Challis - 05 - Blood Moon (25 page)

You at home?

Yes.

With or without a guy? There were
things that Ellen wanted to ask and know, but then Hals old car came creeping
up the driveway, headlights dipping and levelling as he negotiated the
potholes.

Speak to you soon, Ellen said.

* * * *

Josh
was watching the adult channel, $15.95 worth of fake moans and silicon tits,
alone for the first time this Schoolies Week and too scared to go out. He
jacked off desultorily and thought about his miserable day.

Miserable because hed accomplished
nothing, despite his fine intentions. He was going to report that female cop to
the cops who investigate other cops, what were they called, Internal Affairs,
Ethical Standards? Hell, he was the victim here. But then he had second
thoughts. Cops protected each other, right? You only had to read the paper.
Plus, if that bitch explained
how
shed found himnaked, his balls
painted with red lipstickhed be a laughing stock.

And so hed spent the day doing
nothing.

At that moment he spotted a
rectangular white shape at the corner of his eye. At first he didnt want to
turn his head and look. Images and great surges of strange energy came to him
sometimes, and he feared this was one of those times. Then he did look and saw
that somebody had slipped an envelope under his motel room door. Feeling a kind
of creeping dread, he opened it.

A poorly lit photo of him on the
sand, naked, balls all red.

* * * *

At
the start of the evening news, Scobie Sutton opened to a knock on his front
door.

May I help you?

The man standing under the porch
light shot out his hand. Hello, you must be Beths husband, Scobie, correct?

Scobies good manners were
automatic. He shook the proffered hand. May I help you?

Im Pastor Jeffreys of the First
Ascensionists Church.

He was also Pete Jeffreys and he
owned the local HomeWare franchise. He sold mattresses, rugs, linoleum and cheap
sweatshop furniture. You saw his fleshy, trying-too-hard face everywhere: the
local paper, a hoarding outside his shop, flyers in your letterbox several
times a year. He was always announcing clearance sales.

Scobie got a creepy feeling, as if
forces were aligned against him. He opened his mouth but the shopkeeper got in
first:

If I could just have a quick word
with Beth. Wont take a moment.

I dont think...

With what might have been genuine
emotion, Jeffreys said, Your wife was very close to Mr Roe. What happened to
him hit her hard. She needs support in this trying time. Were devoted to her,
as she is to us. I know shed like to see me.

Shes lying down, said Scobie
truthfully, wondering why he hadnt said she was out, or wouldnt want to see
the man.

Jeffreys watched him keenly for a
moment, then nodded. Tell her I called, will you?

Yes, said Scobie, wondering why hed
said that, too.

* * * *

So
much for the new ruling that police officers should never patrol solo after
dark: five Waterloo constables, including Andy Cree, were off work with some
gastric bug, so Tank was on his lonesome in a divisional van, prowling the
little towns and back roads around Waterloo.

One domestic, one pub brawl, one
road rage incident. He wouldnt get off work until midnight, then he was
expected to go on duty again tomorrow morning, 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. The timetabling
at Waterloo was completely fucked up as far as he was concerned.

At 10 p.m. the dispatcher directed
him to the Penzance Beach area, reports of a drag race. The culprits were long
gone. Tank turned the car around, heading back, and just happened to drive past
Pam Murphys house on his way out. There was a candle flickering behind a
curtain in a side window.

Which probably explained Andrew Crees
Mazda coupe parked in her driveway.

* * * *

34

Friday
morning.

Challis checked the overnight
incident log as soon as he arrived at work, and buried in Thursday nights
litany of burglaries, car theft and assault were two items of immediate interest
to him: Ludmilla Wisharts handbag had been handed in at the front desk, and
thered been a break-in at Planning East.

He clattered down the stairs. It was
7.45 and a handful of the keener 8 a.m. starters were drifting into work,
cluttering up the corridors and yarning with the duty sergeant. Challis edged
through them and asked for the handbag. Why wasnt I told?

Sorry, sir. One of the probationers
handled it, logged it as missing property handed in by a member of the public

Challis checked the log. The handbag
had been spotted by an elderly woman walking her dog on the beach below the
cliffs at Shoreham at six oclock on Thursday morning. She had handed it in at
Waterloo that evening, after a Probus class. Challis sighed. Someone from the
police would have to talk to her, a necessary part of covering all the bases,
but it didnt seem likely that she had anything to do with the killing. He
signed for the handbag, hooked a ballpoint pen under the strap and carried it
upstairs, where he spread the contents out on the incident room table. He
peered at it with the others, separating the items with the same ballpoint pen.

On the surface, Ellen said, it
looks like a simple mugging.

Challis nodded. Wallet, hairbrush, a
packet of tissues, lipstick, Lifesavers, a diary and an address bookboth
small, bound with thin black leatherballpoint pens, lint, tampons and crumpled
parking receipts. He flipped open the wallet. No cash or cards, he said. Medicare
card, library card, thats it.

What about her mobile phone? asked
Sutton, staring gloomily at the bag and contents.

There should be an MP3 player too,
Ellen said.

If she was murdered, theyd both
have been tossed into the sea, said Challis. If she was mugged, theyve been
sold or kept. I tried phoning her mobile and got a recorded message, saying its
switched off or out of range.

He placed everything into individual
brown paper evidence bags. These can go to the lab. Meanwhile, Scobie, I want
you with me. He glanced at Ellen, unwilling to give her a direct order. Ellen?

She gave him an unreadable look. Pam
and I will speak to the demolition contractor.

