Missing (The Cass Lehman Series Book 3) (14 page)

The officer who’d interviewed her had written ‘daughter hostile and angry — difficult relationship?’ at the bottom of the file. In these days of Freedom of Information and political correctness he probably hadn’t written what he’d wanted to, which might have been something like ‘the daughter is a pain in the arse and it’s no wonder her old man did a runner’. Ed tucked the Len Crowley file underneath the Ken Forster one. The thought of beginning the day with a nice old lady to interview was much more appealing than a run-in with a hostile daughter.

Ed was sitting back in his chair pondering the topic of difficult women when Dave strolled in. He was wearing a slim-fitting pinstriped suit with a glowing white shirt and a pink and grey candy-striped tie. Every hair was in place and he was sporting
a five o’clock shadow. He looked like something out of
GQ
magazine.

‘Nice tie,’ Ed said.

‘Thanks.’ Dave gave him a beaming smile. Ed couldn’t work out if Dave didn’t get sarcasm or if he simply chose to ignore it. Either way, it seemed to bounce off him like hailstones off a tin roof. No matter how much noise Ed made, nothing dented his partner’s cool demeanour.

‘Had a good night?’ Ed said.

Dave winked. ‘I may have just met the love of my life.’

‘You have more lives than a cat.’

‘This woman, I’d happily spend all nine with.’

Ed rolled his eyes. He’d heard it all before. Dave fell in and out of love more often than he changed his suits.

‘I’ve got the details for the three missing persons that are the best fit. Only one had DNA collected — I’ll ask Janice to ship the sample over to the lab for comparison. The other two had no samples, so I guess we’d better go see their relatives. I’d like to start with Ken Forster, he has an older sister. She’s his only listed relative.’

‘Older sister? How much older? Is she going to be up for a visit from us?’

‘I hope so, but I’m going to need a coffee first if you expect me to function. Hang about and I’ll just go see Janice. I’ll ask her to call the sister and let her know we’re coming.’ Ed opened up the file again. ‘Her name’s Mavis … Doolan. She lives in Mile End. With a bit of luck she’s got some of his things and a photo or two.’

‘Fine by me, I know a good café on Henley Beach Road. We can grab a coffee there. They do pretty good Greek desserts, too, maybe we could get some takeaway for later.’

Ed had to smile. Dave was what he’d describe as a feeder. It was a wonder Ed hadn’t put on ten kilos since they’d been working together. Mind you, Phil wasn’t exactly a paragon of virtue when it came to dietary habits either, and he’d survived over a decade as her partner without having a coronary.

‘Hello? Earth to Ed? Are you going to see Janice or are you going to sit there all day having a face-off with your computer?’

Ed stood up and pushed his chair back. ‘Back in five.’

The hinges on the gate to the Victoria-style villa announced their arrival. By the time they’d crunched their way up Mavis Doolan’s garden path she was waiting for them with the screen door propped open. She was a small woman, made even more so by the severe curve in her spine. She leant heavily on a silver walker, her head tipped up at an awkward angle to peer at them like an ancient, but very alert bird.

‘You’d be the police?’

‘Yes. I’m Detective Dyson and this is Detective Reynolds. Are you Mrs Doolan?’

‘I am. I was expecting you a bit sooner.’

‘I hope we didn’t hold you up too much,’ Dave said, treating her to his trademark display of gleaming white.

‘It’s not as if I get out much these days.’ She waved an arthritis-twisted hand at her walking frame.

Ed reached out to grab the screen door as she manoeuvred the frame around to lead them inside. The hallway was free of any tables and rugs, probably to make room for the walker. The walls were decorated with dozens of photos: babies, children, weddings, graduations. Decades of happy memories. The air was fragrant with the smell of fresh baking. Ed’s mouth watered.

‘This way. I thought we’d sit in the kitchen. It faces north and it’s warmer than the rest of the house. Good for my arthritis. I’ve made some burnt-butter biscuits. We can have a cup of tea and talk about Kenneth.’

