Ed and passed each of us one of the plates.

‘I don't think I really feel like eating, Gran,' I said feebly, knowing that resistance was futile.

‘Nonsense, I bet you haven't eaten since lunchtime!'

‘No, we haven't,' I said.

‘It does look good, ma'am. It's been a long time since I had homemade apple pie,' Ed murmured, the spoon already halfway to his mouth.

‘Well then, eat, you'll both feel better. I'll leave you to it. Give me a yell if you need anything, I'm just going to be in the kitchen. I have some herbs I need to bag up. I'll tell Anita not to disturb you.'

‘Thanks, Gran.'

Silence followed her exit as we both sat there and wolfed down her divine apple pie. Nobody on earth could possibly make better pie than she did. I was three-quarters of the way through devouring my serve when I heard a contented sigh and the clatter of spoon on china from the other side of the room.

‘That was fantastic! Does she cook like that all the time?'

‘Yep,' I muttered through a mouthful.

‘If I lived here I'd weigh three hundred kilos. I'd be one of those people you see on TV who has to be lifted out of the house with a crane.'

‘Welcome to my pain. I gave up on being thin a decade ago. I couldn't deal with the deprivation.' I let out a sigh of my own as I placed the spoon on my spectacularly clean plate and leant back against the couch. It was a remnant from the seventies, covered in donkey-brown velvet and stuffed with feathers that tended to sink after a while. I squirmed against the cushions, trying to mould them to my back.

‘You look just fine. I hate really skinny. Women should have curves.'

A gold star for Mr Dyson, I thought. He just keeps getting better. Enough idle chit chat though, the pie was over and I needed to tell him what I'd seen. The food and tea had been a welcome distraction but now it was back to business. With a deep breath, I got down to it.

‘Marcy Lucas was at her car when she was attacked by a man who came up behind her. She heard him coming and turned around in time to see him. That was when she said, “Oh, you're the guy from the expo, aren't you? What are you doing here?”'

Ed sat up straight. He looked at me eagerly. ‘Was that exactly what she said?'

‘Yes, exactly. Then he jumped on her and tried to hold a cloth soaked with something horrible over her mouth but she managed to fight him off. I think she might have hurt him, but she wasn't quick enough. He grabbed her again and started to strangle her.' I put my hands up to my throat at the memory and tears filled my eyes. I'd been fighting for breath, terrified, my heart pounding and unable to force any air into my lungs, which were screaming for oxygen. ‘Then he put the rag over my — I mean, her mouth again and everything went black.'

‘Is that where it ended?'

‘Yes, she must have died before she regained consciousness.'

‘And it was definitely the same man?'

‘Yes, I'm as certain as I can be. It was very dark. The light near her car wasn't working. I saw his face. He was probably in his twenties with brown shortish hair. He was pretty average looking, medium build, not overly tall. He was the sort of guy you wouldn't look at twice in the street.'

‘So what makes you so sure it's the same guy?'

‘It was the way he talked. I heard him talk to Janet Hodgson and Old Mick.' I shuddered at the memory. ‘There was something eager in his voice. He enjoyed what he did. He seemed more nervous about Marcy. With Mick and Janet he was a lot surer of himself, almost cocky. You have to catch him, Ed. He really enjoyed killing Old Mick.' The last few words came out as a whisper and all of a sudden the apple pie was sitting like a stone in my stomach. I felt physically ill at the memory of the killer's laughter as he'd taunted the old man.

Ed was looking down at his hands, which were clenched so tightly into fists that the knuckles almost glowed white. In a flash I remembered that his wife was one of the victims too. How hard must it be to know that someone so perverted had taken his wife? I couldn't even begin to imagine how that must feel.

‘I'm sorry, Ed.'

‘Sorry?' He looked confused for a few seconds until he got my meaning, then he sighed heavily. ‘Cass, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're the only person who has given me anything that might help to find Susan and the man responsible for taking her away from me.'

He looked at me with a fierce burning in his eyes.

A gentle knocking on the French doors broke the tension.

‘Yes?' I called.

‘Cass, it's me,' Mum said. ‘Are you both all right in there? Can I get you anything?'

Typical Mum, Gran would have told her to leave us alone but worry would have got the better of her and she just had to make sure I was OK. She poked her head in.

‘Come in, Mum, I think we're pretty much finished.'

Mum came into the room and sat on the couch next to me, looking at my face and reading the weariness.

‘Was there anything else, Cass?' Ed asked.

‘No, nothing that I can remember right now. If you like I'll spend some time tomorrow writing both of them down for you, just to make sure I haven't forgotten to tell you anything.'

‘You don't mind?'

‘No, it helps to get things out of my head if I put them down on paper.'

‘You look exhausted, Cass,' Mum said. No points for subtlety there. Ed took the hint and stood up.

‘I'm going to get going. Cass, I'll ring you from work tomorrow to see how you are, OK?'

I smiled tiredly. My temporary burst of energy had worn off and the lead was creeping back into my limbs. I had to get to bed. I looked at the clock — it was only 9 PM. It felt like the middle of the night.

Ed headed for the door and Mum saw him out. I heard her bid him goodnight and then the sound of the door closing solidly behind him. A few moments later Mum came back in.

‘Let's get you upstairs.' She helped me up from the couch and, like a person looking after someone very old and infirm, she walked me up the stairs. Every step took supreme effort. I honestly don't think I would have made it if she hadn't been there with her hand under my elbow, propelling me on. I got to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Mum gently took off my shoes, socks and jeans, peeled back the bedclothes from one half of the bed and eased me into it, tucking me in like a small child. She smoothed back my hair and gave me a tender kiss on the forehead.

‘I'm proud of you, Cass. You did a good thing today.'

I don't think the door was even shut behind her before I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.