Sleight Malice (19 page)

“We don’t have
those answers yet. Contrary to popular belief, we’re not miracle workers.”

She was about
to retort but thought better of it. “What about the Howqua property’s owner?
Are you any closer to locating Maureen McKeown?” Granted, traveling via
Mansfield and Howqua wasn’t the most direct route to the New South
Wales-Victoria border, but it was still feasible that the cottage had been a
staging-point.

“Why don’t you
let us worry about that.” Statement not question. “That’s our job; your job is
to keep your head down and stay out of trouble like we discussed.”

You mean
like
you
discussed
, she thought. It was easy
for him to say, but she had more at stake. To the already overworked police
force, Laura and Ryan’s case was just that, another case, one of many. “Please
don’t patronize me. The short answer to my question is obviously no. I want to
help. Why won’t you let—”

He sighed.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

“No, not
nearly.”

“Let me
rephrase that: How much do you value your life?”

“I'm not going
to let some anonymous email scare me off trying to uncover what happened to
Laura.” Who was she trying to kid? Deep down she was terrified.

“You haven’t
had any more threats, have you?”

“No…”

“That’s
something at least. Actually, there is one thing you could help me with. Just
bear with me for a minute.”

She heard a
series of blips, only then realizing the DI had been talking to her while
driving.

“What do you
know about the five insurance policies totaling more than $1,125,000 – double
indemnity for accidental death – Ryan Moore had on Laura Noble’s life?”

Winded by the
invisible punch, Desley couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.

“Didn’t you
know?”

He damn well knew she hadn’t. If
putting her in her place had been his objective, he had succeeded.

“What’s so funny?”

“You asking me
for relationship advice. In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t had much luck
in that area myself. You’ve seen the jerks I’ve hooked up with in the past. I
always attract the wrong sort, and the men whose shoes I wouldn’t mind having
under my bed don’t even know I exist. Why do you think I’m still single?”

“Married to the
job?”

“That too.”

“I just thought
being a woman and all… never mind.” Fergus downed his drink. “Another?”

“Why not? It’s
not like I have anything to rush home for?” Kim delved into her handbag. “I’ll
get this one.” As she unclipped her wallet, her mobile phone rang. “Kim
Mitchell.” She listened for a moment and then passed it to Fergus. “It’s for
you.”

Frowning, he
took the phone. “Fergus Coleman?”

For a moment
nothing, then, “Fergus?”

“Desley, hi…”

“I left a
message on your phone. I didn’t realize you were with Kim.”

He swapped
Kim’s mobile to his left hand and fished in his jacket pocket with his right
for his own phone. Dead. “We were just having a drink.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t you
join us?” He cringed, knowing what it must have sounded like.

“Another time
perhaps. There’s been some developments, but I’m sure Kim can fill—”

Fergus heard a
chime.

“Hang on,
there’s someone at the door.”

He listened to
the clop of her footsteps on the wooden floor, and then it went quiet – Desley
walking on the rug Fergus assumed.

“Selena…”
Desley’s voice trailed off.

A woman’s voice
replied, but he couldn’t make out the words. “Desley, don’t whatever—”

She cut him
off. “Sorry, I have to go.”

He thrust the
phone at Kim and stood.

She took it,
her eyes widening. “You’re not going are you?”

“Selena’s
turned up at Desley’s.”

“Your point
being?”

“Later, okay?”

“No.” Kim
barred his way. “Tell me what’s going on, Fergus.”

He checked for
eavesdroppers and lowered his voice. “You told me yourself Selena hasn’t been
ruled out. How can we know for sure that she’s the innocent victim she claims,
in the wrong place at the wrong time? As far-fetched as it might sound, have
you considered she might have been in Howqua to meet up with her partner in
crime?”

“Uh…no.”

“Sarcasm
doesn’t become you. Come on if you’re coming.”

Kim caught up
with him at the door. “Don’t you think you’re over-reacting?”

“Probably, but
we’re not the ones who have received death threats.” The door swung shut behind
them. “And since we have no idea who’s behind it, I’m not prepared to take any
chances. You’re a cop, you know the drill.”

“Fergus, wait!”

He faltered,
pausing long enough for her to reach him. Puffing, she grabbed his arm. “Jesus,
give a girl a break; I’m not as fit as I used to be.”

He set off
again. Kim scurried alongside him, clutching his arm for support.

“Don’t you want
to know,” she said in between gasps, “why Desley was calling you?”

“Tell me in the
car.”

Yanking him to
a stop, she said, “Hold on a minute. If you think I’m leaving my car here, you
can think again. We go in separate cars.”

“Fine.” He
pulled his keys from his pocket in readiness, his finger over the remote. “I’ll
see you there.”

“Ryan Moore’s
four-wheel-drive has been pulled from the Murray River.”

He stopped and
turned around. “Say that again.”

Kim kept
walking, closing the gap between them. “That’s why Desley was calling in the
first place. She saw it on the news and Grant confirmed it for her. A body was
also recovered, but we haven’t yet managed to ID him.”

“And when were
you going to tell me?”

“I didn’t want
to say anything until it was confirmed.”

“So you let
Desley see it on TV instead?”

“How was I to
know the media would be onto it so quickly? I couldn’t say anything before. You
know the score. Put yourself in my shoes. What if it had turned out to be
another vehicle altogether? All that angst for nothing.”

“What else
haven’t you told me?” He opened the car door, the interior light switching on,
its cool glow highlighting Kim’s flushed cheeks. From exertion, the cold, the
wine or all three, he couldn’t be sure.

