Malicious Intent (18 page)

‘It’s not a lot to go on,’ Filano said. ‘As for Clare Matthews, she was on my patch. Pathologist ruled out a struggle, which meant it was a job for us local boys, not Homicide. So she got KATHRYN FOX

137

pregnant, screwed up her life and took the easy way out. The family had trouble accepting that, but nothing points to foul play. Ah, Kate, you know that already. Didn’t you consult on that case, too?’

Faulkner cleared his throat. ‘If Deab’s been dogged, wouldn’t your boys have noticed if he popped in to have a piss on the Central Coast or took a nun up for a midnight leap?’

Anya moved over to the whiteboard and circled her drawing.

‘We still can’t explain why these women were exposed to the same type of fiber.’

‘Are you implying that they knew each other?’ Filano asked.

‘Even if they did, it doesn’t mean much.’

‘If they knew each other, the significance of the findings is even more important. Whatever is in their lungs could be quite harmful.’

Faulkner clicked his pen again. ‘Doctor, I understand you work freelance. You can pick and choose your workload. Well, we can’t. We’ve got thirty other jobs at the moment. Break-and-enters, robberies, sexual assaults, indecent assaults, and a record number of shitty checks being passed. Not enough money to have the Fraud Squad interested, so we’re lumbered with them too.

‘The coroner signed off on the Deab kid, the anonymous call caused us a headache chasing our tails, and right now we don’t have squat except for a cigarette butt that the prosecutor thinks would be thrown out in court since it could have been dropped in the toilet anything up to a week later. As far as we’re concerned, we want if off the books. And now you expect us to drop everything to chase up something that doesn’t mean anything? And who’s gonna pay for all this? Our overtime budget doesn’t cover the jobs we’ve already got. Kate, tell us you’re kidding?’

Kate Farrer looked at the frenzy of activity in the office outside. With the sound muted by the thick glass wall, the scene resembled a silent movie. Inside the room, no subtitles were necessary. She turned to Faulkner. ‘Before you go, could 138

MALICIOUS INTENT

we compare phone records and at least see if there’s anyone in common they called?’

‘I can tell you right now. The Deab girl didn’t have a mobile, didn’t go out and didn’t have friends. So there you go.

No contacts, no connections. Is that all? I’m due at the crime lab.’

‘Hang on Ern, let’s finish this,’ Filano said. ‘The Matthews woman lived in a communal house and didn’t have a mobile either. Not a lot of point checking phone records when half-a-dozen people use the phone. I don’t know about your Commands, but mine can’t afford to waste funds on nonessential record searches.’

‘What about bank accounts?’ Anya directed her question at all three detectives.

Filano had the answers. ‘That’s the interesting thing. The Matthews woman’s account stayed active the whole time she was reported missing.’

Kate found a stain on the floor, which she scuffed with one foot. ‘How do you know it was her accessing the account?’

‘Law of averages. Not many kidnappers take the trouble to log on to the net to pay their victim’s bills.’

Comb-over stood first and recaptured his mutinous hairs, the set of four again together, traversing the bald head. Anya wouldn’t hesitate to cut them off given half a chance.

‘Anything else?’ he smirked.

‘As far as we know,’ Anya said, ‘at least two of the women, Debbie Finch and Fatima Deab, had completely shaved pubic regions.’ She regretted the comment as soon as the words came out.

Ernie Faulkner tried to look shocked.

‘That
is
suspicious! It’s something my ex-wife did too.’ He loosened his tie. ‘In your experience, Doctor, do you find pubic shaves suggestive of dangerous or even lewd behavior? If that’s the case, I strongly suggest you contact the God Squad or even the Morals Police. They have unlimited time and resources to address your concerns.’

KATHRYN FOX

139

Anya felt her face flush as she tried to explain. ‘Less than five percent of women at autopsy have shaved pubic regions. Lots have partial shaves, like bikini lines. But unless they’re models, swimmers or prostitutes, it’s uncommon.’

‘I don’t know if Clare Matthews was shaved or not,’ Filano replied, ‘but if that’s all you have . . .’

Faulkner turned toward Kate. ‘If you’re looking for stuff to do, you could always check every beautician in the state and see whether they remember waxing these particular pubes. Might make some good contacts.’ He leaned over her and whispered loudly enough for the others to hear, ‘Maybe you should try a Brazilian. Never know, it could do wonders for you. They tell me walking to the letterbox is a whole new thrill.’

