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Authors: Diana Hockley

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BOOK: The Celibate Mouse
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CHAPTER 43

 

Unfinished Business

Susan

Sunday: evening.

E
ndless dark, tumbling over and over, staring face, maniacal eyes. Hands and arms are crushing me, can’t hold him back. A knife flashing and Danny’s–killing me. Someone’s screaming but he’s tied my legs–

‘Susan! Susan! It’s all right. You’re safe!’

My eyes fly open, blinking in the light from the bedside lamp. David’s face comes into focus. My legs are tangled in the blankets; I’m sure my heart rate can be measured in thousands. My nightie is wet with perspiration, my mouth swollen, my stomach muscles twang like guitar strings and meat ants are taking chunks out of my scalp.

David is still dressed in the clothes he wore today, or was it yesterday? One of the lounge chairs is in the corner of my bedroom with a blanket thrown aside, where he’s been camping while I sleep. He helps me to sit up and holds a glass of water for me to sip. The cold liquid feels good going down my throat.

‘You’ve had a nightmare. Not surprising under the circumstances,’ he says.

‘How are the girls?’

‘They’re sleeping in my bed covered in dogs. You were the only one having a bad night.’

‘What time is it?’ Now my throat is lubricated, my voice is almost back to normal.

‘Nearly midnight’

‘It’s not every day I almost get murdered. Twice in one week is over-doing things.’

‘You can say that again.’ David pulls the blanket up around my shoulders then takes the one off the lounge chair. He adjusts the spare pillows, stretches out beside me and flips the blanket over himself.

When we came back from the city earlier this afternoon, exhaustion claimed me for its own. David had gone back to sort out the aftermath of the attack on me and a middle-aged constable had stayed with us until he returned in the early evening. I had showered, climbed into bed and slept until dinner when I had crawled out of bed, drunk some soup and gone straight back to sleep. ‘What’s been happening?’ I asked, wide-awake and interested.

‘The phone’s been running hot. Daniella Winslow gave me a message for you. She was very surprised when she found out what you do for a living, but sends her love and wants you to lunch with her next week.’

‘Oh? I’m surprised she still wants to be friends.’

‘Why wouldn’t she? It’s not your fault Jack and Edna were murdered. Your mother rang. ‘He rolls his eyes, so I can imagine how convivial that conversation was. ‘She heard about the attack on you and the arrest on the six o’clock news. And Melanie, Evan Taylor, everyone from your team, the Chief Super from Brisbane and-oh, I’ve got a list here of your friends for you. They all phoned. You can read it in the morning.’ He smiles. ‘So you’ve got plenty to look forward to, especially lunch with Daniella.’

‘I’m not sure if I’m going to be here next week.’
Don’t be stupid, Susan, you have nowhere else to go. The house is Brisbane is being sold, remember?

‘Aren’t you?’ he asks, surprised. ‘You’ve only just arrived.’

‘I still have lots of leave, but so far my house-sitting hasn’t been what I expected.’

He laughs. ‘You can say that again. Oh, and Briony Feldman rang to invite the girls on an expedition to Toowoomba in the morning. I told them to go, because the quicker they’re back to normal, the better and it will get them away from the media. They’re delighted. Something about the quality of the op shops up on the range.’

I’m grateful to Briony for giving them a treat.

‘All in all, you’ve had rough day,’ he said, quietly.

We were checked over by a police doctor to make sure we were all in one piece before we left town. The girls were, thank goodness, unharmed. I was sore and battered and my lips swelled within a few minutes of being punched, giving me a spectacular trout-mouth. The girls dictated their statements to a young, patient constable, whose ears turned red whenever he made eye contact with them. ‘But why would he go mad and, like, kill everybody?’ Brittany asked, amazed. ‘He’s supposed to believe in God. But he killed people!’ She shuddered.

‘Brit, it’s a long story which I’ll tell you soon, but not right now. The media will be a howling mob, so you’d better brace yourself for lots of publicity.’

Marli pulled a face. ‘Will they come out to the farm?’ she asked.

‘I think your father will make sure they don’t get to the house,’ I replied wearily. For once, Brit didn’t sneer and correct me.

We were a subdued group as David drove us back to Emsberg. Our cars were in the police holding yard to be collected later. The girls were exhausted and in shock, wrapped around each other like two koalas. My mouth was too sore to talk. David reached out and took my hand as he drove.

