Read The Charlton Affair Online
Authors: MJ Doherty
The Charlton Affair (20 page)
He replied, “We were busy looking at the husband. It’s no big deal. So what if Jessop got to her first. We can always pump Jessop for what she’s got.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It just pisses me off that Amanda Jessop has been up here sticking her nose into things. And what about that break-in, eh? Think it was her?” Sally asked.
“That old Sergeant said none of the local kids were involved this time, so who knows? He wasn’t giving anything away,” Phillips replied.
“Yeah, he’s a wily old bastard. At least Jessop didn’t get to speak to him. He was a gold mine.” Sally added, “Interesting that he and the old lady think Stillman was a sociopath. The old sergeant thought he was doing the family a favor by not telling them about those tortured animals he was investigating Stillman for back in the day. I’m not so sure about that. Might have saved old Harry from pining after the boy all those years.”
Phillips replied, “I wish he’d kept some official records. We might have been onto this a bit earlier if there was something in the system.”
“He’s going to dig up his old notebooks and send them down to me,” Sally replied. “They’ll have everything we need. Even if he had done an official report, it probably wouldn’t be in the system. Look at how hard it was to get stuff that’s only ten years old, never mind twenty-five.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Well, I guess that’s why Stillman ran off back then. Didn’t want to get caught.”
“Makes sense.”
“I wonder if he’s still out there somewhere, like the old lady thinks? By all accounts he would’ve grown up to be a big bloke. Sounds like he could be our muscle-man.” Phillips said.
Sally nodded, not replying. Absently, she removed her sunglasses and chewed on the earpiece as she considered the situation. She completely ignored the gorgeous scenery as they drove south. She thought,
either we play nice with Amanda Jessop and ask her to give us what she knows, or we play hard and threaten to investigate her for the break-in
.
It’s in Amanda’s interests to hand over what she knows. It’ll only help her boss’s client.
Sally realized Amanda probably knew the Biggenden police were aware she was in town on the night of the break-in. They hadn’t done anything about it. The wily old sergeant wasn’t stupid. He hadn’t bothered to investigate thoroughly for a couple of reasons. Firstly, nothing of value was taken and most importantly, Michael was Charlie Moss’s client. He wouldn’t want Charlie’s PA charged for helping his case. Sally sighed, realizing she didn’t have much leverage over Amanda after all. She made up her mind and grabbed her mobile phone.
“Darren, it’s Sally Middleton,” she said when Darren Franks answered.
“Sally, how are you?” Darren replied affably.
“Good, and you?” Sally replied, doing her best to sound relaxed and cheerful.
“Excellent. How can I help you?”
“Darren, I’d like to have a chat with Amanda Jessop.”
“Really?” Darren exclaimed, surprised. “What on earth for?”
“Cards on the table here Darren. Off the record, OK?”
“Sure,” Darren replied, curiosity evident in his voice.
“The investigation is taking a different tack. I know Amanda’s been looking into things on behalf of Michael Rawlins, and I think she might have some useful information.”
Darren replied, “I’ll arrange a meeting on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Sally asked, her voice hardening.
Bloody lawyers
, she thought,
they never give anything away
.
“I want you to tell the Crown Prosecutor that you agree with me when I make an application to relax my client’s bail conditions.”
“I’ll agree to give it some thought and discuss it with you, but no promises. Now are you going to set the meeting up, or do I have to bring Amanda in and interview her?”
“I’ll set it up for tomorrow.” Darren replied.
“I’ll wait to hear from you.” Sally ended the call. Turning to Phillips she said, “He wants Rawlins’ bail relaxed.”
“Cheeky bastard!”
“Yes. The thing is, I don’t want to send a message to the media that we don’t think it’s him anymore. Might tip off the real killer. But maybe we can work something out, depending on what they want and why they want it.”
Phillips nodded.
“When we get back, we’ll be grabbing our gym bags and heading over to Sanchez’s brother’s gym.”
Phillips snorted in laugher.
“What?” Sally demanded.
He said, “When was the last time you worked out?”
*****
Phoebe announced her intention to move out over dinner that night. Roman was devastated, his handsome face a mask of shock and disbelief.
“You can’t move out! Are you crazy?”
“You’ve been so good to me, but I need my own place. I need to start behaving like an independent grown up. I’m really happy here and I’ll miss you both, and Leo too, but it’s time for me to do this,” Phoebe replied firmly.
“What part of ‘someone’s trying to kill you’ don’t you get?” Roman replied hotly.
