The Charlton Affair (19 page)

“I’ll pass that onto Darren and Charlie. I think Darren wanted to tell his psychiatrist and let him tell Michael,” Amanda replied.

“I wish he never had to know at all,” Phoebe said vehemently, adding, “Disgusting! How could anyone do that to a little girl?”

Amanda shrugged, saying matter-of-factly, “It’s a lot more common that most people realize.”

Phoebe looked at Amanda. “I suppose you see a lot of it, working with barristers?”

“Charlie does her utmost to stay away from defending people like that, but it’s unavoidable at times. Mostly I hear stories from my Dad. He’s been in the police for more than thirty years.”

Phoebe nodded, suddenly looking exhausted.

Amanda paid the account and drove her back to Roman’s place, staying long enough to make sure she made it through the security gate before driving off.

Hitting the bluetooth option on the screen, she dialed Charlie. It answered on the first ring.

“How is she?” Charlie asked without preamble.

“Shattered,” replied Amanda directly.

Charlie sighed, “What a shitty situation. I’m so sorry you’re in the thick of it.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m worried about you two.”

Charlie paused and then said, “Er…Thanks. For…”

“It’s OK. Don’t say anything,” Amanda interrupted, “I can see you really like her.”

“No, really. You saved both of us from a world of hurt. Most people would have walked away. That took guts.”

“Please, it’s fine. I just had a feeling that if it started, it wouldn’t stop.” Amanda replied.

“You knew?” Charlie groaned, “I thought I was doing such a good job hiding it.”

“I figured it out, and I think Darren might be close. Your eyes go all gooey when you look at her.”

“Jesus,” muttered Charlie. Changing the subject, she continued, “How’d she take the investigation information?”

“To be honest, it was gut-wrenching watching her absorb it. She’s pretty torn up, worried about how Michael will cope when he finds out, especially the part about his sister.”

“Families can be so fucked up sometimes,” Charlie commented.

“True.” Amanda responded. “Do you want me to drop your car over to your place now?”

“Good idea, I’ll drop you off at home and then you can take tomorrow morning off to make up for losing your entire evening sorting out my crazy life.”

Chapter Thirteen

Inspector Marsh demanded, “What do you mean, it’s not Rawlins? You were sure it was him!”

Sally patiently went through the autopsy information with him again. She explained that according to the pathologist, he just wasn’t tall enough to have murdered Sanchez.

“Fuck! That’s opened it right up,” he said, rubbing his shaved head tensely.

“Yes, sir,” Amanda replied.

“What about the other crimes?” Marsh demanded.

Sally’s face remained blank as she said, “We’ll have to keep investigating.”

“What else do you need to make the breakthrough?”

“Something that connects him to the man we have on CCTV. Possibly the same man the wife said attacked her,” Sally explained.

Marsh frowned.

“Sir, all we’ve got is the iPad in his bedside table. His finances check out. The mistress alibied him for the attack and he was also with her at the time of the car crash, although we know the iPad could have been activated on a timer, or scheduled task.”

“What’s his motive for those? Does his alibi still hold up now she’s dead? Is there anyone who’d want to remove his alibi?” Marsh barked at Sally.

“Sir, it’s the classic scenario. He leaves the wife for the mistress, but doesn’t want lose too much money in a divorce and gets to pick up the insurance pay out too.”

“I remember reading the payout was five million. What’s Rawlins actually worth? What does five million mean to a man who inherited a fortune?” Marsh asked.

“Sir, going back to your earlier questions, we haven’t discovered any enemies of either Michael or Phoebe Rawlins. Michael Rawlins has ninety million dollars in investments with a New York financial company. He’s never touched a cent of it,” Sally replied.

“What?” Marsh exclaimed, deeply shocked. After recovering, he looked at Sally scathingly.

He snarled, “Seems to me a man that’s worth that much doesn’t really need another five million. Sounds like you’ve fucked this up from the beginning.”

Sally carefully kept her face neutral as she replied patiently, “Sir, he’s never accessed the money. Apparently, he’s never even acknowledged the money. In fact, he keeps everything about his past and his true identity a secret. If he were to maintain that position…”

“I see.” Marsh said, “You’re saying it doesn’t matter how much he has tucked away, because he’s never touched it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marsh glared at her. He replied, “Bullshit, Detective Sergeant. I want you to start all over again. And get me an interim investigation report by the end of the day.”

