The Baby Jane Murders (5 page)

Hendrych looked at Kroup
a who was equally surprised by the
question. They both shook their heads, got up and made to leave.
"Thank you, Miss Brunt for your hospitality. The biscuits were
magnificent." Hendrych said.

"Are you sure you have nothing to share with me? A small,
tiny
piece
of gossip?"

"No,
I’m sorry Miss Brunt. We don't have anything to share. It's
all very much still under wraps. Be patient, please, it will all be
in the Gazette, including your valuable contribution. You won't be
ignored anymore, I guarantee you. Good bye, Miss Brunt." Kroupa
prodded Hendrych out of the cottage.

"I need to
recover. Let's go to Portland Street." Kroupa decided.

"What is in
Portland Street?" Hentrych wondered.

"The Chalet Restaurant. Something is telling me we should
dine there. Okay with you? I cannot guarantee
you
’ll get a
Martini, though."

"I never interfere with you
r intuition. Let's go."

They walked. It was a cool summer
’s evening and Kroupa was sorry that
Sara was locked up in his room. She would have enjoyed the sound of
bower birds calling their mating partners and the deafening noise
of cicadas. When they arrived at The Chalet there was only one
guest. He was sitting at the corner table, looking depressed and
sad. The dinner in front of him was getting cold. It was rarely
touched. The man was close to sixty years old, tall, athletically
built and he had clearly been a handsome man in his earlier years.
He didn't look up when Kroupa and Hendrych entered. "This is a BYO.
We must drive to Coles or LiquorLand to get something. We can get a
cab, surely. It’s very close to Katoomba. Let's go." Hendrych was
quick off the mark. Kroupa thought differently. "Excuse me Miss, do
you sell wine
and
spirits
?" he
asked the waitress.

"Only with meals, if tha
t's alright with you?"

"It is
.
"

After being settled, Kroupa observed the only other guest.
He scrutinised him carefully; his tropical suit, sandals with
socks, very unusual in this country, and a straw hat resting on the
chair on the side. The man, despite his
age, was proudly displaying a rich,
curly mane of red hair. Kroupa nodded to Hendrych and pointed to
the stranger. Hendrych took the hint. He cleared his throat and
said. "It is quite cosy here, isn't it. Just the three of us. We
need a fourth for a game of poker, if you would join us,
Sir?"

The man looked
up, shook his head and said in a sad tone, "I don't feel like any
entertainment. Not today."

"
What’s up? I’m Rowan, by the way and this is
Johan."

"
I’m
Stan… Stanley Lackey."

"Are you
holidaying, Mr Lackey?"

"Call me Stan.
No, I’m not holidaying. I am, or was, on a sort of
a business trip that went wrong."

"I’
m
sorry to hear it. Would it help you if you talked about it?" Kroupa
was ready to listen.

"I don't know; it's really ver
y personal and uninteresting. It
would bore you to death." Stan's eyes were getting watery. "Death,
that's it. Death. The death of a being, who hasn't got a name yet.
What a swine I was." Stan dropped his head into his hands and
started to sob.

Hendrych came
to the rescue. "What can I shout you?"

"What?"
a surprised Stan asked.

"What can I
get you to drink?" Hendrych was patient.

"Something
strong. Maybe an original Bourbon? Bottled in Kentucky, or
Tennessee." Stanley started to warm up.

"Bour
bon it is. If they don't have any, you can use my hip
flask." Hendrych call the waiter, who assured him that they had a
variety of Bourbon.

"Take your
pick; Jim Beam, Wild Turkey, Eliah Craig, George Dickel,
Maker's Mark, Evan Williams; will anyone do?" answered the proud
waiter.

"Ask my fried
here." Hendrych pointed to Stan.

"Maker's Mark, please,
and make it a double while you’re at it.
Thank you."