Mark put his wine glass down and interjected, “Now darling, she can make her own decisions, even if they are stupid ones.” He looked across the table at Phoebe with reproof on his mild face.
Phoebe stubbornly asserted, “I love you both. You’ve been so incredibly wonderful, but I need to do this. It’s not fair to make you put up with all of this drama. It’s not fair to put you in harm’s way. Besides, I need to start rebuilding my life, get out of limbo.”
“But you won’t be safe…” Roman started to say.
Phoebe cut him off, “The building has security. You can’t get in without buzzing someone at the gate and then again at the entrance. The car park needs a swipe and there are cameras everywhere.”
“Sweets, I just hate the idea of you being all alone,” Roman said, his face still showing how appalled he was at her decision.
“I won’t be far away,” Phoebe tried to sooth him.
Roman looked disconsolate.
Mark replied in his usual practical way, “We’ll help you move.”
Phoebe smiled at him in relief and gratitude.
*****
Sally stoically rode the exercise bike, sweat gathering uncomfortably on her body. She hadn’t realized how unfit she’d become. Sourly, she reflected that it had been her idea to do this. She wanted to rule out her last vestige of suspicion against Michael by investigating any possible connection to a muscular man through his mistress. The other detectives working in the task force had already interviewed the mistress’s brother, Henri Sanchez. Sally had seen the tape. He had an alibi and hadn’t been at all helpful.
But who knows?
Sally thought,
maybe one of his friends is involved, with or without his knowledge?
She looked over at Phillips. He was bench-pressing some ridiculously large weights. One of the regular gym members, of average height, was spotting for him. It was nearly 9 PM and the place was almost empty.
The gym regular said, “Come on man, push!”
Phillips heaved the weight up one more time. The man helped him get it back down onto the rack.
Sitting up, Phillips wiped his brow with his towel as the man clapped him on the back. Sally noticed how overly muscular and defined the man was.
He’s got to be using steroids
, she thought. She watched as the two men engaged in some banter as Phillips took his turn spotting. She got off the bike and stepped onto a treadmill. Setting the machine to a slow pace, she walked, relieved.
This I can do
, she thought. The treadmill faced a wall of mirrors, allowing her to watch almost everything in the large gym without being noticed. The only space she couldn’t monitor was the area directly behind her.
Glancing at the weight bench, she saw Phillips still standing behind his new buddy. She hadn’t known Phillips had so many tattoos. His back and shoulders had various images inked in, none of them tasteful in her opinion. She could see yet another image on his chest, poking out of the top of his loose muscle singlet.
Now I know why he always wears an undershirt, even in summer
, she thought, reflecting on the incredible heat and humidity of a typical Queensland summer.
Phillips gave Sally a significant look, and she looked away, trying not to make it obvious they were communicating. When the man Phillips was spotting for finished lifting and headed to the locker room, Sally got off the treadmill. Together they followed the man into the male locker room, empty except for them, and joined him at his locker.
“Hey, this is for men, darling,” he said, indignant.
“Shut up,” Sally replied, flashing her police ID at him, “What’s in your locker, eh?”
He looked panicky and started to fidget, clearly trying to think of something to say.
Phillips said to him menacingly, “We know you’re juiced up. If I don’t find steroids in your locker, I’ll find them in your car. If I don’t find them in your car, I’ll find them at your house.”
Sally smiled menacingly at the man, who was now very shaken.
Phillips started to rifle through his locker.
“Hey! What are you doing, man?” He protested.
Holding up a small innocuous looking tube he found at the back of the locker, Phillips smiled and said teasingly. “Looky what I found.” Phillips checked the contents of the tube. It held a syringe and some liquid in a vial. He handed it over to Sally who placed it carefully in a plastic bag.
“Enough for a possession charge right there,” she said smugly.
The man was devastated.
She said, “If you help us out, we won’t look in your car, or your house.” She looked at him significantly and added, “And things will go well for you when this charge comes to court.”
With a hopeful voice he asked, “What do you want?”
“Your name.” Sally demanded.
“Everett, Tim Everett,” he said obediently.
“Got some ID?” Sally replied.
Tim reached into his locker and got his wallet and driver license out. Sally used her phone to take a photo of it.
“Well Tim, what we want is eyes and ears,” Phillips replied.
Sally pulled a printed image from her sweater pocket. Showing it to Tim she said, “You know this guy, right?”
“Yeah, that’s Sanchez. Everyone knows him,” Tim replied.
“We want to know who he knows and who he speaks to.”
“He mainly hangs out with a guy called Morrow, a big guy. I don’t know his first name. He has some other mates, but they don’t come in as often as Morrow,” Tim replied.