“Yes, sir.” Sally struggled to keep a lid on her anger.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get out and get going.” Marsh dismissed her in his usual style.

*****

Phoebe sat in the comfortable chair in Doctor Brigg’s counseling room.
These appointments are the only thing keeping me together
, she thought.
Oh, and Roman and Mark, of course
. Phoebe was waiting for Doctor Briggs to respond to her last comment.

“I see. She has a conflict of interest. If the media get hold of it, they’ll have a very juicy story,” he reflected back at her.

Phoebe nodded. “Yes. And if that happens, and then Michael finds out, he would feel so betrayed. I could never do that to him.”

“But didn’t he betray you in exactly the same way?” Doctor Briggs asked softly.

Phoebe frowned. “I’ve never really thought of it that way” she replied.

He looked at her over his glasses. “How have you thought of it?” He asked, his eye probing hers.

“I guess I was too caught up in my own problems to think about it too much. Then I just focused on how horrible things were for him. I mean his childhood was so shocking…and now I know it was even worse that I thought.” Phoebe replied, struggling to keep her emotion in check, eyes glistening.

Doctor Briggs handed her a tissue in a soothing gesture, waiting for her to be able to go on.

“But you’re right. His affair was a betrayal. But by the time I had a chance for it to sink in, I was already so worried for him. I mean, I remember wondering why he couldn’t just have said to me that things weren’t working for him instead of going behind my back. But I know now that sometimes things just aren’t that simple. Maybe he thought it would blow over and he was worried about hurting me?” Phoebe said, struggling to make sense of what had happened. “I suppose I think his affair was just another way for him to find something that helped him to escape. I don’t know. It can’t have been easy for him. To always have this…nightmare behind him? Besides, it’s not as if we were ever really on fire, if you know what I mean.” Phoebe added, blushing mildly.

“Go on,” he replied.

“I’d describe our relationship as warm and loving. Kind of comfortable. Like an old shoe that fits well. Nothing like the kind of thing I feel for Charlie. Or what I imagine he felt with her, that poor woman.”

“You feel sympathy for her?” Doctor Briggs enquired in a softly curious tone.

“I do. She didn’t deserve to be killed just because of her relationship with my husband.”

“You’re convinced that was why?”

“I don’t think it could be a coincidence.”

“The police haven’t come up with anything yet?”

“They wouldn’t tell me if they did, but I don’t think so,” Phoebe frowned again, not enjoying the tack things had taken.

“And now you’re taking a step toward independence by moving out? Do you feel ready to leave the safety of Roman’s home?” Doctor Briggs asked solicitously.

“I admit I’m scared. But it’s the right thing to do. I do have an ulterior motive though,” Phoebe admitted.

“What’s that?” Doctor Briggs asked in his mild voice.

“I’m actually too scared to buy another car. I’m going to get a place close enough to walk to work. At Southbank, I hope.”

“Ah, well we can work on your fear of cars. We’ll start that at your next appointment, if you like?”

Phoebe nodded reluctantly, a little sick of facing things.

“Thank you for referring Michael to me, by the way.” Doctor Briggs smiled at her, “I’ll see him next week.”

Phoebe relaxed, thinking that she had at least been able to do something to support Michael.
Therapy will really help him
.

*****

Phillips sat, going through old data at the records section in Police Headquarters. His large frame was squeezed into a small work cube. Grumbling to himself, he flicked through report after report, looking for the material on the Rawlins’ deaths. He knew it was all in there somewhere, the Coronial Investigation report and the police reports. He cursed the task force whose job it was to load old records into the current police database. Clearly they hadn’t made it back far enough. He was not proficient in using the old system and didn’t enjoy this sort of task anyway.

After another fifteen minutes Phillips decided to take another tack. He looked casually around the room. Not too far away from his alcove he saw a middle aged woman at her cube, working steadily. She was a civilian and not a sworn officer, judging by her clothing and demeanor. He got up and went over to her and introduced himself, smiling winningly.

“I was just wondering if you knew anything about the old database?” Phillips asked her, putting as much boyish charm into his approach as possible.

She smiled back, “I’ve been here for about fifteen years, so yes I know it well. Do you need some help?”

“That would be great,” he responded with a warm smile, his relief genuine.