Mark Gordon’s face re-appeared in my mind. The lips I’d kissed were drawn back in a ferocious snarl and the stench of madness permeated my nostrils. As soon as he’d pounced on me in his study, I realised he was my attacker of four nights ago. He felt the same. He had been unconscious when taken to hospital, but when he’d revived, raved and screamed his motives.

After a takeaway dinner which no one felt like eating, David had taken me out of earshot of the girls and told me what they had uncovered.

‘Mark Gordon is the illegitimate son of Kathleen Robinson by Bob Jellicott. Ferna and her first husband knew the family well and because she couldn’t have children, they adopted him. When he was fourteen, kids in the family about the same age teased him about who he really was. Guess the little shits must have been eavesdropping on adults somewhere along the line. It must have been a terrible shock for him. From then on, he set himself to become a force to be reckoned with. And I guess he hated his dead father with a vengeance, because as far as we can make out, he transferred his feelings to Jack Harlow, who had a penchant for young women and teenage girls. Apparently, Jack sexually assaulted Daniella when she was a teen and Mark found out she was-is- his half-sister. Kathleen married and her husband was killed in an accident when Daniella was two. She never married again.’

The memory of the fleeting, haunted expression in her eyes when I first met Daniella, came to mind. David continued. ‘So Mark felt justified in shooting Jack, thereby keeping the family secret as well as revenge for his sister. I don’t think Daniella knew that Mark was her half-brother. She will now.’

Oh dear, such heart-ache for everyone concerned. If Mark hadn’t overheard Edna talking to me the day I visited her in hospital, she might well be alive.

‘Would you like a hot drink?’

‘No thanks, David. Just tell me rest.’

‘He reached the top echelons of the corporate world relatively young, thirty-five, but then he met a priest, who impressed him,’ says David. ‘But whether he went through an epiphany, or saw a faster path to power, is not clear. He couldn’t go any further career-wise in the corporate sector, so maybe he thought he needed a change. I suspect the cricketing twins may have been the ones who told him about Bob raping his mother and aunts, but we’ll probably never know. Brisbane CIB tried to get some sense out of Lily, but the old girl was sick and rambling when they tried to talk to her.’ David took a sip of my water. ‘Funny, her doctor said they suspected she’d ingested a small amount of rat poison, but they’re puzzled as to how she came by it.’

For some reason the memory of Lily sipping from the bottle of Scotch in her car comes to mind. Someone left that on the floor under the dashboard, knowing she couldn’t resist it. Mark? I tell David about our session with Lily outside the church.

‘Have you still got the bottle?’ he asks, eagerly.

‘Unfortunately, no. Briony threw it in the rubbish bin.’

‘Never mind. I’m told she’ll recover. And we’ve got him on the murders. We’ll be interviewing Gordon’s former employers and of course, his current colleagues. Apparently, he was expecting to be given a Bishopric, but of course, if the circumstances of the murder of Jellicott came out ... the church is very traditional. The resultant publicity would have hurt him and there’s not much doubt that his promotion would have been discreetly withdrawn.’

David shakes his head, smiling coldly. ‘The Historical Society hiring Briony Feldman tipped him over the edge. In my opinion he’s insane, and I doubt he’ll stand trial. We’ll need to talk to Daniella at some stage, but don’t worry, we’ll go gently.’

‘Did he ever marry?’

‘No, he batted for both sides, but I’m sure his boyfriend, if he has one, will melt into the woodwork. Gloria, his so-called secretary, told us everything. He terrified her, but she is addicted to him. He had a contact at the hospital, which of course was how he heard that John Glenwood had come out of his coma, hence the toxic card.’

His face settles into grim lines. ‘We’re questioning Sir Arthur about Jellicott’s murder, though I doubt we’ll be able to get enough evidence, despite Edna’s diaries. We’ll speak to the sisters, including Kathleen, though I doubt they’ll confirm what happened. Alice Tomlinson is still alive, but their generation understands how to keep a secret.’’

He took a deep breath, and squeezed my hand. ‘The circumstances of Mark Gordon’s birth were not his fault. Many people get hard starts in life, but they don’t murder people on the strength of it.’ He turned to face me. ‘What are you going to do, Susan? You are going back to work when your leave’s up?’