That leaves Hugh Ebeling, who
ordered the demolition, Challis told her. Later this morning, you and I will
drive up to the city and see what he has to say for himself

Yes.

When he got to the yard with Sutton
five minutes later, Challis saw that both CIU cars had been signed out. Well
take your car, he muttered to Sutton, hoping the man didnt want to talk. He
wanted time to think about Ellen: Ellen distant last night and this morning,
sometimes watching him with great apprehension and intensity. Nothing, shed
said, when hed asked what was eating her.

But Sutton, driving the elderly
Volvo inexpertly and inattentively, did talk, prattling on about his daughter,
the way she was always altering the ring tone on his mobile phone or altering
the desktop display on the family computer. Kids and their gadgets, he said.

Huh, grunted Challis.

There was a pause, then Sutton rattled
out the words, Boss, I think Ive done something stupid.

Challis grunted again. Sutton,
approaching a school crossing, braked erratically, jerking Challis out of his
reverie. What stupid thing?

Sorry, boss. I have to get it off
my chest.

Challis waited, Sutton waited, as
the children crossed the road, the crossing guard returned to the footpath and
the world turned over. Someone tooted and Sutton trundled on again. Challis was
irritated with the mans abject proprieties. Im not getting any younger,
Scobie.

Sorry. Its this business with the
wife.

Her involvement with that crackpot
church? prompted Challis.

Uh huh, Sutton said, and closed
his mouth with a click. His Volvo swerved to avoid a double-parked car, found
its lane again and a moment later gave every indication of passing a school bus
on a blind corner. If Challis hadnt been so lost in thought since last night,
hed not have let Sutton drive. Ellen had warned him often enough. The side
street for the planning office came into view and at the last minute Sutton
steered into it.

They were at my place last night,
he said.

Who were?

On my doorstep. I think they want
to lure her away from me. What if they go after Ros? Kids are so
impressionable.

There was a police car outside the
planning office, John Tankard taking a statement from Athol Groot. Tank looked
sour about something. His partner, Andrew Cree, was photographing a
glass-panelled door at the side of the building. A couple of schoolkids stood
nearby, bored rather than curious. A glazier waited to measure and replace the
broken glass. Challis noted all of these things as Sutton glided toward the
kerb and executed a perfect park.

Speak now or forever hold your
peace, he said.

In a rush, Sutton said, Yesterday I
leaked the Roe Report to Channel Seven.

Challis stiffened. He turned to
Sutton. Then he began to laugh.

I thought youd be angry.

Youve done us a good turn, Scobie.

They got out and crossed the road to
the planning office. I hope you showed the blog to your wife, Challis said.

Sutton shook his head unequivocally.
Oh no, unpleasant things upset her.

Fuck that, snarled Challis. She
needs to know what these people are like. Morning, he said to Tankard, Cree
and the chief planner.

Sir, Scobie, Tankard said.

What have we got?

Cree jumped in, all bushytailed. The
side door was jimmied open sometime last night. Discovered by a cleaner at five
this morning.

Yeah, thanks, Andy, Tankard said.

Whatever their beef was, Challis
couldnt be bothered with it. Anything taken?

They stole a laptop and a printer,
said Groot agitatedly. The early morning air was cool, but he looked plumply
flushed and moist inside his suit coat.

That all? Challis asked, stepping
through the breached door. The forensic team had been and gone, leaving the
frame powder-brushed for prints. More powder on interior doorjambs, desks and
filing cabinets.

Dont think so. Havent had a close
look yet, the planner said.

Whose computer?

Mine.

The only laptop in the building?

Yes. As you can see, the other
members of staff have PCs.

With state-of-the-art widescreen LCD
monitors, noted Challis. Why hadnt the thieves taken those? Where was the
printer?

Here, Groot said, pointing to a
desk against one wall.

Networked?

Yes.

Challis gazed around at the wall
charts, cabinets, blueprints, folders and desk clutter. Why not the slimline
cordless phones? The portable hard drive on one of the desks? The wireless
router?

Maybe the thieves had been in a
hurry.

Is there a box for petty cash?

Yes.

Where?

My bottom drawer.

Lets see.

The cashbox was there and intact.
The drawer would have been easier to jimmy open than the outside door. Trailed
by Groot and Sutton, Challis went from one filing cabinet, work station and
office cubicle to the next, running his gaze along each cabinet and desk
drawer. Only one desk drawer showed signs of damagevery faint.

He pointed to it. Mrs Wisharts
desk, correct?

Yes.

Its been tampered with.

Oh.

When did that happen? Before last
night?

Groot blinked. Dont really know.

Perhaps she lost her key one day?
Needed to force it open?

Dont know.

Or her husband came around to
collect her things after the murder and needed to force the lock?

Its possible, said the planner
doubtfully, staring back down the weeks and months. Its possible her husband
came to collect her things. He warmed to this theory, saying, He was always
hanging around, you know.

Or whoever broke into the office
last night also broke into her desk.

I really couldnt say.

Then one of the office staff arrived
and he seemed to swell and go rigid. He ducked away from Challis and hissed at
the woman, Youre late.

She paled. Sorry, sorry, my kids
are sick.

Even so, Groot said.

* * * *

35

Meanwhile
Destry and Murphy were driving to interview the demolition guy, Ellen at the
wheel, trying to concentrate on how shed approach the questioning. But her
thoughts kept sliding back to the break-in and her awful mood last night and
this morning, so that at first she didnt take in what Pam Murphy was telling
her.