Hindsight (9781921997211) (22 page)

‘I'm Senior Constable Samuels. What's your name again? DI Sorenson mentioned it this morning but I'm terrible with names.'

‘Cass, Cass Lehman.'

‘That's right, pleased to meet you, Miss Lehman, I'll just leave this file. See you around.'

He plonked a file on Sorenson's desk and ducked back out again. Cass was still thinking about her new title when Sorenson came back in with another officer.

‘Cass, this is Detective Byrnes. He'll take you around to the interview room now.'

‘Thanks for coming, Miss Lehman. This way please.'

She followed him out of the office and down a corridor to a room at the end. There was a large glass window and behind it, Cass could see a man being interviewed by Detective Steiner and another police officer in a suit. She studied the man sitting opposite the two officers. He was in his thirties with brown hair. He was ordinary looking, average height. He fitted the description she'd given Ed. It could be him.

‘Can I hear him talk?'

‘Why do you need to hear him talk?' Detective Byrnes asked.

‘Because I will never forget the killer's voice,' she said simply.

Byrnes hesitated for a few seconds, scrutinising her expression. Then he reached over and flicked a switch on the wall. A small speaker crackled into life and they could hear what was being said.

‘Can you remember where you were last Monday night?' Rawlinson asked.

‘Monday?'

‘Yes.'

‘I was at home.'

‘Can anyone confirm that?'

‘No, I live by myself.'

The man had a deep, husky voice. It was different from the higher pitched, almost feminine voice she'd heard in her visions. It wasn't the same man. Cass turned to Detective Byrnes.

‘It's not him.'

‘You're sure?'

‘He sounds nothing like the man in my visions.'

‘But he matches the description you gave.'

‘He looks similar but it's not him. I'm sorry.'

‘This man was at expos that two, maybe three of the victims attended. Are you absolutely sure?'

‘I am.'

Byrnes led her back to Sorenson's office. Ed was there, waiting. He looked so brittle he could snap. He looked at her first, then at Byrnes. Byrnes shook his head and then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

‘I'm sorry, Ed.'

He said nothing, staring out the window at the grey winter's day. It looked like the colour had been stripped out of everything.

‘You could be wrong.' He ground the words out through clenched teeth.

‘I don't think so.'

‘Does being a psychic mean that you're never wrong?' He turned his gaze on her and she was startled by the animosity she saw there. He was really angry.

‘That's a shame, Cass, we were all pretty hopeful,' Sorenson said.

She looked at them both, not sure what to say. ‘I'd like to go home now.'

‘Let's go,' Ed said. He strode out of the office and once again she was left to run along behind him. She couldn't help wondering how someone who'd been so sensitive and caring the day before could turn into such a schmuck today.

The drive home was just as tense as the drive in. They sat in icy silence. She could feel the hostility radiating from him. She watched the passing scenery, feeling miserable and more than a bit annoyed. He was the one who'd wanted her help and this was how he thanked her? It wasn't her fault that they had the wrong person.

He pulled into her driveway and sat there with the car running.

‘I'm not wrong,' Cass said quietly.

He turned on her. ‘Everything points to this guy. While you were with Detective Byrnes we got confirmation that the same guy was at the expo the third vic went to as well. It's got to be him.'

‘It's not him. You need to look again.'

‘So we're supposed to ignore a suspect who looks prime for this just on your say-so?' he yelled.

‘Do what you think you need to, but the killer's still out there,' she snapped.

‘You're wrong.'

She got out of the car and slammed the door. He reversed out of the driveway and sped off in a cloud of exhaust fumes. Cass stood there staring after him.

CHAPTER

24

He drove his van into the car park. He was early but it was important that he got a good spot. This fair wasn't as well organised as the bigger expos and they hadn't pre-allocated sites. Ideally he would get a spot where he could see the people approaching him. That way he could do some spruiking. It was hard work being chatty with complete strangers. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that the next person who walked over could be the one. It was like a treasure hunt.

The stall he chose was in an excellent spot. He couldn't believe that no one else had snapped it up. The fair had been set up in a U-shape with tables and chairs and a stage in a central green area. His stall gave him a perfect view of people approaching from all directions. As a bonus he was close to a coffee stall. He would be able to talk to people who were standing in the queue waiting for their coffee.

He had an hour and a half until the fair opened. It probably wouldn't get busy until about lunchtime. Luckily it was a clear day. For the first time in almost a week the rain had subsided and the sky was a pale wintery blue. He wandered over to the coffee stall and turned on his most charming smile.

