The Twisted Knot (20 page)

58

It was the way he tossed his keys onto the kitchen table that gave Sammi the first clue that Gavin had the shits with her.

‘How was your day?' she asked lightly.

He grunted and went to the fridge, only coming over to give her a quick kiss after he had a beer in his hand.

‘Busy day?' she asked.

‘It was okay.' He leant against the counter, the other end from where she was chopping veggies for dinner. Any moment now, she thought. Then he'd unload.

‘How was your day? Anything interesting?' Gavin asked.

‘Same shit, different day,' Sammi answered noncommittally.

‘Still working on the pedophile thing?'

Here it came.

‘It's a branch job. I've only been helping out a little,' she replied.

Gavin took a long swig from his beer.

‘So tell me,' he said, too loudly considering they were in the same room. ‘Was it really Barry who you found hanging in the shed?'

Sammi hesitated only slightly before nodding. This was fraught with danger. There were so many factors at play. Firstly, that Gavin's mate was dead. Secondly, that his mate was probably a pedophile. Thirdly, the indication that Gavin thought Sammi was withholding information from him. It was a minefield. How did that information get out any way? There'd been nothing official yet. She suspected it had been Muzza.

‘We identified him by a tattoo. I know he was a mate. I'm sorry.' She stretched out her hand, took a step towards him, but Gavin turned away.

‘Was he supposedly a pedophile too?' The gossip machine had kicked in to gear. It was an easy conclusion to jump to that Barry was linked to Nicola's abuse. Sammi didn't know if Gavin was being belligerent because Barry was a mate or because he had heard it at work rather than at home from Sammi.

Sammi nodded but kept her mouth shut.

‘I can't believe he was like that,' Gavin said. ‘They're still investigating, right? He was a good bloke. A great father to Nicola. The only father she'd known. Her biological father was a sperm donor, didn't have any contact with her. Barry was her dad.'

Sammi shrugged. There was nothing she could say which wouldn't end in some sort of argument. It was hard to reason with someone in denial.

‘You don't know him very well,' Gavin continued. ‘I do. There's got to be some sort of mistake. It was Peter. He's the ped.'

‘It was definitely Peter. But it seems it was Barry too. Or Barry at least allowed Peter access to Nicola,' Sammi replied.

Gavin shook his head. ‘He wasn't that type of guy. He just wasn't.'

‘There's no such thing as a typical pedophile,' Sammi ventured. ‘They don't all fit the old stereotype of the guy in a dirty overcoat with a bag of sweets. They're husbands and fathers too.'

‘We're talking about Barry here.' Gavin's voice was getting louder. ‘I've known him for years, ever since I started working for Stan. He's not like that.'

‘I think he fooled everyone. Including Belinda.'

‘No. He loved Belinda. There's no way he would have done that to her. There's so many things here that don't make sense.'

‘They're still investigating,' Sammi said.

Gavin grunted. ‘Can they prove he hung himself?'

Sammi looked down at her chopping board. This was making her tired and both of them cranky. But Gavin was not finished.

‘So at least they're acknowledging it's suspicious? Because as far as I can tell, there seems to be a hell of a lot of unanswered questions surrounding this death.'

‘Are you asking me or telling me? 'Cos you're on thin ice either way.' Sammi glared at him, daring him to keep pushing.

‘Okay.' He held his hands out in a placating gesture. ‘But it's really bothering me.'

‘Yep. I can understand that.'

There was a pause. Sammi resumed chopping, focusing on the slice of the knife. Gavin leant forward. He tapped the bent bottle top from his beer against the counter.

Just leave it
, Sammi thought. She had no answers for him. She willed Gavin to go out to the lounge room and turn the TV on. But he didn't.

‘What do you think?' Gavin asked. ‘Do you really think Barry was a ped?'

Sammi huffed. ‘You've got no right to try to get me to reveal any part of this investigation just because you knew the bloke or you want to big-note yourself to your mates. But it doesn't matter what I think, it only matters what they can prove. It's still a branch job. It's a suspicious death. That's way out of my hands.'

Gavin glared at her. He started to say something but seemed to think better of it. Then he turned and left the kitchen. Sammi breathed out through pursed lips. But only seconds passed before Gavin stormed back in again.

‘I have to say something,' he said, resting both hands on the kitchen counter. ‘He's my friend for god sakes.'

‘Gavin . . .' Sammi warned.

‘If Barry wasn't a pedophile – and I really don't think he was – then there's no way he would have hung himself. I think he's been murdered. Maybe he found out about Peter and Nicola and went after his own brother, but Peter got the better of him, made it look like he was the one who was dead. If everyone thought Peter had killed himself, no one would come looking for him. That would be a smart plan.'

