Challis - 04 - Chain of Evidence (28 page)

Sarge, they said, and they filed
out disgruntledly, Scobie and van Alphen holding back.

She cocked her head. A problem,
gentlemen?

Van Alphen seemed to change his
mind. It can wait, Ells. Catch you later, he said, and left.

Scobie?

Scobie stared at his shoes as though
they might inspire him. Theres something I have to reveal.

Ellen felt alarmed. What?

Duykers convictions for fraud. He
cheated people, right? Promised to provide them with a portfolio of photos, if
not modelling work?

Where was he going with this? So?

So Beth hired a man to take Roslyns
photo. She paid him but he hasnt sent her the photographs yet.

Duyker?

I dont know. Ill ask her tonight,
get her to ID him from photographs. But what if he had his eye on Roslyn, too?
It makes my skin creep.

Ellen screwed her mouth up in
thought. We could get him on defrauding your wife, but I need something
stronger. She shook her head, frustrated. Im sorry, Scobie, fraud of a few
hundred dollars would be a bullshit charge. Duyker would plead guilty, the
magistrate would let him out, and that would be the last wed see of him. She paused.
What does he call himself?

Rising Stars Agency.

Why didnt you bring this up in the
briefing?

He went bright red. I didnt want
anyone getting a laugh out of it, Beth being conned by Duyker.

He sounded like a child. But Ellen
thought he had a point. Hed barely left the room when the phone rang. It was
Superintendent McQuarrie. He was in regional HQ in Frankston, and said, without
preamble, Ive been speaking to Senior Sergeant Kellock.

That was quick, Ellen thought. Five
minutes ago Kellock had smiled benignly, promising hed do what he could to
find spare officers for her surveillance teams, and then turned around and gone
straight to McQuarrie. Sir?

Your proposed surveillance of this
Duyker character. The budget wont allow it, Sergeant.

Sir, Duykers a firm suspect. He
has a record for sexual...

So, bring him in for questioning.

We need more evidence, sir.

We dont have the manpower. You
know that. Here in Frankston were sometimes thirty uniformed members
below
the
accepted profile for a twenty-four-hour complex. Waterloo is understaffed,
Mornington, Rosebud. We cant even respond to some calls for police assistance;
others we respond to hours,
days
later. We have
cadets
appearing
on staffing rosters. Our members find themselves patrolling solo because we dont
have the manpower to partner them, putting them at risk every day and night of
the week. Sometimes there are only two patrol vehicles for the whole of the
Peninsula.

Ellen knew all of this. Shed been
to the stop-work meetings and read the newsletters. What did surprise her was
that McQuarrie would dare to cite the Federations grievances to support his
denial of more backup and overtime. McQuarrie was management, and hated the
Federation. What a cynic.

Sergeant? Did you hear what I just
said?

Yes, sir.

Get yourself some evidence and
arrest him.

With respect, Ellen said, thats
why I want surveillance.

Like I said, we dont have the
resources.

Fine, Ill do it myself, Ellen
said, feeling childish.

Sergeant, he said warningly.

Thank you for your time, sir,
Ellen said, putting the phone down and wishing shed said something to him
about ForenZics. She began to juggle times and obligations in her head,
wondering who would agree to put in hours of unpaid overtime on this.

She telephoned Laurie Jarrett. Id
like to show Alysha a photograph.

Who of?

A man who might be an associate of
Neville Clode.

Might be an associate, sneered
Jarrett. When it comes to acting
against
my family, everythings black
and white. When it comes to
helping
my family, everythings might and maybe.
The answers no. Shes been through enough. Find evidence and make arrests,
Ellen, okay?

He cut her off. She called Jane
Everard. Have any of the kids you work with ever mentioned the name Peter
Duyker?

As an abuser? No.

Okay, thanks.

Hows it going?

Slowly.

Then Scobie was standing in her
doorway. He looked wretched. Im going to be grilled about the Jarrett
shooting.

When?

After lunch. Theyre already in the
station.

What am I, everyones mother? Ellen
sighed and touched his upper arm reassuringly. Just play it straight, Scobie,
okay?

* * * *

Desperately
needing to get away from the station, she slipped out through the rear doors
and got into her car. Within a couple of minutes she was knocking on Donna Blaskos
door. Just checking to see how youre getting on, she said.

Pretty good, thanks, Donna said,
showing Ellen through to the sitting room.

And she did look pretty good:
somehow tidier, calmer, healthier. Even the house was neater. But Katie remained
close by, almost glued to Donnas hip and watching Ellen solemnly.

Ellen smiled. How are you, Katie?

Shes very strong, arent you, pet?
said Donna, kissing the crown of her daughters head.

Donna, could we

Katie, love, I just need a few minutes
with Sergeant Destry.

Okay.

They watched Katie leave the room. We
get the full treatment, you know, said Donna suddenly, still gazing after
Katie. She swung her head to face Ellen again. Whispers in the street,
finger-pointing in the supermarket, people finding excuses to stop and say
hello, when all they want is to grill Katie for the gory details.

Thats terrible.

I dont know whether to put her in
another school or not. Im giving her another week at home, then Ill decide.

Have the counsellors helped?

Donna shrugged. Ellen thought she
understood: shed struck it before. People like Donna were intimidated by
educated, quietly spoken professionals. Theyd rather struggle than admit to
pain and helplessness.

Donna, she said slowly, the other
day I saw a brochure on your fridge. Rising Stars Agency.

Donna went alert, a little
indignant. Hey, yeah, now youre here I want to lodge a complaint.