‘I don’t know what to do. I love being a police officer. I’ve enjoyed my career and worked hard for it, but David,’ I looked at him, willing him to understand,’ I can’t forgive myself for letting Danny Grey down.’ Tears welled in my eyes.

He remained silent for awhile, then reached over, gently pushed a lock of hair away from my face and stroked my cheek. ‘You let Danny Grey go into that warehouse, didn’t you? In fact, you told him to?’

‘Er, no. But I should have stopped him.’

‘How? The inquiry found that you expressly ordered him not to go to the warehouse and he disobeyed you. People heard what you said to him. So how is it your fault? What more could you have done? You were too far away to stop him and didn’t even know he’d gone in until he called.’

‘I should have realised that he would go,’ I cried.’ I knew he was a hot-headed kid. If we’d have taken him with us that night, he wouldn’t have gone after Crimmons on his own and he would still be alive.’

‘Susan, listen to me. You issued an order and it was deliberately disobeyed. Grey knew he should not have gone in without backup. You have to move on or this will destroy you.’

I nodded. There were other considerations as well. ‘I do need to spend more time with the girls, even though they’re seventeen and finished school. Harry was right. I put too much time and effort into my career, to their detriment,’ I said slowly, trying not to cause my mouth any more angst. ‘But I don’t want to go private or become a security consultant.’

Here come the tears. I grope under the pillow for a wad of tissues and proceed to blow my nose in the robust style for which I am famous throughout the CIB.

‘You could transfer down to my team,’ David says, with a beguiling smile. ‘We worked well all those years ago and we could again. I have a slot on my team for a Senior Sergeant. Pete’s transferring to Toowoomba. His wife has a teaching job up there.’

‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea.’ Senior Sergeant sleeping with the DI?

‘I’ve got my own team back in Brisbane and I don’t want to leave them.’

‘You’ve still got four months leave, so there’s plenty of time to think about it. You need to get some rest and have some fun.’ That sounds good to me.

‘I’ve made new friends down here. Briony, Daniella and maybe even Penelope, if she will forgive me for harassing her at the wake. I want to see those incredible, up-market sheep, which David described in awed tones. I’d like to meet Senior Constable John Glenwood too, poor man.

David clicks his fingers. ‘Oh yes, Lady Ferna gave Sir Arthur’s cat to Daniella with strict instructions to ‘get rid of her.’ Daniella said she can’t keep it, but she wondered if perhaps you ...’

‘What am I? A repository for unwanted cats?’

‘I suppose because of him,’ replies David, jerking his head in the direction of Fat Albert, who is eavesdropping from a vantage point on the dressing table.

‘I’ll think about it.’ An image of the huge, badtempered Genevieve slides into my mind. Perfect; a soul mate for Brit.

‘And then there’s us.’

I look at him doubtfully. Much as I want him, I need to make certain of his situation. ‘What about Donna? And Leanne? And whoever else you’ve got hovering around you?’

He actually blushes. ‘I promise you, Donna is history. Believe me Susan, I broke that relationship off before I came back down here. All that nonsense,’ he looks even more sheepish, ‘was desperation on her part. And in the morning I’ll phone Leanne and end things with her. She won’t be too upset. We only met two weeks ago.’ He turned to face me. ‘I’m so sorry I was such an idiot all those years ago. I didn’t give us a chance, because I didn’t want to understand what you were going through after you had the babies. But we’ve got everything going for us now and I want you for a lot more than just sex.’

I can’t think straight. The thought of us starting a serious relationship again takes my breath away, but the sex will do very well to begin with. Marriage is definitely not an option at this stage. ‘We could date and see if we have much in common anymore.’ Harry’s defection has left me with an alarming lack of confidence.

‘We have two daughters together, that’s an excellent start,’ reasons David. But how does he envisage our geographical logistics?

I try him out. ‘I love this area and this house. And in spite of all the trouble, I’ve become attached to it. And what about the girls? How will they accept our, er, dating?’

He’s full of confidence. ‘I think after today, they’ll be far more receptive to the idea,’
Hm.
He’s got quite a shock coming if he thinks Brittany has had a miracle sweetness cure overnight.

My subconscious has been harbouring a decision since my sister-in-law’s phone call. ‘Eloise and James want to be in the UK near their daughter, Ally. Their first grandchild is on the way, so they’re offering me first option buying this house and I’d like to accept.’

BOOK: The Celibate Mouse
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