“That’s a good start, Tim. You’ll call Phillips here if Morrow comes in, OK?”
Tim nodded.
“Make sure you let me know when he comes in,” Phillips said, handing Tim a card with his details on it.
“A uniformed officer will contact you soon about your possession charge,” Phillips said, smiling.
Sally and Phillips left the locker room together.
In the car on the way back to Nundah, Sally said, “Get someone to go over there tomorrow and get the membership list from the manager, OK? We need to find out more about Morrow.”
Phillips nodded.
*****
The next morning Sally was analyzing the Bowen Hills gym membership list when a call from Darren Franks came up on her phone.
“Hi Darren, we still on for our meeting?” She asked.
“Yes, just checking you can still make it,” Darren replied.
“See you soon,” Sally ended the call and returned to the list, isolating the name of Stephen Morrow and plugging it into the police database. Only three listings came up. Two of them were in Brisbane and the other in the northern Queensland city of Cairns. Ruling him out, she took careful note of the Brisbane addresses of the other two and logged a job to have them attended upon by officers to see if they were the muscular gym-going type she was seeking.
Chewing on her pen, she wondered if Phillips would hear from the hapless Tim Everett soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Darren's PA buzzed him to say Detective Sergeant Middleton and a colleague of hers had arrived.
"Come in," Darren offered after he greeted Sally and Phillips and introduced them to Amanda. Darren led them to his conference room and asked his PA to take orders for refreshments.
Amanda already had some documents and a laptop set up on the large table.
Eyeing the documents, Sally said, "We'd love to know what you've got."
"Perhaps we should canvas the bail issues first," Darren suggested politely.
"I'm opposed to any changes at all," Sally replied firmly.
“My client is no longer your prime suspect," Darren replied.
"He's still a suspect. He's still the subject of serious charges. We don't want any message leaking out that we're pursuing other avenues. This is to your client's benefit," Sally countered. "Presumably he wants his wife to be safe, right?"
"The thing that would benefit my client the most is for the charges to be dropped. If that can't be done, then his bail conditions should be removed entirely," Darren replied.
Sally started to protest but Darren held his hands up, cutting her off by saying, "I get where you're coming from. I really do. I don't want to tip off the killer either. But it's not right to restrict my client when you don't actually think he did it. You'll need to find another way around it. You know the court will agree with me. Let's not get into a shit-fight over this. It'll be much easier of we work something out."
"I tell you what," Sally replied, "You give us your information, and we'll reassess things then." Her face revealed that she was unmoved by his arguments.
Darren looked at her searchingly for a moment before saying grudgingly, "Fine, we'll trust you. After all, presumably we all want the same thing here."
Amanda thought,
what a hard-arse that woman is.
Darren nodded at Amanda and she stepped forward and started taking the police through her findings. Phillips took notes while Sally asked questions.
When Amanda was taking Sally through a photocopy of Honore Charlton's dairy, Sally demanded, "Why won't you give us the original dairy?"
Darren leaned forward and said, "It only goes to background. We're trying to help out here. Don't forget that if you hadn't spent all that time barking up the wrong tree, you'd already have all of this. That diary belongs to my client. He is happy to produce the original for the court. If you need it that badly, you can agree to relax his bail conditions and I’ll ask him to hand it over. You could seize it I suppose, but you’d have to get an order that allows you to take things from my safe custody register…”
Sally backed down. Everyone in the room knew that no Judge would ever give Sally a warrant to search a solicitor’s safe custody register when the solicitor was prepared to produce the item to the court and had already provided copies of it to police. Sally said nothing for a moment and then politely asked Amanda to continue. Amanda could see that it really irked Sally to have been beaten to so many clues and items of information.
Amanda finished her presentation.
Darren said, “Can we discuss the bail issues now?"
Sally replied, "You've been helpful, but you haven't given me enough to really get moving. The banking information and all the other stuff leads to Stillman. The money angle gives him a motive too. But nothing you've provided leads us any closer to finding him, if’s he’s even still alive.”
Amanda replied in a frustrated voice, "It's your job to investigate. You can't penalize Michael because you picked the wrong man and now you can't find the right one."
Sally did not change her position, “I’m not going to agree to relax his bail. I know you'll just make the application, but it takes two days for the court to bring it on. And you have to prove a change of circumstance. That's at least two more days for me of no media.”
Darren challenged her, “We'll have no trouble proving a change of circumstance. His mental state will suffice and if not that, then the fact that Marita Sanchez is dead and he isn’t going to be charged for that.”