Sammi stared at him. ‘You're kidding, aren't you? Peter murdered his brother and no one noticed Barry was missing? What about Belinda? She's missing too. Do you think she's in on it with Peter? Peter, who we know is a pedophile and we know was abusing Nicola? Seriously, Gav. I know Barry was a mate and I'm sorry about that. But you have to stop this.'

Gavin sneered at her. ‘That's easy for you to say. You probably know more than you're telling me. You've been keeping this all from me since the beginning.' It was the accusatory tone that got to Sammi more than the words themselves.

She stepped in front of him. ‘You want to be a cop?' she snapped. ‘You need to start learning how to separate fact from emotion. This job isn't personal. Just because you like the accused, doesn't mean you know everything about him. You don't choose who is innocent or guilty. The facts make the choice for you. You have to accept them whether you like it or not. That's your job as a copper. Without fear or favour. If you can't do that, you can't be a cop.'

Gavin looked at her, startled. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. Part of Sammi knew she had won; she had completely shut him down. But part of her felt miserable, because what kind of victory was that?

He turned and walked away, leaving Sammi with an ache in the pit of her stomach.

59

I
t was two thirty in the morning and Aiden was still concentrating. They'd done several patrols of the town and then a big lap around the outskirts before returning to the station. It was a quiet shift. Usually by this time of night, they'd be kicking back in the meal room with a cuppa and the TV on. But Tom could see by the way Aiden was sitting straight in the chair, hand on the mouse, that he was focused on work.

Tom
was
ready
for
a
break.
He
stood
up
and
stretched.

‘Do
you
want
a
cuppa,
mate?'

Aiden
looked
up
distractedly.
‘Yeah,
I'll
be
down
in
a
minute.'

Tom
headed
for
the
meal
room.
Aiden's
coffee
was
lukewarm
by
the
time
he
joined
him.

‘Found
a
good
job
to
apply
for
or
something?'
Tom
asked,
taking
in
the
grin
on
Aiden's
face.

‘Not
that
lucky.
But
I
think
I
might
have
found
that
car
we
lost
the
other
night.'

Tom
laughed.
‘That
still
eating
you?'

‘Course it is. Everyone hates losing a pursuit. So I did a bit of digging.'

Tom and Aiden had both been given an update on the job they'd attended in the shed the previous night. Tom had already given Aiden a ribbing about the fact it was possibly a middle-aged mother behind the wheel when they'd been outmanoeuvred. ‘Ask your mum for some driving tips,' he'd suggested. Someone else had stuck a magnetic “L” plate to Aiden's locker door. It was too good an opportunity to let slide by. Aiden would have done the same to anyone else behind the wheel.

‘The
number
plate
was
stolen
off
a
Mazda
323
in
a
car
yard
in
Coopers
Plains.
The
plates
were
removed
the
night
before
and
the
car
yard
hadn't
noticed
them
missing
until
police
followed
up
with
them
earlier
today.
That's
why
they
didn't
come
up
as
stolen
when
we
ran
the
car.'

‘Yeah,
I
wondered
about
that,'
Tom
replied.

‘So
the
others
reckon
Belinda
Woodford
might have been
behind
the
wheel.
She's
got
a
black
Hyundai
Santa
Fe
registered
to
her.
It's
flagged
but
no
one's
seen
it
since.'

Tom
nodded,
wondered
where
Aiden
was
headed
with
this.

‘So
I
was
thinking,
where
might
she
be?
She's
got
to
either
go
on
the
run
or
go
to
someone
she
can
trust
to
hide
her.
Given
that
it's
over
a
week
since
she's
been
seen
and,
if
she
was
the
driver,
she
was
here
in
town
last
night,
she
certainly
hasn't
left
the
state.
So
I
tracked
down
her
mum
on
the
computer.
She
lives
in
Sunnybank.
Do
you
know
where
that
is?'

‘Not really,' Tom replied.

‘It's the next suburb over from Coopers Plains. And do you know what sort of car her mum has registered in her name?'

‘Let me guess – a white Mazda hatch?'

‘Yep. An '88 model. Which is now covered in stone chips and hopefully with a blown transmission from the way she was driving it the other night.'

‘Gotta let Terry know about that,' Tom said.

‘The email's already sent. She doesn't know it, but I'm still chasing her. I'll catch her yet.'

60

Jeremy had the good timing to ring after Sammi had finished her lunch on a quiet counter shift.

‘Hi Sammi, is Terry there?' he asked.

Sammi checked the phone lines, and could see Terry's line was engaged again. ‘Yep, he's here but he's on another call at the moment.'

‘Can you ask him to call me back?' Jeremy said. ‘I found some prints on a bench inside that shed in Moffatdale. I've identified them as Peter Woodford's.'