She followed him over to his alcove where he explained what he was trying to find. She laughed lightly when she saw his screen.

“You’ve been looking in the wrong places,” she said. “The old Biggenden files were bundled with the Maryborough stuff,” she said tapping a few keys and bringing up another screen altogether. When she saw his look of confusion she laughed and shoed him away, taking over, “I’ll do it,” she said with a smile. “Come back in about twenty minutes and it should be all done,” she offered.

He happily took up her offer and went down to the first floor cafeteria to buy some mediocre coffee and wait for the woman to finish his work.

*****

Phoebe chose to walk over the Goodwill Bridge to get to her appointment. The Southbank apartment she was going to see was not far from where the bridge came out on the other side, south of the Brisbane River. The walk was pleasant, even though she could not walk too briskly for fear of getting pain in her chest.

As she approached the Queensland University of Technology at Gardens Point, she found herself wondering if Charlie had gone to QUT, or to the University of Queensland, like her. She tensed, as she was suddenly overcome with sadness and longing. Still reeling from what had happened the night before, she tried not to cry. She remembered what Doctor Briggs has said, and slowed her breathing and attempted to focus on the present moment.

The trees, the birds and the view of the river came into her consciousness. She started to relax, but couldn’t completely shake her sadness. She thought to herself,
I can live with it if I keep moving, if I just don’t let myself wallow in it. After all, I know she wants to be with me. It’s just not possible right now.

The rental agent showed her through the apartment, placing great emphasis on the view and the location. The apartment itself was inviting and decently appointed although not spacious. The security was good. Deciding it would be too difficult to find anything closer and better, Phoebe made up her mind to apply for it.

“When can I move in?” She asked the agent.

The agent replied cheerfully, “It’s vacant, so you can have it as soon as your paperwork is processed. If everything works out you can move in this coming weekend.”

“Good,” Phoebe replied, pleased to be getting her life back on track.

*****

Sally sat at her desk typing her report, sipping strong coffee to keep her mind alert and focused. The day was nearly over and she was almost finished. She had summarized everything and was typing up her conclusions.

The problem was she no longer held the same views as when she started. Writing the report had solidified her suspicion it wasn’t Michael behind any of the crimes. As much as she resented the Inspector for his heavy-handed approach, he had been right to make her do the report.

The information Phillips came back with earlier that day had added an interesting twist. Harry and Ranelle Rawlins had most likely died by misadventure. She found it very strange that almost everyone closely associated with Michael Rawlins was dead. The only ones who weren’t dead were Phoebe, who had an attempt made on her life and Stillman, who had been a missing person for more than twenty-five years. He was probably dead, too.

Sally finished her report, concluding that the findings remained open at this stage, but it appeared possible that someone was out to make Michael Rawlins’ life a misery. As she emailed it to Marsh, she thought about what he had said.
The bastard’s right
.
I need to start over
. Vexed, she thought about which leads she should prioritize.

She dialed Phillips, “Pack your lunch for tomorrow,” she told him, “you’re driving us up to Maryborough.”

*****

Phoebe gave a bottle of wine in a gift bag to her secretary.

“Wow, Phoebe,” she said, smiling happily. Pulling it out of the bag she remarked appreciatively, “It’s a lovely wine.”

“Thanks for finding me the unit. They’ve just let me know I can have it,” Phoebe replied.

“When are you moving?”

“This weekend,” Phoebe answered.

“So soon? Have you got movers? What about your white goods?”

Phoebe looked at her secretary. She was suddenly cognizant of all the things she would have to do if she was moving in a few days. With her chest the way it was, she couldn’t do much lifting or packing, or even unpacking. She hadn’t thought it through properly and she was shocked at her lack of foresight. She had been too consumed by other things.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you some movers. Should I get them to pack too?”

Phoebe nodded gratefully.

“What about cleaning out your fridge and freezer for moving?”

“I’ll have to buy new white goods,” Phoebe replied.

“If you pick them from a catalogue or on-line I can sort that for you too. And I’ll organize that service that get’s all of your utilities transferred or started up.”

“Thank you so much. You’re an angel,” Phoebe replied in sheer relief.

*****

Sally said, “That old lady was laughing her guts out at us!”

Phillips drove them steadily southbound out of Hervey Bay heading back to Brisbane.