The atmosphere was getting
warmer.
The Maker's Mark arrived and the waiter
stood at the table anticipating their orders. Finally he said,
"Excuse me, gentlemen, but we only serve drinks with meals;
if you are looking for a dinner option, here is
o
ur
menu to tempt you.
He
presented each of them with an elaborately decorated menu and
waited in the distance.

Entrée

-Zucchini and Almond Soup

-Chorizo,
Goat
’
s Cheese & Caramelised Onion
Bruschetta

-Trio of Oysters: Gin & Dill
Vinaigrette; Lemon & Pepper Granita; Chilli, Ginger & Rice
Wine Vinegar

Main

-Pan Fried Snapper with Pancetta and Caper
Butter

-Pepper Beef
Fillet, Roast Mushrooms & Roast Tomato

-Baked Eggplant filled with Tomato, Feta
& Almond, with Soft Polenta

Dessert

-Caramelised Figs with Lemon Mascarpone

-Raspberry
Cr
è
me Br
û
lée &
Vanilla Bean Ice Cream

-White Chocolate
‘Fondue for
Two
’
, Biscotti, Strawberries, Figs,
Peaches, Marshmallow
.

Kroupa and
Hendrych carefully chose and asked Stan what he wanted. "I don't
have an appetite, but please go ahead."

When the order was completed, Kroupa indicated to the
waiter, ordered their dinners, another double for Stan, who did not
object, and
a Dry Martini and a handle of Black. The waiter was
slightly taken back, so Kroupa explained to him that he wanted a
pint of Tooheys Old.

"Will
a schooner do, Sir?" the waiter asked.

"Then make it
two schooners. I can 'handle' that."

While they were
waiting for their
orders, they eyed and scrutinised each other.

Stan wante
d to talk, that was obvious, but he didn't know how to
start. He gulped down his second double and indicated that he
wanted another. The Bourbon on his empty stomach began to take
effect. He twisted in his chair a few times, then got up, wobbled a
bit, then pulled his chair to Kroupa's table and started, "So you
wanna know my secret? Well, it goes like this. A middle aged man,
single, inexperienced, reasonably well of, steady income, and a
young, pretty, inexperienced school girl, sixteen-and-half, maybe
seventeen, claiming she was eighteen, I liked her, and, bingo, one
day we did it. And then she asked me what I'd give her for her
eighteenth birthday. I panicked. Then she said she was gonna have a
child! I panicked more and more. I was up for carnal knowledge. I
had to do something, you know? I had money. I showered her with
money and asked her to get rid of it. She agreed and had one of
those backyard abortions. I never saw her again, but I knew her
name. This thing was gnawing at me for twenty-five years. I
couldn't live my life being ashamed of myself. I started to search
for her, to apologise, and possibly make good. How, I didn't know.
The baby was dead, killed before it could see the rotten world we
in. I traced her and waited and waited. I couldn’t summon up the
courage to approach her. Finally, when I plucked up the courage it
was too late. Some bloody bastard had killed her before I could beg
her for forgiveness."

Stanley was not sobbing any more, he was crying
uncontrollably,
shaking as if some electric current had taken hold of him. Kroupa
and Hendrych remained silent. Kroupa looked at the stunned waiter
and moved his arm in a circle, indicating he wanted another round
of drinks. When they arrived, Stan calmed down a bit. "Sorry,
gentlemen, I couldn't help it. Dear Trudy, hammered by some
bastard."

"You had
n't seen Miss Winterbottom in all those years?" Kroupa
asked quietly.

"No. Hold on! How
did you know her name?" Stanley asked with
bewilderment and fear.

"Because we are investigating her murder.
It's just a
coincidence that we met you."

"Gentlemen, please, find the scum
bag who did this and let me at him.
If you need anything, I can give you money. Just find him,
please."

"We'll do our best
. It might take some time, but we never fail.
Trust us."

