Deserving Death (20 page)

Ella leaned against the X-ray table and folded her arms. ‘Care to confirm what’s going on there?’

Hibbins stared at the picture. ‘I was asking for directions.’

‘Guess again,’ Ella said.

Hibbins was silent.

Murray walked around the room and tapped a knuckle on the X-ray machine. ‘The great thing about technology is how it lets you see stuff. You ever been into one of the CCTV control rooms? You have any idea how close we can get with those cameras and computers?’

‘We know what’s going on there is what he’s saying,’ Ella said. ‘So there are two ways this can go. You can tell us everything and we’ll help you as much as we can. Or you can tell us nothing, or more lies, and then Robbie gets the opportunity to help himself by telling us what he knows first, and your chance will be gone. And then, after that?’

‘The usual scenario,’ Murray put in. ‘Arrest. Court. Names in papers. Work strife. Sentencing.’

‘Nothing good at all,’ Ella said.

Hibbins placed the photo on the X-ray table and wiped his eyes. ‘How do I know you’re not in on it too?’

‘What do you mean?’ Ella said, the hairs rising on the back of her neck.

‘How do I know I can trust you, that you’re not here to test me to see what I might say?’

She and Murray looked at each other.

*

Dennis joined Ella and Murray in the interview room. Ella started the tape, listed their names, and advised Dave Hibbins of his rights.

‘I understand,’ Hibbins said.

He sat with his hands clenched together and his eyes shifting between the three of them. He still looked anxious, though he was considerably calmer than he’d been at the hospital and while telling his boss he had to make a statement about Bayliss’s death because he was her old housemate. Once here at the office, Dennis had reassured him that he was safe.

‘And you’re certain that you don’t want legal advice?’ Ella said.

He nodded.

‘Speak for the tape, please,’ she said.

‘Yes, I’m sure that I don’t want a lawyer.’

She placed the CCTV still on the desk. ‘Can you start by telling us what happened on the night that this photo was taken?’

‘I was at my girlfriend’s house,’ he said. ‘I left around eleven thirty.’

‘She said it was more like quarter to twelve,’ Murray said.

‘Somewhere around there,’ Hibbins said. ‘I wasn’t feeling good. I haven’t for a while. Work is . . . I’m not happy. I can’t stand my boss, I think I’m in the wrong career, but I’ve got these huge uni debts now and I need to pay them off, so what choice do I have but to go in there day after day?’

There’s always an excuse, Ella thought.

‘I feel like I’m stuck,’ Hibbins went on. ‘I’m not happy and I can’t see any way out. A while back I told a friend of mine all this and he offered me cocaine. I took a bit and I felt better.’

‘What’s this friend’s name?’ Murray asked.

‘That’s irrelevant,’ Hibbins said.

‘That’s not really for you to judge,’ Ella said.

‘I swear it,’ he said. ‘He’s just a guy I know through work. He’s got nothing to do with any of this.’

They could come back to it later. Ella wanted to get to the meat. ‘And then what?’

‘And it was great, but I thought, I don’t want to go down that road,’ Hibbins said. ‘But things got me down again, and I was out one night and saw this guy doing a deal in the bathroom. I was surprised. I thought people would be surreptitious, not in the open like that. He saw me looking and asked if I had a problem. I said no, and when his customer had gone I asked what he had. And I bought some.’

‘Cocaine,’ Ella said.

‘Yes.’

‘How much?’ Murray asked.

‘Just enough to snort then and there,’ Hibbins said. ‘I felt great. My problems didn’t matter any more. Felt like Superman. I found the guy in the club and got his mobile number for future reference.’

Dennis leaned forward. ‘The guy’s name?’

‘Robbie,’ Hibbins said. ‘That’s all I know him as.’

‘And when you were in the car, on Sunday night?’ Ella said.

‘I’d called him when I left Amber’s place. I’d been flat out at work all week and the boss was being more of a dick than usual. It was all right seeing Amber, but the shine’s going already, I don’t think we’re that suited. When I left, I just wanted to feel better. He said he’d come to meet me. I had to get petrol anyway and we arranged to meet in the street there.’ He nodded at the photo. ‘I bought some off him then drove home. I snorted it and sat in the car playing music for a while before I went upstairs.’

Ella remembered his flatmate saying he’d seemed edgy. No wonder.

‘How many times have you bought from Robbie?’ Murray asked.

‘Five, maybe six,’ Hibbins said.

‘Over how long?’

‘A couple of months.’

Ella said, ‘At the hospital you asked how you could trust us. What did you mean by that?’

