Bitter Wash Road (34 page)

‘I understand,’ he said. ‘But we do have to talk.’

The load shifted, the metal skin boomed faintly and Hempel’s red head appeared. He hoisted himself onto the rim of the dumpster, wild-eyed, oil on his jeans, hands and forearms. He was sweating as he gave the yard a jittery once-over.

‘It’s okay. Only me here,’ Hirsch said.

Hempel jumped to the ground. His jeans slithered to his thighs. He tugged them up. ‘Where we going?’

‘To the station for the time being.’

‘Not down Redruth?’

‘No.’

‘I didn’t mean to hit ya.’

‘I understand.’

They were moving towards Hempel’s car now. Hirsch shepherding, ready to grab, bolster, protect or brain the kid. ‘Keys?’

He lifted the boot lid. Two Blu-Ray players, a Game Boy, a laptop, a media dock, a Samsung Galaxy phone still in its box. All on the list. Hirsch slammed the lid, said, ‘Get in,’ and drove out of the yard.

Down they went to the main road, passing the general store, into Hirsch’s place of business, Sam looked around the station foyer and said, ‘If I tell yous who run Melia over, can I go?’

~ * ~

30

HIRSCH SHOOK HIS head. ‘First things first, Sam. Tell me about the burglaries.’

They were in the sitting room, the front door locked to deter callers. He switched on the digital recorder, stating names, date and location.

Hempel, a forlorn shape in one of the armchairs, looked on in dismay. ‘Don’t I need a lawyer?’

Hirsch got comfortable. ‘You’ve every right to one, Sam. Of course once a lawyer’s involved I’ll formally charge you. And at that point I will throw the book at you: assaulting a police officer, resisting arrest, several counts of burglary. I’m sure I can think of a few more. Then I’d get Sergeant Kropp to put you in the Redruth lockup while I inform the homicide squad that you’re a witness and maybe a suspect in the death of Melia Donovan. They don’t mess around, those guys. They’ll whisk you away and grill you for days. You won’t see daylight for twenty years.’

He paused. ‘That’s if we go the formal route. You will still face charges, but I’d like to protect you from the worst of it, at this stage.’

Hempel gnawed at his lower lip.

‘So,’ Hirsch said, ‘the break-ins.’

‘It was me. I done them.’

‘But you were at the service in the church, with Nathan and his mother. I saw you.’

Sam shifted in agreement and embarrassment. ‘I was like,, you know...’

‘Checking out who else was there.’

‘Yeah.’

‘You knew these people would be absent from their homes for a couple of hours.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Didn’t Nathan or his mother wonder where you’d gone?’

‘Said I had stuff to do.’

‘Where do you live at present?’

‘At Nate’s.’

‘And before that?’

‘With me mum sometimes, with me mates, mattress on the floor and that.’

Hirsch checked the recorder. Satisfied, he said, ‘I’ve been looking at burglary and theft reports for the past twelve months. There have been several similar break-ins: farm properties over Easter, school holidays, Saturdays when people are playing sport. Was that you?’

Sam looked hunted. ‘Thought you wanted to know about Melia?’

‘Was that you acting alone, or did you have help?’

‘I didn’t kill her!’

‘The burglaries, Sam: was that you acting alone or did you have help?’

‘Me.’

‘Was Nathan ever involved?’

‘Nate? No way. The cops are always hassling him.’

‘Yes. That would make it difficult for you.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. You stole quite a lot of gear in the past few months. The stuff in your car, that’s the tip of the iceberg. Where’s the rest?’ ‘Sold it.’

‘Bloke in a pub.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll need a name.’

‘Dunno if I could find him again.’

Hirsch couldn’t count how many times he’d had this conversation. ‘What did he look like, this bloke in a pub? Which pub?’

‘Can’t remember. Somewhere down Adelaide.’

‘You drive all the way to Adelaide to do your drinking? Don’t answer that. Tell me why you gave Mrs Donovan one of the stolen TVs.’

‘Like I told you, I felt sorry for her and that.’

‘Sorry how?’

‘Sorry Melia got killed. A tragedy.’

Hirsch gave him a look. ‘A tragedy. You’re close to the family?’

‘Well, yeah. Me own family’s fucked.’

‘How do you know the Donovans?’

‘Went to primary school with Nate. His mum useta let me doss down at their place when my mum was drinking or had a bloke over.’

‘That’s been a pattern for a while?’

‘Years.’

‘So you’d known Melia since she was a baby?’

‘She was kinda like my sister.’

Sam had curled into the armchair. Fear, nerves and shame had shrunk him, it seemed to Hirsch. The kid’s clumsy height and bulk counted for nothing. Here out of the light he was pale, very gingery, the hairs downy, no spring or verve at all.

‘She was special to you?’

Sam shrugged.

‘I’ve seen photos of her. A lovely girl. Beautiful, in fact.’

Bewilderment, loss and pain in Sam’s face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but said nothing.

‘But a bit wild, right?’ Hirsch said.

Sam wriggled his shoulders. ‘I tried to look out for her.’

‘Like a brother.’

‘She’s just a kid. She was just a kid.’

‘Old enough, Sam. So you looked out for her. What about Nathan and his mother? Shouldn’t they have been looking out for her?’

‘What can they do, stuck here? I got more...I got more contacts and that. Driving around the place, I hear things.’

‘Was it hard keeping your relationship with Melia a secret from her brother and her mother?’

Hempel’s jaw dropped. ‘What? What relationship?’

‘She infuriated you sometimes? Wouldn’t do what you wanted? There was a bruise on her face dating from before she was killed.’

‘Fuck you. I never hit her, never touched her. I can tell ya who did.’

‘Maybe she hit her head when she was in your car? Was that it?’