T
hey
stayed in silence for the rest of their dinner. Stanley tried to
break the silence but in vain. After the bill was settled and
they’d said their good-byes, Kroupa and Hendrych pensively walked
back to the Hydro. They needed the walk to shake off the effects of
so many drinks. They were almost sobered up by the time they
entered the foyer. It was empty save one smartly dressed gentleman.
"Baldwin, Edward Baldwin. Yes, I am certain that I made a two-day
reservation for a room and breakfast. Please, check
again."

"Ah, here we ar
e. Mr Edward Baldwin, of Coogee, 2034 in Sydney,
yes? I hope you'll enjoy your stay with us more than the heat in
Sydney. Here is your key. Room 215. With a view to the valley. Have
you got any luggage for Jim to take up for you?"

"No, I travelled light. It's
only two nights. Thank you." Mr Baldwin
was slightly irritated. He took his Samsonite 'professor bag' and
went to the staircase.

"Tomorrow we
’ll take a train to Katoomba to do a little shopping at
Coles, a lot of talking and even more listening. How does that suit
you?" Kroupa asked.

"
Fine by me. Do they have a pub there?" Hendrych was still
getting over his Martinis.

"Actually Katoomba has one of the highest number of
watering holes per capita in the region." Kroupa assured him. "And
then we
’ll
visit dear Miss Whiteford; no drinks there."

------------------------

"May
we speak to the manager, please?" Kroupa approached the
young man at the cash register.

"
Ms.
Lee?" the man was less than welcoming and seemed to be
concentrating on scanning items correctly and wanted to avoid any
interruptions.

"Where can we
find her?" Kroupa asked politely.

"Is
something wrong? Maybe I can help you." The young man
seemed worried.

"Why should
anything be wrong?" Kroupa was getting impatient.

"If there is nothing wrong, go to the other side of the
shop and ask somebody
there to show you to her office. She should be
there."

"Thank you for
your advice," Kroupa terminated the conversation
with a sarcastic bow. Hendrych, who was standing by without a word,
said, when they were walking to the other end of the store, "That
cheeky brat. That's the problem. They banned the cane in schools.
No discipline whatsoever."

Finally they met Ms Eden Lee. She was a plump woman of
about thirty ears, without much make-up, which wasn't needed; she
was
naturally quite a handsome woman of good complexion. She
came to meet them in front of her office and invited them in. She
offered her visitors a seat in low upholstered armchairs, while she
sat in her
enormous
executive leather office chair,
pumped up to its top height, so that behind the custom-made large
office desk she towered over her visitors. But neither Kroupa nor
Hendrych were easily intimidated. After the initial pleasantaries,
Kroupa got straight to the point. "What can you tell me about
Ms
Angelina
?"

"Ms Baldwin has been working with
us, I think, for well over three
years. A strong woman. Reasonable references. Sometimes difficult
to deal with, you know, temperament. I don't know, their generation
is taking too many drugs and drinking too much, sometimes together,
and they are not ashamed to excuse themselves from work because of
a hangover!"

"So,
the usual. And what about Greg Hurst and Mark
Cotton?"

"Don't even mention those
two in front of me, please. I’ve had quite
enough of them. They’re nothing but trouble. They drink before
work, they’re lazy, rude, and have a bad influence on the others. I
am almost certain they are close to Ms Baldwin. It won’t do her any
good, if she gets too friendly with them. I wanted to sack them,
but George Cotton, Mark's father, works for the security company; I
don't trust him, he's got such a shifty eyes. I remember once,
there was a break-in the car park, and in the morning we found a
lot of empty alco-pop bottles, and Mr Cotton said there was nothing
unusual about it. More than two hours of the CCTV recording were
missing. Blank. I rang the company and they told me they couldn't
talk because the police were there. Operation 'Safe youth'. Child
pornography, do you remember? I suspected foul-play and wanted to
get rid of all three of them, but you know what the unions and the
youth council are like. 'You have to give them a chance, they’re
still young, boys will be boys'… and all that crap, excuse my
French."