‘I thought you might’ve been in with Robbie,’ Hibbins said. ‘He told me once that he had a cop friend who looked after him.’

‘Looked after him how?’ Dennis said.

‘I don’t know exactly. That was all he ever said.’

‘In what context did he say it?’ Ella asked.

‘I’d said something about not wanting to get caught, and he said if he ever did he’d be fine, he had a cop mate.’

‘Suggesting that he wouldn’t get into trouble because this mate could fix it?’ Murray said.

‘That’s how I took it.’

‘Did he say this mate’s name?’ Ella asked.

‘I heard him say one name once, on the phone, then he glanced at me to see if I’d heard. I pretended I hadn’t. Whether it was the cop’s name, I don’t know.’

‘What was it?’ Murray said.

‘John.’

Ella thought,
Morris.

Twenty-one

‘S
o you think it’s not Mark Vardy?’ Murray said.

Ella could see the huge sign above the electronics store, but the driveway was fifty metres away, and between her and it was a solid block of cars. They’d crawled the last kilometre and now they were stopped. ‘It’s hardly up to me.’ She gripped the steering wheel in frustration.

‘I’m just asking your opinion.’

They sat in silence.

‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ she said. ‘Kimball, Hibbins and Morris are all up to something, but is it murder?’

Murray tapped his finger on the window button on his armrest, opening it a crack then closing it. Open, close. Open, close. ‘I reckon it’s Vardy.’

Ella pressed the window lock button on her door as the traffic started to creep. ‘We’ll see.’

Inside the store, multiple TVs played
Finding Nemo.
A leathery-skinned man in his fifties wearing a shirt and a tie came over and smiled at them. ‘Can I help you?’

Ella showed her badge. ‘Robbie Kimball, please?’

‘He’s in the meal room, on his break. It’s this way.’

They followed the man past shelves lined with DVD players, then through a door marked
Staff Only
and into a corridor lit by a flickering fluorescent bar. In the meal room, a thin bearded youth ate noodles from a cup while turning the pages of a water-skiing magazine.

‘Where’s Robbie?’ the man asked him.

‘He went out a minute ago.’

‘Did he say where he was going?’

The young man shook his head. ‘He was about to go back onto the floor then I saw him run the other way. I assume he went to the bathroom.’

‘Where’s that?’ Ella said.

The older man pointed and Ella and Murray went back into the corridor. Murray entered the men’s while Ella checked the women’s. Tiled floor, paper towels, smell of disinfectant, no people.

‘Nothing,’ Murray said, coming back.

Ella was already heading for the door at the end of the corridor. It was locked and there was a keypad on the wall.

‘You have to know the code to get out,’ the older man said. He typed it in.

‘Does Robbie know the code?’ Ella asked.

‘All the staff know it.’ He pushed the door open. ‘It’s mostly to stop shoplifters getting out and avoiding the electronic detectors at the front.’

The loading dock was empty. Ella hurried to the driveway and looked both ways. There was no sign of Robbie Kimball.

Either he’d seen them coming, or someone had tipped him off.

‘We need to talk to Morris,’ Ella told Murray as he followed her back to the car.

*

They started their interview with John Morris by reviewing what he’d said about Tessa Kimball.

‘As I said, Tessa and I had lunch,’ Morris said. ‘We’re friends. We were both upset. I don’t know why she told Carly it wasn’t me. Maybe she was embarrassed because she didn’t want her to come to lunch too.’

Ella studied him. ‘Do you know Tessa’s brother, Robbie?’

‘No,’ Morris said. ‘Why?’

‘But you do know Dave Hibbins,’ Murray said.

‘Yes. I told you that last time.’

‘How close are you and Tessa?’ Ella asked.

‘As I just said, we’re friends. What is this?’

‘That’s what we’re trying to figure out,’ she said.

He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘If you’re done, I’ve got work to do.’

‘Not quite yet,’ Murray said. ‘Do you know Mark Vardy?’

‘I’ve met him,’ Morris said. ‘At some party they had at the station. I know he was Alicia’s boss.’

‘What do you know of the relationship between him and Alicia?’

‘They were colleagues,’ Morris said. ‘As far as she ever said, that was it.’

Murray leaned forward on the table. ‘You’re certain you don’t know Robbie Kimball?’

‘Absolutely,’ he said.

‘Heard of any officers providing protection to drug dealers?’ Ella asked.

‘Certainly not,’ he said. ‘And if I did I’d report them.’

Ella watched him. It was conceivable that Robbie had called him after he’d fled the store, and that Morris knew he was safe.