Anya moved quickly to intervene in case a fight broke out.

Instead, Kate stood, her jaw clenched. ‘The point is, it’s another coincidence. And I don’t believe in coincidences.’

Faulkner moved his face closer. ‘I find it coincidental that out of everyone who’s been involved in these cases, you two are the only ones who think the deaths are sinister. You obviously spent a lot of time on this one
together
.’

Kate breathed through flared nostrils and Anya expected her to throw a punch this time. Thankfully, she reconsidered.

‘I think you guys have had your say. We all know where we stand. Oh, and Faulkner, next time you go perving at the Pussy Club, try to make sure you’re not caught in a drug raid. It’s appalling public relations, and such a bad example to every officer in the service.’ She waited for a reaction, then added,

‘Television really does add ten pounds, even when you hide your face. On my screen it looked more like twenty.’

Anya’s eyes widened. She’d heard about a detective being caught in a compromising position during a raid but had no idea who it was. This was justice, of a sort. Faulkner’s speedy exit proved it.

Ray Filano uncrossed his legs, stood and bowed again to Anya. ‘Sorry about Ernie, he’s got a lot on his plate. Next time we should meet over lunch.’ As he stood in the doorway, he 140

MALICIOUS INTENT

added, ‘I wouldn’t lose heart. There’s always the chance that all of us are wrong and you two are right. Who knows? You may have stumbled onto three perfect murders.’

‘If they were perfect, I wouldn’t be investigating them.’

Anya closed the door.

Kate walked to the glass window and slouched, hands on her hips. ‘I know they’re arseholes, but you’ve got to see it from their point of view. They’re drowning in work. Unless we come up with something a lot better than incidental findings, these cases are closed.’

23

Mmmy!’ Ben jumped out of the backseat and ran to Anya, leaping into her arms. Neither minded the spitting rain.

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ She held her son tightly and drank in the scent from his apple shampoo.

‘Mummy, I’ve got big again! See my muscles?’

Benjamin slid to his feet and flexed his biceps.

‘They’re huge! You must have been eating meat, fruit
and
vegetables.’

‘Uh-huh, except Brussels sprouts. They’re yuk.’

‘Fair enough,’ she said, tickling his ribs. ‘No Brussels sprouts this weekend. If you go up to your room, there’s a surprise waiting for you.’

‘Wow,’ he said, steering her arm toward the house. ‘Dad, you come and see, too.’

Martin pulled a duffle bag from the front seat and placed it on the footpath. ‘You go on, matey,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

Anya waited until Ben was inside the house. Martin wore a gray suit and mauve tie she didn’t recognize. ‘You’re late. Two hours this time.’

Martin pulled a face and waved at the house next door.

‘Mrs. Bugalugs is at it again.’

Anya turned to see the upstairs curtain moving. The old 142

MALICIOUS INTENT

woman was obviously nowhere near as deaf or blind as she constantly made out.

‘I wish you wouldn’t call her that. Ben thinks it’s her real name.’

‘Please don’t start with me, Annie.’ He tugged at his tie as though it were the enemy. ‘I’m stressed enough after going through a long interview.’

Martin hadn’t worn a tie in years, it seemed. Anya wanted to know what his work plans were and where they would take him and their son. If she asked, Martin would accuse her of prying. She decided to wait and see if he brought up the job himself.

‘How’s work?’ He glanced up the street. ‘We saw you on the news one night.’

‘That case went well. The rest is slow but I knew it would be for a while.’ Anya touched his arm and pulled back when he moved away. ‘Before you go, we need to talk about Ben. Where he’s going for preschool and school?’

‘We’ve been through this. He’ll go wherever is close to our place.’ Martin picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder, just missing a cyclist riding on the path. ‘Ride on the road, you idiot. And get a helmet!’ he called after him.

‘Forget the bike. Look, our son has special needs,’ Anya pleaded. ‘We have to make sure they’re met. We owe that to him.’

‘As far as I’m concerned, he’s normal. I don’t want you using words like “gifted” around him. Life’s got enough pressures without us labeling kids and expecting things from them.’

Ben tapped excitedly on the bedroom window and gestured for Martin to come. His father held up three fingers, so Ben would know he wouldn’t be long. Anya suspected Ben wanted them to stop talking so they wouldn’t fight.