You paid for photos that you didnt
get?

Howd you know that?

Ellen explained. Donna was appalled.
But how come Katie didnt recognise him?

He wore a disguise. He drugged her.

Donna began to punish herself. Its
all my fault, isnt it?

* * * *

Ellen
stayed for an hour, trying and failing to comfort Donna, and left needing reassurance
of her own. She pulled to the side of the road and took out her mobile phone.

Hi, sweetie.

Percussive music, punctuated by
raucous shrieks, and her daughters voice saying, Mum? I can hardly hear you.

Ellen checked her watch. Late
afternoon. Where are you?

A pub.

Ellen almost said, acting on her
immediate instinct, Shouldnt you be studying? Instead she said, Everything
okay?

What?

Is everything okay with you?

Fine. Why?

Just checking.

Look, Mum, today we had our last
lecture before exams, okay?

Ellen pictured the pub at the end of
the airwaves that joined her to her daughters mobile phone. Was Travis there?
Would they party on later? Go clubbing? Head-numbing music,
drug-and-alcohol-dazed faces, swirling lights, slender young things crammed
together, some of them predators and some of them prey. Dont leave your drink
untouched.

You think Id let some creep spike
my drink? Mum, get real.

You cant be too careful, Ellen
said, feeling like someones old churchgoing granny.

Have to go, Mum, love you, bye.

Bye, Ellen said but the connection
was dead.

* * * *

36

The
RSPCA inspectorate headquarters for the mid-north was in a town eighty
kilometres to the south of Mawsons Bluff. Leaving Meg to sit with their father
that Friday afternoon, Challis drove up and over Isolation Pass for the second
time in a week, and an hour later was talking to the regional director, a
slow-moving, slow-speaking man in his fifties named Sadler. Thanks for seeing
me.

No problem.

Busy? Challis asked, nodding at
the paperwork on the mans desk.

Sadler leaned back in his chair,
arms folded across his belly. Cruelty to animals never stops, and we never
rest, but nor does the paperwork, he said, with a faint air of self-mockery.
He frowned, serious now. Two detectives are coming to see me later. Has Gavins
body really been found?

That hasnt been confirmed, but its
pretty definite. RSPCA uniform and badge, wallet, watch, all identified as his.

Sadler cocked his head. Whats your
concern in this? You say youre with the Victoria Police?

Meg Hurst is my sister. Gavin was
my brother-in-law.

But its not your case, said
Sadler carefully.

I dont want to step on anyones
toes, Challis said. He felt stiff and sore from the drive: the Triumphs
springs and seats no longer gave much support or security. You can refuse to
talk to me. As you said, two detectives from the South Australia police will be
coming to talk to you. But my sister and father are naturally very upset. Meg
thought Gavin had run out on her, our father thought hed committed suicide.

But its murder?

Yes.

You think it was related to his
job?

I dont know. What do you think?

In reply, Sadler left his chair and
crouched at a low-slung cupboard under his office window. He grunted with the
effort of retrieving a large archive box and hauling it back to his desk. Gavins
stuff, just in case he turned up again.

He removed several folders,
black-covered notebooks, a clipboard, pens in a rubber band and a digital
camera. Some of this was found in his car and returned to us by your sister.
But I cant let you take anything away with you.

Of course not, said Challis. He
flipped through the pad on the clipboard. The bottom pages were blank, the top
covered in handwriting that varied from the neat to the dramatic and emphatic,
dark and deeply scored on the page, as if mirroring Gavin Hursts disturbed
moods. He scanned it: he saw Finucane written several times and underlined,
and the words evidence of classic long term starvation, with some pigs in poor
condition and several in a ribby condition.

He glanced up. He was inspecting
Paddy Finucanes place on the day he disappeared?

Apparently.

How does it work? Did someone
report Paddy, or did Gavin target him for surprise inspections?

An anonymous call, according to the
log. Someone saw that his pigs were in a distressed state, no food or water.

Man or woman?

I seem to recall that it was a
woman, said Sadler. Listen, is this going to take long? Are those Adelaide
detectives going to come in here and find me talking to you? I like your
sister, I want to help, but

Just a few more quick questions,
said Challis smoothly. So you relayed this anonymous report to Gavin?

Well, it is in his district.

Did another inspector follow it up
when Gavin went missing?

I did, about four days later.

And?

Mr Finucanes pigs looked fine to
me.

How were you received by Paddy?

Sadler looked uncomfortable. I
really dont think

Challis didnt pursue it. He knew
that the Finucanes had short fuses. If Gavin was also on a short fuse the day
he inspected the pigs, anything could have happened.

Whats Meg going to do now? Sadler
asked.

Challis widened his eyes, trying to see
Sadler as a future brother-in-law. Somehow he couldnt see Meg, let alone Eve,
going for it. What else was Gavin working on?

Sadler drew his hands down his face
tiredly. He was in his chair again, swivelling. Typical stuff, the sorts of
things we all encounter. For example, he was trying to trace the owner of some
emaciated cows found wandering on the road. He was investigating the trapping
and sale of tiger snakes. Hed prosecuted a husband and wife for live-baiting
their greyhounds, and again for the state of their dog runs.

Names?

I cant tell you that, said Sadler
emphatically.

It didnt matter. Challis thought it
was probably Joy and Bob OBrien, whod always had one or two greyhounds. Hed
gone to school with them. They were the kind to struggle in school but be geniuses
at cheating the taxman or anyone in authority. There were families like the OBriens
and the Finucanes all over the world,
including his own neck of the
woods back in Waterloo.