‘That ties in,' Sammi said. ‘Bob and I found his ute hidden out past the dam on the same property. Safe to say he was in the shed. And he's disappeared again now.'

‘I found out from Tom that you thought the body in the shed was actually his brother? Turns out we had his prints on file too. There was an old assault, a drunken fight, but he ended up charged and in the watchhouse. So I had prints for him too for comparison. But the ones on the note weren't his either. Any other suspects?'

‘I think the victim's mother was involved,' Sammi replied. ‘She's been missing ever since the body was found. Her car was seen at Peter's house around about the time that Barry was strung up in the shed. She's got a rifle, she didn't pack any of her husband's things when they took off and has left no forwarding address. And Aiden's worked out the car they chased probably belonged to Belinda's mother. If you could match her prints to the note, that would be gold – solid gold. I doubt we have her prints on file though.' Sammi quickly typed Belinda's name into her computer.

‘Nope,' she confirmed. ‘No prints. Not that lucky.'

‘Okay. Well if you can get hold of anything else with her prints on it, we can use them to compare with the ones on the note,' Jeremy said.

‘Hm. We've been through her house already. It looks like they've abandoned it. It wouldn't be too hard to get another warrant. Would you be able to get something with her prints from inside her house?'

‘How many other people live in the house?' Jeremy queried.

‘Just Barry, and you've got his prints. And Nicola, the little girl. You could tell a kid's prints from an adult's, couldn't you?'

‘Yeah, that's no problem. I'm sure we could find a lot of the mum's prints, focusing on things like her makeup boxes or a book on her bedside table. Could get a few and soon work out whose were Barry's and whose were left over,' Jeremy replied. ‘It will be sufficient for an ID. Then if she gets charged, she'll have a proper set of prints taken which can then be used as evidence.'

‘Perfect. How soon could you get to it?' Sammi asked.

‘Sammi, if you're talking murder, I'm in the car heading over already.'

Sammi glanced at the phone. Terry's extension was still lit up as engaged. ‘Terry's going to be all over this,' Sammi replied. ‘I'll get him to call you.'

Sammi's stomach tightened a little as she headed up to Terry's office. She paid objective attention to the feeling, trying to work out if it was excitement or anxiety. This could be the breakthrough, the one piece of solid evidence amongst all the speculation. Terry was clearly on a personal phone call, probably another copper by the sound of it. She perched herself on the edge of his desk. He gave Sammi an irritated look, but hung up quickly.

‘What?' he said. ‘You've brought me nothing but headaches lately.' He picked up a paperclip and pegged it at her shoulder.

‘Not this time. You need to ring Jeremy at Forensics,' Sammi said, trying to stop from grinning. When Terry turned to look up the number, she picked up the paperclip and threw it hard enough so it bounced off the back of his head. She turned and moved away quickly, laughing.

About half an hour later, Terry passed through the dayroom, clutching a handful of paperwork.

‘I'll be back in five minutes with another warrant for Belinda's house. Wanna come look for things with lady fingerprints on them? After all, you know your way around the house,' he said.

‘Sure,' she replied.

‘Great, you organise the JP,' he said, and moved out the front door, headed to the courthouse.

The warrant took only a few minutes. They knew there would be no one home. Shirley the JP ambled around after them while they selected a few personal items, picking them up carefully by the edges with gloved fingers and placing them into clip-seal bags. Sammi made a note in black marker on each bag as to where the item had been found.

By the time they got back to the station, Jeremy had already arrived. They handed their finds to him and he and Terry disappeared into the interview room, which had the benefit of a clean table.

About ten minutes later, Terry and Jeremy emerged triumphantly from the room.

‘We've got a match,' Terry said, clapping Jeremy across the shoulder. He then plonked himself in the middle of the dayroom.

Bob, on shift supervisor duties, came out of the sergeant's office and took a seat.

‘So what are we going to do with this fucken ped-murder-suicide-missing-person-revenge thing?' Terry asked no one in particular.

‘I don't think you can write it off as a suicide anymore, mate,' Bob said, putting his hands behind his head and turning his chair to face Terry. ‘There's at least one murder there, whichever way you turn it. Get the boss in on this, maybe. I think he might have some useful input.'

‘Yeah, okay.' As a CIB officer, Terry was not under the control of the station senior sergeant. But with his own boss away, even Terry could see the sense in having a senior officer offer an opinion on this as it snowballed into murder. He went upstairs and returned a minute later with Shane in tow.

‘Okay. Once slowly now, for those in the cheap seats,' Terry said. ‘The victim is an eight-year-old. Her step-father got hung. Her mother's car was observed at that scene. Her step-uncle got shot. Her grandma's car was in a pursuit away from that scene. And now, latest news, hot off the press . . .' He paused for effect. ‘We can confirm the mother's fingerprints were the only ones found on the “suicide note”.' He made quotation marks with his fingers in the air.