‘We’ll be speaking to you again,’ she said.

‘No doubt.’ He stood up. ‘I wish though that you’d hurry up and catch the killer, so I can get on with my own job.’

Smartarse, Ella thought, watching him walk out.

*

Every detective in the afternoon meeting held a cup of coffee. The big news was about Mark Vardy and Maxine Hardwick’s wallet. Paul Li summarised that, saying that the lab results for the DNA test weren’t back but Vardy’s prints had not been found on the wallet, and then talked about his and Ella’s interviews with both Vardy and his wife, Anne.

Dennis said, ‘Any news on the trace on the tip-off call?’

‘It was made from a public phone box in Strathfield at 3 am,’ Lola Murphy said. ‘There’s no CCTV close by, no witnesses that we’ve found, and it’s a busy spot so no good for prints either. It was a male voice, muffled in some way, Australian accent.’

Dennis nodded. ‘What’s happening with Vardy now?’

‘Literally nothing,’ Jen Katzen said. ‘He’s not answering his phones, which is no surprise when you hear the messages people are leaving, nor is he calling anyone. Carly Martens has driven past once, and a number of people not yet identified have driven past and shouted “murderer”. He hasn’t left his house since getting back after the interview except to go into the garage, where I’m guessing he’s fiddling with that train set.’

Ella let Murray get up next to tell the room about Dave Hibbins, his links with Robbie Kimball, and Kimball’s mention of a cop protector. ‘Robbie Kimball departed his workplace in a big hurry today as we arrived, and hasn’t turned up since, there or at home. John Morris denies knowing Kimball or anything about any drug dealer with police protection.’

Aadil Hossain was the next to rise. ‘The blond man from the CCTV at Castro’s saw his picture in the papers and called in.’

Murmurs went around the table.

‘Name’s Roger Larsen,’ Hossain said. ‘Apparently he’d met Alicia at the club before and bought her a couple of drinks. He said they’d flirted but it never went anywhere. On the night she died he’d had a few and while he remembered talking to her near the bathroom he didn’t realise he’d come on heavy in the way that Kristen Szabo described. He said he may have been suggestive in a graphic manner – apparently he tends to do that when intoxicated. He did get a taxi outside the club, with the plan of visiting an ex-girlfriend who lives off Unwins Bridge Road in Tempe. He’d texted the woman from outside the club.’

Ella remembered the CCTV of him looking at his phone in front of the club.

‘She didn’t reply, so he changed his mind and went to the McDonald’s on the Princes Highway,’ Hossain said. ‘He went to the woman’s house afterwards and banged on her door. They argued, confirmed by a neighbour who was woken up by the noise, then she relented and invited him in. He was there all night, confirmed by her housemate who was kept awake by both the argument and their subsequent and more friendly activities, and then he left about seven in the morning.’

The reports went on. Macintyre had been found to be in the clear, and Ella noted the details to tell Callum. Dennis had called Noela Cross again and left another message. Ella wondered if her feeling for police was such that she wouldn’t call back ever. Alicia Bayliss’s phone records had arrived and numbers were being checked but so far there were no leads. None of John Morris’s neighbours or Robbie Kimball’s housemates had heard either man coming home on Sunday night; and the hotline was still getting calls but none were proving fruitful. Ella shook her head. All this information was coming in but none of it was getting them closer to the killer. It was frustrating, and kind of depressing too.

When the meeting was over, she got into her car and drove to RPA. She texted Callum on the way and they met in the ICU. Daniel Macintyre lay unconscious in the bed, gaunt and yellow, more tubes and pumps and drips going than before. A woman and man in their sixties sat on either side, gripping his hands.

‘We know for sure that he had nothing to do with the murder,’ Ella said to Callum in a low voice. ‘He’d been a frequent visitor to a homeless shelter in Redfern, and on the night of Alicia Bayliss’s death he was there from seven in the evening until four in the morning, confirmed by the staff. He then walked out and that was the last they saw of him. Some other clients said some of their medications were missing, so I’m guessing he took them during the night then left. It’s maybe twenty minutes walk to the park.’

Callum nodded at Macintyre’s parents. ‘They aware he’s in the clear?’

‘Yes.’ The detectives had told them as soon as they found out. She watched them talking to each other in low voices, then the woman kissed her son’s hand. The father wiped his eyes. ‘So he’s not doing well?’

‘No,’ Callum said. ‘Couple of days to go.’

‘No chance of a transplant or anything?’