‘I know, but I didn’t label him that. The teachers at his old daycare wanted him assessed. You must know he’s miles ahead of his age group. He needs to be stimulated, constantly challenged. There’s a progressive school not far from here.’

‘Sure, the kids learn the names of places and what flags look like. But how much running around do they do? Playing KATHRYN FOX

143

football, climbing, learning how to be a boy. He’s not a computer; he’s a child who needs to play. I won’t let anyone set that kid up for failure. Life’s going to kick him in the guts soon enough.’

Anya had been through this with Martin before. She understood his point, but felt as though Ben should be given the best opportunities, or she would have failed as a parent. The difficulty was that Martin was exceptionally intelligent, but viewed himself as a failure. He compensated by lowering his expecta-tions of others.

‘Will you please consider talking to the school and see what they do?’

Martin looked at Anya. ‘I’m not agreeing to anything, but I will think about it.’

Ben managed to push open the window. ‘Dad, Dad, it’s a castle with knights, And there’s a new rug on the floor with a town on it.’

‘Sounds great. I’ve got to meet Nita so I’ve got to go. You be good for your mum.’

‘I will, Dad.’ Ben ran downstairs and threw his arms around his father’s leg. ‘I love you.’

‘Me too.’ Martin looked over at Anya, who pretended not to notice. She still felt the pain of separation from her own father and couldn’t believe her son went through the same thing.

She decided not to let him leave without asking, ‘You mentioned an interview.’

Martin stroked his tie with one hand and picked up Ben with the other. ‘It’s with a pharmaceutical company at Ryde, as a drug rep.’

Anya tried to conceal her excitement. ‘Does this mean you and Ben might be moving closer?’

‘No promises, but they told me I was virtually guaranteed the job.’ For the first time in two years, he seemed positive about his future. Arms around his son, he patted down a divot in the grass next to the path with his foot. ‘Being a single par-144

MALICIOUS INTENT

ent isn’t always easy. It’s pretty hard on Ben, packing up his stuff all the time. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately about what he needs.’

Maybe Martin had decided to grow up and act responsibly, Anya thought. ‘Good luck,’ she said, and kissed his cheek, surprising them both.

‘Annie, I am trying,’ Martin said. ‘Honestly.’

This time Anya believed it.

He waved again at the window next door and shouted,

‘Mrs. Bugalugs. Good to see your beak’s still sticky.’

Anya pinched his bicep hard.

He smirked. ‘Lighten up. Just checking how deaf the old busybody really is.’

Martin hadn’t changed. He still enjoyed flouting convention and disturbing the status quo. Years ago, it had been incredibly exciting. Now, it seemed annoyingly childish. She had to live with the old woman as a neighbor whether she liked it or not.

‘Thanks for the toys, Mum.’ Ben wriggled to the ground.

‘Can I play your drums now, PLEEAAAASE?’

As Ben waved to his father, Anya thought of ‘Mrs.

Bugalugs’ next door having a gripe at the noise and suppressed a grin. She carried Ben up the stairs and into a small annex off her bedroom. He gasped at the full set of drums, complete with newly purchased sound silencers on the skins, to dampen the sound.

‘Hey, what are these?’ he asked, tentatively touching one of the padded coverings.

‘They’re supposed to make the playing quiet. So the old lady next door doesn’t get upset when we practice.’

The few occasions Anya had attempted to play had led to visits from the cranky woman next door, complaining about the noise. Anya found this ironic given that the same neighbor complained that she couldn’t watch television because of terrible deafness, and couldn’t read the teletext because of poor eyesight.

She had a habit of griping about everything and everyone.

‘Would you like to have a go?’ Anya placed him on one of KATHRYN FOX

145

the two stools and pressed play on a CD player beside her bed.

The Commitments belted out ‘Mustang Sally.’

Ben picked up one pair of sticks and banged them together over his head. ‘One, Two, Three, Four.’

Anya used her left foot for the high-hat, locked down to dampen the noise. That foot tapped the rhythm and her right-hand stick accentuated the downbeat. With her left hand, she controlled the snare drum and cymbal. Her right foot kept time with the kick drum base pedal.

Ben banged away furiously, oblivious to rhythm. He sang loudly, but, like his father, Ben sang as though he were tone deaf. It didn’t matter, though. When they played the drums together, Anya couldn’t be happier. This was the sound of a child and parent uninhibitedly enjoying themselves, feeling secure – having fun – together. The sound of unconditional love and both of them knew it.