Bob laughed. ‘I repeat – I don't think you can say it's a suicide anymore.'

‘The victim and her mother have disappeared completely. And here we go, for the grand prize . . .' Terry continued. ‘Because the mother is on the run because she's killed the friggin' lot of them. It's the one scenario where all the pieces fit.'

‘She did it for her daughter,' Sammi said. ‘That's the reason she's killed the blokes. She did it to protect Nicola. To protect her from the peds as well as the police and the court process.' Sammi took a deep breath, then exhaled with a puff that carried a little sigh on it.

‘That's a hell of a thing. If that's what's happened,' Bob said.

‘We weren't meant to realise it was Barry in the shed. We were meant to think it was Peter, so that we weren't even looking for Barry anymore. It's a cunning plan. Nearly worked. The tattoo made the difference.'

‘You've got to give Belinda some respect for the sheer scope of it. She did a thorough job.'

‘It might have started off simply in her mind. She was probably only trying to work out how to protect her daughter from Peter. Then somehow she's found out Barry was involved and, you know, a mother's work is never done,' Sammi said with a wry smile.

‘So the question is – have we got enough for an arrest warrant for Belinda?' Terry asked.

‘Definitely,' said Bob. ‘Even if she had help stringing up Barry or disposing of Peter, she's a party to the offence. You still charge her with murder. It would be interesting to hear what she has to say.'

‘This has turned into a hell of a job, Terry,' the senior remarked. ‘I'm surprised no one's jumped you on it, you being a PCC and all.'

‘Well, I actually haven't put a homicide occurrence on the system yet. The pieces have been falling into place so quickly that it's not really on anyone's radar yet. That's why I wanted some input. Make sure I've got all my ducks in a row,' Terry said.

‘You need to let your inspector know,' the senior cautioned. ‘I know it's exciting being in charge, but if you fuck this up you'll be processing shoplifters and drunks for the rest of your career.'

Terry acknowledged this with a nod, but didn't let it deter him.

‘So we only have one body,' Sammi said, ‘and we're still waiting for toxicology to see if he was drugged. I'm certain it is Barry. The tattoo proves that, even if we're still waiting on dental records. The coroner won't accept anything less now. I think we can discount Faye's visual ID.' She looked pointedly at Terry. ‘And I think we can safely assume Peter's in a shallow grave somewhere. There's nothing solid to link Belinda to the shed Peter disappeared from. The fact that Belinda's mother drives the same model car as the one Aiden chased from the scene is circumstantial.'

‘If Belinda was driving her mum's car, there's a fair chance she'd be staying with her mum. Aiden tracked the address down to Sunnybank,' Terry said.

Sammi nodded. ‘Belinda needs someone she can trust after everything that's happened.'

‘This is still a Crossing job, isn't it?' Terry asked, looking at the senior.

Bob snorted. ‘You want this pinch, don't you?'

‘Fuck yeah! How often does a plain clothes constable get a crack at a murder charge? Possibly a double murder at that. I'd get any job in the state with that sitting on my resumé. No one else has got wind of it. There's only the Form One for a suspicious death. I can bring my inspector up to date but leave the homicide report till the last moment.'

‘You think Homicide would try to take it?' Sammi asked.

‘Yeah, for sure, now that I've . . . we've done all the work. It's a cracker of a job if you can catch the mother. It's just a matter of finding her. It's a walk-up pinch after that,' Terry said with a broad smile. They all laughed. There was no such thing as a walk-up murder pinch.

‘You've jinxed yourself now,' Sammi said.

‘What do you think, Shane?' Bob asked, and they all turned to look at the senior.

Shane looked pensive, drawing a hand across his face before answering. ‘This is an Angel's Crossing job. It started over ten years ago, here at this station. I'd like to think one of the Crossing staff can finish it. You need to check with your inspector, Terry. But if you think you've got this, then I'll back you.'

Terry grinned, showing all his teeth.

‘Don't worry about the inspector,' Terry said. ‘He'll understand what an opportunity this is.'

‘You'll need to cross your t's and dot your i's in a big way,' Shane said.

‘Of course.'

‘I don't think she'll be any problem once you've found her,' Sammi speculated.

‘Yeah, I think you're right. But we'll need a couple other coppers at least, to make up the numbers at the grandmother's house,' Terry said.

‘Definitely. You don't know what's waiting for you down there,' the senior interjected.

‘So. Anyone know any coppers in Brisbane?' Terry asked.

Sammi paused and allowed herself a half-smile. ‘Oh, you know I do.'