Authors: J.M. Peace
Nev turned to the constables. âYou guys need to stay here, and make sure no one else comes up. We need to treat this as a crime scene until further notice. You'd better start a crime scene log,' he directed.
They headed up the trail, with Sylvia in the lead. Actually the dog was leading, weaving and sniffing as far as the leash would let him. Nev had to remind himself that the path had been trodden on by potentially hundreds of feet since the woman whose scapula had been found had walked along here. If there was any evidence out here, it would be with the actual remains. If they could find them.
There was a good chance it wasn't a crime scene anyway. Suicide was so much more common than murder, and a number of missing persons were just people who had taken their own lives and had not yet been discovered. Or it could just be the bones of some dead animal. That was what Nev was hoping as they trudged along the bush track. If Bill was right, and this was suspicious, it would be a long day. He considered calling his wife now to warn her he'd be home late.
âThere,' Sylvia said, pointing towards a big gum tree. âI was going back towards the trailhead. Ziggy was on that side of the trail. I could hear him rustling so he wasn't all that far in the bush, then he trotted back out there with the bone. I'm sure he came out with it there by the gum.'
âOK, thanks for that. There's no need to wait, you can go back now,' Nev said.
âAre you sure you won't need Ziggy? He won't do any more damage than he's already done by accident,' she said.
âNo, really. We need to preserve anything we find as far as possible,' Nev answered.
Some people just loved the thrill of being involved, and of feeling helpful. This doctor was proving to be one of them. She was right, the damage had already been done by Ziggy. But that had happened before it was a police investigation. Nev was in charge now and, although she was right â Ziggy would do a quicker search than them â Nev would have some explaining to do if he took that option. He ushered the woman back down the track.
âThank you so much for your time. You've been so helpful, bringing us out here and pointing us in the right direction,' Nev said, guiding her back down the track.
âWill you at least let me know if you find any human bones? I'm positive it's a scapula, but it would be nice to know that I had given you the correct information,' she said.
âOf course. We won't be able to give you details, but I'll get someone to let you know if we find any remains,' Nev said, just to move her along.
âCome on then, Ziggy,' she said to the dog. âWe'll let these gentlemen do their job.'
Sunday 10:18am
âHello, Crime Stoppers. This is Constable Tracey Snell.'
âYes, hi. I think I've got some information about that missing police officer.'
âGo ahead, what would you like to tell us?'
âI'm a psychic. I'm not very well known though, I try and keep a low profile.'
âOK . . .'
âThe girl is in a basement somewhere. She is still alive but she has a lot of injuries. The house is in the city, I'm pretty sure it's Brisbane. It's an old Queenslander, it's painted a greeny colour and it's been built in underneath. They dug a basement, but the door is hidden. Look for a turtle. That's all I'm picking up right now, but I will call back if I see anything else. Will someone follow this up?'
âYes, we're following up all leads. This may tie in with something. Would you like to leave your details in case we have to contact you?
âNo, I'll call you.'
âThank you.'
Tracey hung up and put her head in her hands for a full ten seconds before the phone rang yet again.
Sunday 10:32 am
Bill poked his head out of his office.
âThey've found the remains of a body at Yonga,' he called across to Janine.
The room started buzzing with questions.
âIs it Sammi?'
âIs it Tahlia?'
âNeither, by the looks of it. So far, there are some scraps of clothes and a shoe too,' Bill announced. âThe bones look too old to be either of our girls, and the clothes don't match. Missing Persons are onto it, checking what's been found of the clothing against their files.'
He walked across to Janine's desk so he was no longer calling across the room.
âI told them to check the details against the missing prostitute that the barman was questioned about,' he said.
âYou're convinced it's all linked,' Janine said. It was a statement, not a question.
âYes.'
âSo you're saying we've got a dead-set serial killer on our hands, with at least three victims,' Janine challenged.
âIt's certainly possible. There are links between all three,' Bill replied.
âThose links are very tenuous,' Janine said.
âYep, but I'm listening to my gut this time. So tell me â do you actually believe that they're not linked? Or do you just not want to believe they're linked because it will mean Sammi is almost certainly dead?' Bill asked.
Janine shrugged without making eye contact with Bill. She didn't have time for soul-searching. She had a missing copper to find.
Sunday 11:09 am
Don was in a filthy mood. Even his dog could tell. Zeus had his tail tucked between his legs and he cowered away from his master. The dog had already felt the pointy end of a boot a couple of times that morning and was keeping clear.
The previous day had not gone as planned. The excitement of the chase had eventually evaporated and he still hadn't found the stupid bitch. How the hell had she found the tracker? She had been lucky but she would still die â he just wouldn't bear witness to it. He consoled himself that she would see her death coming, creeping in with the cold night.
It hadn't been a complete failure. He'd still seen her terror and felt the power coursing through his veins like a drug. He'd learnt from it too. He was already planning, coming up with new ideas. The next one would not get away.
Plus there was still one thrill to look forward to. His notoriety. He turned the radio on in the truck as he loaded the motorbike and strapped it down. The reception wasn't great, but good enough to hear what was being said. Maybe it would be today, but probably not. Her friend was a drunken slut â who knew when she'd work out that her friend had disappeared?
He was nearly back out to the road before the news bulletin came on. He turned up the volume with a giddy sense of anticipation. A grin spread over his face as he heard the words âmissing person'.
âPolice are appealing for help to locate missing person Samantha Leigh Willis. And they're surely prepared to go the extra mile because Willis is a police officer herself
 . . .'
She was a copper!
âPolice would like to speak with Donald Charles Black . . .'
Don slammed on the brakes, sending Zeus into the dashboard with a yelp. It was surreal hearing his own name come over the radio.