‘Good morning!'

The woman running it had her back to him sorting through boxes of cups and unloading them. She turned around, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

‘I'm running the iridology stall next door.'

‘Iridology, hey? That doesn't sound very medieval to me,' she said, smiling.

She was probably in her thirties. She had a nose ring and a tattoo on her neck. Her hair was dyed that unnatural shade of jet black that made anyone over twenty look much older than they were. Not the sort of woman he liked.

‘Oh, you'd be surprised. It's a very ancient art, its origins date back almost eight hundred years.'

‘Really? I didn't know.'

‘I don't suppose your coffee machine is up and running yet? I'm frozen. I could really use a hot drink.' He smiled again.

‘I think I could manage one cup. I'll even do it gratis if you'll do a quick reading for me before all the punters get here.' She gave him a broad smile, showing a set of teeth that would have benefitted from a trip to the orthodontist.

‘You've got yourself a deal. Come and sit down and I'll have a quick look and jot down any areas you need to focus on.' He walked back to his stall and she followed.

‘Sit over there. I need to turn a light on so I can see your irises better.'

She took a seat and he sat down opposite her. He switched on the light and looked at her eyes. He was so startled he almost exclaimed out loud. She registered his surprised expression.

‘What? Is it something serious?'

‘No, you have really unusual eyes. Did you know that only about fifteen per cent of the population have green eyes?'

‘No, but people always say my eyes are my best feature.' A slight blush coloured her cheeks.

‘They'd be right. I see lots of eyes but I don't often see people with such beautiful green ones.'

‘Thanks.' The blush deepened. ‘So what health issues do I have?'

‘I can see some issues with your circulation and there's a mark in your left iris. Have you ever had issues with your kidneys?'

‘That's amazing! I had lots of trouble with my kidneys as a kid. I also suffer from varicose veins. I can't believe how spot-on you are! Is there anything else?'

‘Not much, you look pretty healthy. You need to make sure you limit your intake of fatty and acidic foods, but other than that you have a clean bill of health. Do you want me to jot it down on a chart for you?'

‘No, I can remember it.'

‘If you get a chance come back later and I'll do a full reading and chart for you.'

‘Thanks. You'd better come over and get your coffee.'

‘Sorry, I've forgotten your name?'

‘Lucy.'

‘I'm Brian.'

He followed her over to her stall. His heart was pounding and he was so excited he could barely contain the energy flooding through him. She was perfect. Those eyes were the closest to Ginny's that he had ever seen. He wanted to shove her into the back of his van and drive away. Of course he couldn't. He was going to have to slog it through the day. It would be a complete waste of time and energy. He didn't know how he would manage it. Still, at least he could console himself that he'd found a match. What luck! Now he and Ginny would be able to celebrate their anniversary after all.

He realised that Lucy was waiting, looking at him expectantly.

‘Sorry, did you say something?'

‘Gee, Brian, you looked like you were a million miles away. I asked what sort of coffee you wanted.'

‘Sorry, I'm still half asleep. It's a bit early for me. I'll have a latte please.'

‘Sure.'

‘Are you from around here, Lucy?'

‘Yeah, Willunga, a local born and bred.'

‘Are you into the medieval stuff?'

‘No, not really. I just sell coffee, although I'd really like to see the jousting. Don't think I'll get a chance though. It's in the next field and I doubt I'll get away.'

‘What do you do when you're not selling coffee?'

‘Are you trying to crack on to me, Brian?' She said it jokingly but there was a slight edge to her voice. He decided he'd better back off. He'd obviously pushed too much.

‘No, I'm happily married. I was just curious. Sorry, it's a nasty habit of mine to ask lots of questions.'

‘That's OK.'

He heard the relief in her voice. Saying you were married always put people at ease, as if being scary was limited to single people.

‘I run a small art gallery and coffee shop on the main street in Willunga. It's called Divinity. It's in an old church.'

‘Good business?'

‘Great — my sister's holding the fort today. All the tourists will be out for a drive now the rain's broken. Here's your coffee.'

He smiled to himself as he walked back to his stall.
We're going to get to know each other much, much better, Lucy.
He almost danced on the spot with delight.

The rest of the day dragged by. He saw a procession of clients, but struggled to maintain his focus. His eyes kept being drawn to Lucy. She was doing a booming trade and luckily she was so busy she was oblivious to his scrutiny.