Sam got out of the chair, no longer an unprepossessing ten-year-old in disguise. ‘I never done nothing to Melia.’

Hirsch used a whiplash voice. ‘Sit down.’

Sam collapsed.

‘Sam, were you the older boyfriend I’ve been hearing about?’

‘What? No way.’

‘All right, try this. You kept an eye out. You know who she spent time with. Boyfriends, girlfriends.’

‘That’s right.’

‘You saw her with an older man.’

‘Yep.’

‘Well, who, Sam?’

‘That magistrate bloke, Coulter.’

‘Really? You know who he is?’

An ironic laugh. ‘Sure.’

‘How did Melia get involved with him?’

‘She got done for shoplifting.’

‘He was the sitting magistrate?’

‘Yeah.’

‘She caught his eye?’

‘S’pose.’

‘They went out together?’

‘Could say that.’

‘What would you say?’

‘He took her to parties and that.’

‘Anywhere else? A film, a restaurant, the pub...’

‘She was fifteen. How’s he gunna do that?’

Hirsch nodded. He said musingly, ‘I had this girlfriend once, told me I wasn’t good enough for her, wasn’t making enough money, and who’d want to go out with a cop anyway?’

Hempel shifted, saying nothing.

Hirsch leaned forward. ‘Did Melia say something like that to you, Sam? She tell you about her rich boyfriend, a guy with more wallet potential than you, rubbing your face in it?’

‘No.’

‘Gets under your skin, that kind of thing. No wonder you followed her around.’

‘I was lookin’ out for her,’ Hempel said, with a whine of entreaty and complaint. ‘Nothin’...filthy like you’re suggesting.’

‘You saw her with Coulter a few times, or only once?’

‘Few times.’

‘He must be what, thirty years older?’

Sam shrugged.

‘But loaded, right? Big house, flash car.’

‘I’m gunna get an apprenticeship,’ Sam said, as if announcing a plan to float an internet start-up.

‘So you were hurt that she chose a rich man over you?’

‘No, I’m just sayin’, he’s no better than me. Least I never killed no one.’

Hirsch would come back to that. ‘Did she ever reveal to you, or anyone else, that she was involved with David Coulter?’

‘Dunno. Prob’ly Gemma.’

‘Did she ever tease you about the affair?’

Hempel twisted about in his chair.
‘Tease
me? Nah. Why? I told her she was makin’ a big mistake, she told me to mind me own business. That’s all.’

‘What kind of big mistake?’

‘I go, the guy’s a creep, Mel, he’s using you, he’ll hurt you you’re not careful.’ A shake of the head.

‘Did Nathan ever go with you when you followed Melia?’

‘Like I said. The Redruth cops are on him like shit on a blanket.’

Hirsch checked the recorder again. ‘Was Melia by herself when she saw Coulter, or did Gemma Pitcher accompany her sometimes?’

‘A coupla times. Why?’

‘How did it work? Gemma recruited Melia? Melia recruited Gemma? Or maybe Coulter recruited Gemma, who recruited Melia, or vice versa?’

‘What are you on about?’

‘The sex parties.’

Hempel floundered, opened and closed his mouth. ‘Sex parties?’

‘I have reason to believe that Gemma and Melia took part in sex parties with several men.’

‘I don’t know nothin’ about that.’ Hempel chewed his thumbnail and looked up. ‘Explains some things though.’

‘Like what?’

‘Melia come running out of this house with nothing on, all upset, and—’

Hirsch held up a hand. ‘I need details for the tape. Date, location, times...’

‘Well,’ Hempel swallowed and started again. ‘It was the night she was killed.’

‘Where.’

‘This house outside Redruth.’

‘Coulter’s?’

‘Don’t think so. He lives over in Clare.’

‘You followed her and—’

‘Coulter took Mel and Gemma to this house. I was watching, and then Melia come runnin’ out, no clothes on. A real mess.’

‘In what way a mess?’

‘Cryin’ and that.’

‘Where were you?’

‘Behind this hedge.’

‘Not in your car?’

Hempel shook his head. ‘Mel knew it so I parked in the next street.’

‘You didn’t peer through the windows?’

‘I’m not stupid.’

‘So you were watching from behind a hedge and Melia came running out in distress. What did you do?’

‘Happened so quick, I was gunna go and help her but Coulter come out. He was ropeable. He sees her runnin’ down the street and he gets in his car and runs her down.’

The silence ticked. Hirsch said, ‘Was it deliberate, do you think?’

Sam hoisted one shoulder fractionally. ‘He was pretty pissed off.’

‘What happened then? Did anyone come out to see? Did you show yourself?’

‘No way. Coulter puts Melia in the boot and drives off.’

‘It was definitely Coulter?’

‘I reckernised him. I reckernised his car.’

‘Which was?’

‘Silver Land Cruiser, the flash one.’

Hirsch looked at Hempel intently. ‘Were there other cars parked at or near the house?’

‘A few.’

‘Whose, do you know?’

‘I guess.’

‘Perhaps you could tell me, Sam,’ Hirsch said, exquisitely patient.

‘There was like, Dr McAskill’s Mercedes. That real estate guy’s Lexus. Ian Logan’s Audi. Len Latimer’s Range Rover. Plus two BMWs I didn’t know who they were, and, um, this Chrysler.’

‘Go back a bit: Len Latimer?’

‘Him and Ray,’ Sam said. He smirked. ‘And was Ray in big trouble.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, his wife was there, wasn’t she?’

‘At the party?’

Sam gave Hirsch a doofus look. ‘No,
watchin’ the place,
like me. She must of followed in her car.’

‘Was she behind a hedge?’

Hempel shook his head. ‘Parked up the road a bit.’

Motive, Hirsch thought. ‘Tell me about the Chrysler.’