Progress was slow but they eventually made it to the kitchen. A wave of nostalgia swept over Ed as he stepped inside. Long-forgotten memories of his grandparents’ house danced at the edges of his mind. It was an old kitchen, probably sixties vintage, but every surface was spotless. A green and cream Formica table and matching chairs sat in the middle of the room. Pale-green plastic canisters clustered on one of the benchtops, next to an ancient cooker. The only new additions were a shiny stainless-steel microwave, kettle and toaster. Ed would have put money on them being gifts from children or grandchildren.

‘Sit down, I’ll make the tea,’ she said.

They sat. Cups and a plate of biscuits were already sitting on the table. Mavis boiled the kettle and filled a teapot then covered it with a crocheted tea cosy.

‘Let me get that,’ Dave said, jumping up to bring it over. He placed it on the table then pulled a chair out for her.

She thanked him and joined them, easing herself into the chair, her face twisting in pain as she did so. ‘Arthritis, it’s a curse, especially at this time of year.’

‘You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble of making biscuits,’ Ed said.

‘I like to bake and I don’t get the chance very often. My children visit when they can and I see my grandchildren for birthdays and special occasions, but people don’t often stop in for a cup of tea like they used to. All my friends are either in nursing homes or have shuffled off already. This area’s full of young people who work during the day. I’m the last of the oldies. Try one.’ She pushed the plate towards them.

They both obliged. Ed tried not to think about the serving of baklava Dave had foisted on him less than twenty minutes earlier.

‘These are wonderful!’ Dave enthused.

‘An old family recipe. Now, tell me, why the sudden focus on Kenneth? I thought you’d lost interest in his case. Has something happened?’

‘Unfortunately, we found some human remains earlier this week. We haven’t been able to identify the victim. Part of our process is to look at missing persons who match the general description,’ Ed said.

‘I see. Do you have pictures? I could tell you whether or not it’s him.’

Ed and Dave exchanged a quick look. Mavis Doolan might
have been old, but she wasn’t slow on the uptake. She saw the exchange and her face crumpled into a frown.

‘Oh dear, I understand. Has the person been dead for long?’

‘Not that long, but the remains aren’t in a good state.’ He decided not to tell her about the second set. Being economical with the truth could spare people pain.

‘I read about that in the papers. What makes you think it could be Kenneth?’

‘The pathologist has given us gender and approximate age. We don’t have anything more than that.’

‘So it might not be him?’

The hope in her voice made Ed’s heart ache. He knew what it was like to hold onto that glimmer of hope for month after month, wishing for news but dreading it at the same time.

‘We have another two possible missing persons we’re looking at. It’d be really helpful if we had a DNA sample to compare to. Do you have any of your brother’s personal effects?’

‘I’m afraid not. The officers who came to see me when I reported him missing asked the same thing. He didn’t live with me. He didn’t live with anyone, really. I checked with the last hostel he’d stayed at and the nice woman who runs it had a look for me, but he hadn’t left anything behind.’

‘That’s OK. If you don’t mind, we can take a sample from you. It’s not as straightforward but we should be able to work out if the victim was related to you or not.’

‘Oh! Didn’t the first officers write anything down? Ken and I weren’t related biologically. He was adopted.’

Ed tried not to show his disappointment. A lack of DNA would make things very difficult.

‘What was the name of the place he stayed at?’ Dave asked.

She screwed her face up, thinking. ‘I can’t remember. It was in North Adelaide. I remember the woman’s name, though — Mrs Jacobs. She seemed very nice. The hostel was an impressive Edwardian two-storey, on one of the squares.’

‘Did your brother have bad arthritis in his fingers, Mrs Doolan?’ Ed asked.

‘He did, as a matter of fact.’ Her eyes filled with tears and she pulled a dainty lace handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbed at them. ‘I’m sorry. I hardly saw Kenneth but he was my only relative. Mum and Dad died years ago.’

‘I understand. Did he ever break any fingers?’ Dave asked.