He found only two other clients with green eyes, real green that is, not hazel or green flecked. He carefully recorded their details. There was nothing like planning ahead. He might not find anyone better at the next few expos.

Finally things started to wind down. It was getting cold and only a few diehards were left. A lot of the stallholders had already gone. The dreary band playing the last session on the centre stage finally finished. It sounded like a dirge. How appropriate. He chuckled to himself.

He got his van and pulled it up behind his stall. It was important to get his things packed up before Lucy finished. The line at her stand was still going. He had no intention of coming back the next day and he wanted to be ready to follow her as soon as she left.

He took a deep breath, trying to ease the knot of tension in his stomach. He didn't have time to plan carefully like he normally did. There'd be no opportunity to monitor her habits and work out the best way. It was risky but he was feeling lucky. She'd been sent to him. He was meant to have her.

Finally she put up a closed sign and started the tedious process of cleaning the machine and jugs, bagging up rubbish and sorting things out ready for the next day. After what felt like forever she pulled down the shutter on her van, locked it and came out of the back door. It was starting to get dark, the sun had slipped behind the hills and there was a cold mistiness to the air. It would be a frosty night.

He walked quickly around to the driver's side of his van and jumped in. He watched Lucy walk towards the car park about five hundred metres away. He let her get a good head start and then he drove slowly towards her. She was striding along, anxious to get out of the cold. He pulled up next to her. He looked in his rear-view mirror. There were no cars behind him, no other people walking in front or behind. The few remaining stallholders were busy packing up. No one was paying any attention. He smiled and wound down his window.

‘Can I give you a lift to your car?'

She stopped and looked at him. ‘It's not very far.'

‘Oh come on, don't be silly. It's freezing out there. You'll be an icicle by the time you get there.'

She stood by his car, undecided. He didn't push her, not while her instincts were telling her she shouldn't. It was always a mistake to seem too eager. She looked towards the car park.

‘Suit yourself, I just didn't want you to catch cold.' He started to wind up the window. Pretending you didn't care always worked well.

‘No, wait — you're right, thanks.'

She jogged around to the passenger side of the van and climbed in. He started to feel the humming and throbbing of his own pulse as adrenaline pumped through him. He looked in the rear-view mirror again; no one was close to them. That was perfect. Fate was smiling on him. He continued his slow drive across the boggy grass.

‘You had a busy day today.'

‘Flat out. I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.'

‘Really? I might be able to help you with that.' He chuckled, enjoying his private joke.

Lucy frowned, not understanding. ‘I need sleep. Just as well I don't have any plans. What about you? Are you and your wife doing anything tonight?'

‘Yeah, big plans.' He sniggered.

The van hit the car park and he sped up slightly.

‘That's my car over there.'

He drove over to the car and stopped.

‘Just before you get out, Lucy, would you mind passing me the small blue box in the glove box? It's got my diabetes meds in it. I forgot to take my insulin earlier and I'd better not risk driving home without it.'

‘Sure thing.' She opened the glove box and handed it to him. ‘Thanks for the lift.' She tried to open the door. She jiggled the handle a few times then turned to him in frustration. ‘I can't seem to get the door open. Can you give me a hand, please?'

‘Sorry, Lucy, I'm afraid I can't.'

‘What?' She looked at him in incomprehension. ‘I need you to open the door.' She shook the handle harder.

He smiled at her, holding up the syringe. ‘Just relax, Lucy.' He plunged the needle into her thigh. She screamed and lashed out at him, then turned back to the door, frantically scrabbling at it.

He put his foot on the accelerator, driving away from Lucy's hatchback.

‘Brian! Stop, please! Let me out!'

He ignored her. They reached the end of the car park and he turned onto the main road, gaining speed. Lucy's movements slowed down. She stopped pounding on the door and splayed her hands on the glass in silent supplication. Her head nodded and thumped against the window. He stopped on the side of the road and reached over to pull her into an upright position, fastened her seatbelt and folded her hands in her lap.

‘There we go. That's much better. We can't have you drawing attention to us, can we? Don't worry, we'll be home soon. I'm so glad you didn't have any plans for tonight. My wife and I have a real surprise in store for you.'

Lucy's breath came in short, desperate puffs. She blinked frantically. Her eyes were stretched wide and her pupils were so dilated that the irises were almost invisible. Inside her head she was screaming.