â. . . He is believed to be driving a white Toyota Landcruiser ute, with the registration 542GCU. There are significant concerns for her safety. Anyone with any information is asked to contact their local police immediately.'
Fuck.
Should he go back? Find her and finish her off properly in a style befitting her job. How hard could it be to find one tired bitch staggering around his hunting grounds?
He paused, then pushed down angrily on the accelerator. He hated second-guessing himself. There was no way she would make it out of the bush. No way. Being a fucking pig didn't affect that at all. They'd never find her body, never pin him with it. They had nothing. And he would have killed a cop. There was an extra pleasure in that.
Had someone seen her getting in his car? So what? He'd given her a lift home after her friend had ditched her. All of that could be proven. They had nothing to link him to her disappearance. Just like when they'd questioned him about the first whore. Pigs were stupid. They followed their rules and if they couldn't tick all their boxes they left you alone. They couldn't think on their feet. Not like him. He was smart. Smarter than them.
He knew he'd have to find somewhere to hose out the back of his car, and soon. They had all sorts of things they could do with DNA. A sense of dread crept over him. Stupid bitch. He should have popped her while he had the chance.
He didn't want to deal with their shit. He'd head for the border. He had everything he needed. His dog, his gun, his wallet. Go to the Northern Territory and not look back.
The news report had asked for public assistance to find him. So that meant they didn't know where he was. If he kept to the back roads, and free-camped in the bush, it might take them days, even weeks to find him.
These thoughts were churning through his mind when he startled a mob of roos on the side of the bush track. It gave him an idea. Immediately, he stopped and jumped out, rifle in hand. He chose the animal closest to the ute so he wouldn't have to drag it too far. He sighted down the barrel, blasting the roo through the back. He called the dog and they went down to the stricken beast. It was twitching and grunting. He'd taken out its backbone on purpose to remove its capacity to kick. He grabbed it by the legs, dragged it to the ute and hauled it into the tray. It was alive and bleeding heavily, exactly as he'd intended.
Don was pleased with this little brainwave. It reminded him just how clever he was. He favoured Zeus with a pat on the head. The cops had nothing on him. And they'd still have to catch him first. He smiled as he put the ute back into gear.
He'd get out of this, no worries.
Sunday 11:12 am
Gavin did not recognise the two men standing at his front door, but he immediately guessed they were detectives from the city. He had been around cops for long enough now to recognise the plain clothes âuniform'. No one local would turn up on his front porch in long-sleeved shirts and ties, sweating in the midmorning sun.
He felt immediate trepidation. Why would police he didn't know turn up unannounced at his door? Everything that had happened up until now had been done through staff he knew at the local station. They had guided him through the processes and shielded him from over-zealous detectives who didn't know him and didn't know Sammi.
Gavin was convinced Shane was being straight up with him, telling him everything the investigators in Brisbane told him and leaving nothing out. What was this about? He doubted they would send in strangers to break bad news to him. That would be cowardly. Shane would not stand for that. This was about something else.
He opened the screen door and looked at the men expectantly. Both men looked to be in their thirties. The taller one had a paunch and the pasty complexion of someone who spent most of their time indoors. The other man was short, but had compensated by becoming extremely muscular. His biceps strained against his shirt sleeves and he held his arms bowed out from his body, as if he was carrying a watermelon under each arm.
The taller man offered his hand. âGavin, isn't it? My name is Detective Sergeant Barry Stanley. This is Detective Sergeant Matt Stansfeld. We're with the Homicide Squad.'
Gavin's heart stopped at the word homicide. This was the first time it had been mentioned. Up until now, it had been Missing Persons. Maybe they did have bad news. He paused as he processed this new development.
The taller man, Barry, must have seen the look of shock on his face and quickly clarified, âWe don't have any news for you. We just have a few questions to ask. To assist with the investigation.'
Gavin swallowed back the negative thoughts that had surfaced and stepped aside. âPlease come in.'
He looked out the door as the men walked through, half-expecting to see Shane with them. There was no one else though, no familiar face to let him know what was going on and to decipher the subtext for him.
The three men went into the lounge room. There was a container of homemade biscuits on the coffee table, brought over by a neighbour.
âCan I get you a cuppa? There's some biscuits there too,' Gavin said.
âA cold drink would be great, just some water will be fine,' Barry answered. âIt's a long drive up from Brisbane.'
Gavin disappeared into the kitchen, his mind ticking over. He quickly decided he was in no mood for games. When he returned to the lounge room with two glasses of cold water, he cut straight to the chase.
âWhat's going on?' he asked. He directed his question at Barry as the other man had yet to say a word. âSo far the guys at the station have been looking after me. Now I've got Ds from the Homicide Squad at my house. What's happened?'
âIt's OK, Gavin,' Barry said. âTake a seat, we've just got a few more questions. You know what us coppers are like, we've always got more questions.'
He attempted a half-smile, trying to defuse the tension, but Gavin was not buying it.
âYou drove three hours to ask me some questions? You couldn't get my phone number? There's more to it than that. Why are you here?' he said.
âYep, you're right,' Barry said. âHomicide Squad has just been involved now. I'm sorry, but it's looking very much like Samantha has met with foul play. So now we start our investigation. And you're part of our investigation.'
âYou think I'm involved.'
âI didn't say that. But a lot of homicide victims are killed by their husbands or partners, or people they knew. It would be remiss of us not to make some enquiries with you,' Barry spoke calmly, making eye contact and trying to placate Gavin.
The other man remained mute, but watched Gavin intently.
âCheck with the local crew. I was here all night, they'll vouch for me. And don't tell me you don't know about the barman.'
âOh, we know about the barman, and believe me, we're doing everything we can to follow up all the leads so far. But we still need to clarify a couple of things with you. Please, take a seat. Come on, we're all on the same side. We're all trying to find Samantha.'