“I’ve only
found out myself and I don’t have all the details, but a number of life
insurance policies Ryan had taken out on Laura have come to light.” She rubbed
her hands together. “Can we please talk about this later, somewhere warm,” she
said, already moving away.

Motive?
“How much money are we talking about?”

“As I said, I
don’t have all the facts and figures, but it’s substantial.” She gave a
backhanded wave. “I’m going. Meet you at Desley’s.”

His mind
reeling, he drove out of the car park on automatic pilot, squeezing into the
traffic. He didn’t even know if Kim was in front of him or behind him. What did
it all mean? Without knowing all the details, he could only speculate at best.
Instead of solving them, the discovery of Ryan’s Nissan Patrol raised even more
questions. Where did the dead driver fit in? Did it lessen or increase the
chances of finding Ryan and Laura alive?

He glanced down
at his mobile phone charging in the cradle. Two bars. With one eye on the road
and the other on the phone display, he scrolled through the phonebook until he
found Kim’s number. “Where are you?”

“Some detective
you are.”

The car behind
him flashed its headlights. He checked his rear view mirror and raised his left
hand. “You mentioned a
number
of life insurance policies. Question: why
have more than one policy?”

“I take it you
haven’t bought any sizeable life insurance policies recently. Insurance companies
set limits over which they require medical examinations, under and all they
require is a declaration.”

“Are you
suggesting then that Laura didn’t know about the policies?”

“It’s possible,
but the signatures will need to be analyzed before we know the answer to that
one. Hey, where are you going?”

With a start,
he realized he had overshot the turnoff to Desley’s place. Cursing he took the
next left, did a U-turn and drove back the way he had come. By the time he
pulled up outside Desley’s townhouse, Kim was waiting on the footpath, her
heavy navy coat wrapped snug around herself.

“What kept
you?”

Ignoring her
comment, he marched up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

Desley looked
surprised to see him, but even more so when she spotted Kim coming up the rear.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “Go away.”

“Are you okay?”

Before Desley
could answer, Selena appeared in the background, her face one of total
bewilderment. “I can’t believe it! You called the cops?”

Desley turned
her back on the open door, her hands held palm out at shoulder height. “No, I
didn’t. Listen…”

But Selena
wasn’t listening. With her coat clutched to her chest and tears streaming down
her face, she pushed past Desley and then Fergus and Kim, fleeing into the
night.

Desley turned on
Fergus and Kim. “Thanks a lot.”

Desley crossed her arms tight over
her chest, her hands gripping her upper arms. “Thanks a bloody lot. She’s never
going to trust me now,” she said in response to Fergus and Kim’s what-did-we-do
looks. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“You cut me off
so abruptly. I just wanted to check you were all right.”

“I told you,
Selena was at the door…” She couldn’t help but catch the sidelong glance Kim
gave Fergus. Desley laughed. “You can’t be serious. She’s pregnant not
homicidal.” Stepping aside, Desley waved the pair in. A blast of wintry air
accompanied them.

She saw the
familiar way Fergus touched the back of Kim’s coat, smelt the faint odor of
alcohol on their breaths and wondered if there could be more to the
relationship than Fergus had admitted.

Gooseberry or
not, she didn't want to be alone. Besides, playing chaperone would give her a
chance to suss out if there really was more to it than mateship. Anyway, what
did she care? Hadn’t she sworn off men?

Playing the
dutiful hostess, she offered her visitors a drink.

“Thanks,” Kim
said, loosening her coat belt, “but I’m driving. Although I wouldn’t say no to
something soft if you have it.”

Either Fergus
was less concerned about his blood alcohol level or he wasn’t driving. “Beer?”

She nodded. “I
think Brandon might have left a couple of cans.” She wasn’t about to let on she
had restocked the beer supplies, and not for the reason she expected her
brother back anytime soon.

If she expected
Fergus to follow her into the kitchen, she thought wrong. She could hear him
and Kim talking, the occasional laugh punctuating their conversation.

A lonely
half-drunk glass of Shiraz sat in the middle of the kitchen bench. Reclaiming
it, she took a couple of fortifying swigs and headed to the refrigerator.
Orange juice. Victoria Bitter. She hesitated, her stomach grumbling on cue as
she added a tub of marinated mixed olives and a black wax-clad block of vintage
cheddar to her load.

“What did that
cheese ever do to you?”

She jumped.
Fergus nodded at the board, a smile playing on his lips. She looked down at the
skinned cheese, the knife embedded deep in it, and felt her face redden.

Kim made an
entrance, snapping closed her mobile phone. “Sorry, guys, but duty calls…” She
stalled. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“But I thought
you had the weekend off,” Fergus said.

“I did too, but
technically the weekend hasn’t started.”

“What’s so
important that it can’t wait?”

Desley buried
her head in the pantry cupboard on the pretext of looking for the crispbread,
which were right in front of her. It sounded like Fergus didn’t want Kim to go.
Was she that much of an ogre he couldn’t bear to be alone with her?

“Need to know
and all that,” Kim said. “What I can tell you is it looks like we might have an
ID for our body.”

Desley’s head
came up so fast, she hit it on the shelf. She winced, gritting her teeth. “Do
you have a name?” she asked, rubbing the sore spot.

“Next of kin
have to be notified first.”

“Well, can you
at least tell us what his connection to Laura and Ryan was?”

“At this stage,
we haven’t been able to find one. The ignition was punched out, so it’s
feasible that the hapless driver stole the Nissan, but when and where we don’t
know.”