‘What a peculiar question! Let me think. It’s such a long time ago. He might have broken a finger or two when he was playing football. Most of them do don’t they? I think he might have broken his left wrist once when he was joyriding on a mate’s motorcycle. He thought he knew how to ride it and ended up driving it straight into a brick wall. Once Mum got over the fright she really gave him what for!’

Ed smiled. ‘Well, thank you for your help. We’ll get back to you if we think we need more information. Do you happen to have another picture of him? The one on file wasn’t very recent.’

‘No, I’m afraid the one I gave the officers was the best I had. He never liked having his photo taken. Oh dear, I haven’t been very helpful, have I?’

Dave reached out and patted her hand. ‘You’ve done everything you could. Now it’s up to us to do the same.’

They finished their tea and she insisted on walking them out. Ed stepped into the cool autumn day and closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the pale sun bathe his face. Talking to the family of victims or possible victims always left him feeling flattened, weighed down by their hopes, fears, sorrow and expectations.

‘Shake it off,’ Dave said.

Ed looked at him.

‘What? You think I don’t feel the same way?’

‘You don’t show it.’

Dave shrugged. ‘Maybe you just don’t notice.’

Ed looked at him. There was something about his tone. Was he upset? That was all he needed, a partner with hurt feelings. He opened his mouth to ask, but Dave butted in before he could voice the half-formed question. ‘Who’s next? The daughter of the other one with no DNA on file?’

‘She sounds like a pain in the arse. We might leave her till last. She’s probably at work at this time of day anyway. I’m thinking we might track down the hostel where Mrs Doolan’s brother stayed … talk to the woman who runs it and see what she can remember about Ken.’

‘We don’t even know if he’s one of our vics yet.’

‘No, but he’s still a missing person and I’d like to give that lady in there some peace of mind. Besides, it’s going to be a while before the DNA results are in and it’s either that or another day traipsing around the dump,’ Ed said.

‘You might bring more grief than peace if her brother’s dead.’

‘I think she knows he’s dead. She just wants some closure. I know what that’s like.’

‘All right. I know one of the publicans who runs a place on Wellington Square. If there’s a hostel run by a Mrs Jacobs around there he’ll know it. Plus, there’s a great burger bar on O’Connell we can stop at for lunch. Have you ever been to the Blue and White? They do really good steak sandwiches …’

Ed tuned out. Dave was back to talking about food again. Harmony had been restored.

CHAPTER
15

The town clock had just chimed 12.30pm when the door swung open and Phil walked into the café. Mum and I were busy contemplating the menu over a pot of tea, and wouldn’t have noticed her if it hadn’t been for the sudden hush that greeted her entrance.

She strode purposefully in our direction, eliciting a few sideways looks from the other patrons. A lot of them recognised her as one of the CIB detectives from Fairfield. Jewel Bay was that kind of place. It was small enough that anyone who’d made it into the local papers was a minor celebrity. The fact that she was heading in our direction was going to give the town gossips plenty of material.

‘Hi Cass, Anita.’ She stooped down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. The sign of affection took me by surprise. It’d taken
Phil a long time to warm to me. The early days had been more than a bit rocky — I’d been trying to help her and Ed with a case, but she’d thought I was the worst kind of charlatan.

‘Would you like to join us?’ Mum said.

‘Thanks,’ she said, claiming a spare chair.

‘I’m surprised to see you. I thought you were in the middle of investigating the dump case?’ I said.

‘Yeah, we’re still waiting for DNA and crime-scene results on that one. The team is working overtime. I’ll join them later. Ed and his grease-slick of a partner are back in Adelaide following up on some missing persons leads.’

‘Dave’s not that bad once you get to know him.’

‘Really? I got the impression he’d hump my leg if I stood still long enough.’ She shot a look at Mum. ‘Sorry!’

‘That’s all right. Why don’t we order some food?’ Mum said. ‘Did you want a menu?’ She waved one in Phil’s direction.

‘Nope, I always have a burger with the lot when I come here.’