‘That might save him, but it’s unlikely a liver will turn up in time, and he’s almost too sick to survive the surgery now.’

Ella looked at the parents again. It was sad. Macintyre had probably imagined his death to be peaceful and calm in the open air by the pond, his life just drifting away, but instead he was here, stuck full of needles and drips, his body fighting for life and his parents suffering right along with him.

Callum nudged her and motioned to the door. Once outside the unit he said, ‘How’s your cheek?’

‘I haven’t even thought about it.’

‘Sexual healing,’ he said.

‘Har har.’ She reached for his wrist and pushed up his sleeve. ‘Good. You’re wearing your present.’

‘How could I not?’ He glanced around the empty corridor and kissed her.

‘How’s your mum?’ she said.

‘She had a cracker of a hangover but she’s fine now. I don’t think she remembers what she did.’

Probably best, Ella thought. That would’ve been two elephants.

‘Want me to come over tonight?’ he said. ‘I finish at ten.’

‘If you can crawl into bed without waking me up. You know how very badly I need my sleep.’

‘I do indeed.’ He grinned.

She smiled back. There’s nothing to fix here, she told herself, nothing at all.

*

‘I feel so confused,’ Carly said. ‘I feel like I can’t trust anyone.’

They were in bed in Linsey’s flat in Bondi Junction, traffic sounds filling the night outside, Carly wrapped up in Linsey’s warm bare arms. She’d spent the afternoon trying to sleep, trying not to think, counting the hours until Linsey finished work.

‘Your friend died,’ Linsey said. ‘You found her body. Another friend has been questioned about it. Nobody’s head would be on straight after that.’

‘Not just questioned,’ Carly said. ‘That wallet. How could it get there if he didn’t hide it himself? And then I think, all this time, I’ve worked with him, thought he was an average guy. And Tessa once seemed normal too.’

Linsey smoothed back her hair and kissed her forehead.

‘He tried to kiss me last night,’ Carly said. ‘We were upset and hugging, and he leaned in. He was about to touch my face too.’ She moved to look at Linsey’s face. ‘That’s weird, right?’

‘Are you sure that’s what he was doing?’

‘Yes. I think so. Yes.’ She tucked her head back under Linsey’s chin. ‘He pulled away because somebody came out of the hospital, but I confronted him and he got all shitty. Said I was being ridiculous. Said I was gay and married, so why would he?’

‘He said you were married?’

‘Practically married.’

They lay there in an awkward silence, then Carly said, ‘Let’s do something fun tomorrow. Catch the ferry to Manly and eat ice-cream on the beach.’

‘I’ve got Maya.’

‘We’ll bring her too.’

‘I have to take her to meet Zoe for a doctor’s appointment.’

‘What time?’

‘Zoe doesn’t know yet.’

Carly pushed herself up on her elbow. ‘So you have to just hang around?’

Linsey looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s what I’d do anyway.’

‘They don’t know how lucky they are to have you,’ Carly said.

*

Ella knew the timing. Callum finished at ten; allow ten minutes extra for conversation or whatever; in his car by quarter past, say twenty past at the latest. Twenty minutes driving at this time of night, give him five minutes leeway, and he’d be here by quarter to eleven.

It was now five to one.

She rolled over and looked at the screen of her mobile again, then slammed it down. Stuff these fancy knickers too, with their scratchy lace. She reached under the covers and pulled them off. He might’ve got busy, there might’ve been a bus crash or something and he couldn’t leave, but to not even let her know? She threw the knickers across the room.

Stop being the pissy girlfriend. He’ll call when he can.

She linked her hands behind her head and deep-breathed at the ceiling. Tried to think about work instead.

Work never lets you down like this.

Her mobile rang. Her heart jumped. The screen said
Callum
. ‘Are you okay?’

‘It’s Dad,’ he said. ‘He’s been stabbed. He’s in surgery in Prince of Wales and they don’t know if he’s going to make it.’

‘Jesus, Callum. I’m so sorry.’ She reached to turn on the light. ‘Are you there now? I’ll come over.’

‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘Don’t.’

She paused. ‘Okay.’

‘It’s just that Mum’s here, and, uh –’

‘You don’t have to explain,’ she said. ‘Callum, I’m really sorry. I hope he’s okay.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Me too.’

‘I’m here.’

‘I know.’

‘Call me when you can. I love you.’

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Bye.’

She put the phone down and lay back in the bed, sick at heart for Callum, for his mum, even for his dad though he was a murdering creep. And for herself too, if she was honest.

The elephant had just turned into a mammoth.