Sally remained defiant, “Two or more days of no media could make all the difference.”
“You’ll lose at court. And then you’ll look really shitty in the media. Even worse, we’ll put up everything we know if we have to use it to get those bail conditions relaxed or removed.”
Sally frowned.
Darren said, “Look, why don’t we compromise. You agree to what we want. We’ll delay the application for an extra day?”
“I’ll see if the Inspector will agree to some changes and you’ll give us a week,” Sally came back with.
“The Inspector won’t give a shit and you know it. It’s Ronnie Marsh, isn’t it?” Darren didn’t wait for Sally to confirm it before adding, “He’s the type who only wants results. If Michael’s not your man, he won’t care about bail. We agree now on what we want and the application will be made in four business days, next Wednesday.”
“You can drop the reporting. You can have phone contact only with the wife. You can’t have the travel restrictions dropped, not with him having all that money overseas. Five business days, next Thursday. That gives us another week to find Stillman without him knowing we’re after him.”
Darren held out his hand for Sally to shake, “Done,” he said.
Sally shook it.
Amanda was no stranger to how police did things. Unfazed by the negotiations, she started to pack up her material. Sally turned to her and said, “If you find out anything more about Stillman’s money in the Caribbean, please let me know straight away.”
“Sure,” Amanda replied.
Darren walked the police out while Amanda returned to his office to wait for him. He came back shortly.
“Well, we got what we wanted. At least Michael can call Phoebe now,” Darren said when he came back.
“And hopefully they’ll be able to find Stillman soon,” Amanda said, but her face betrayed her doubts about it.
Darren looked at her and said, “At least they’re looking for him now. But you need to keep following things up, don’t just leave it to them.”
“Don’t worry, I will. Speaking of that, can you get one of your police mates to run the plates from those photos I took at the Bowen Hills gym?”
“Sure.”
“Do you really think Michael might have paid someone to kill his wife?” Amanda asked him. She was convinced of his innocence and wondered if Darren truly felt the same way.
“No, but Middleton might. I just don’t want to give her any more false trails to follow. She needs to be chasing down who and where Stillman might be, instead of following some bozo at the gym on the off chance Michael gave him money via his mistress.”
Amanda nodded, thinking that she would need to go back to basics again to find some clue to where Stillman might be.
There must be something I’ve missed
.
*****
Phoebe was excited when she picked up the keys to her new apartment on Saturday morning. Mark had dropped her off at the South Brisbane estate agency that morning and returned to New Farm. Now she was walking through the Southbank Parklands towards her new apartment building. Mark was going to meet her there soon with her boxes from New Farm. She walked slowly through the crowds enjoying the gorgeous day and the cafes and other attractions. She was looking forward to setting up her new life. The delivery people would be coming throughout the day with the large items and the white-goods. As she looked over at the Brisbane River and the view of the city center on the other side, she recalled the conversation she’d had with Amanda the previous evening. She’d been gratified when Amanda called to say she could have telephone contact with Michael from next Thursday afternoon onwards.
“But how?” Phoebe had asked Amanda.
“We did a deal with the police to have the bail conditions relaxed,” Amanda replied.
“Does this mean they don’t think it’s him?”
“It means they’ve agreed to look for Stillman, although they’re maintaining the charges against Michael,” Amanda explained.
“That’s not fair,” Phoebe complained. “If they don’t think it’s him, they should just drop the charges and leave him be.”
“I agree. And Darren and Charlie would ordinarily force them to that, but we think, and Michael agrees, that we should give the police a little more time to find Stillman. It wouldn’t be good to tip off the killer by dropping the charges against Michael so soon. Anyway, Charlie will be in court next Thursday to secure the changes to the bail conditions. It’ll be quick because it’s being done with the other side’s consent. You won’t need to be there.”
“Thanks for letting me know. By the way, I’ve heard nothing back from Grand Cayman yet.”
Amanda replied, “Is there anyway you can push that?”
“No, not really,” Phoebe sighed. “While I’ve got you, I should let you know my new address.”
“What?” Amanda had said, totally surprised.
“Yes, I’m moving into my own apartment in Southbank over the weekend,” Phoebe replied happily.
“But aren’t you worried about safety?” Amanda spluttered, horrified.
“This place is really secure, don’t worry. And tell Charlie not to worry either.”
“She’s going to hit the roof when I tell her,” Amanda replied.
Phoebe remembered feeling warm inside when she heard Amanda say that, even though she didn’t think there was any need for concern. As she walked under the trees, she anticipated the time when, hopefully soon, Charlie would be able to come over to her new unit to share her newfound privacy. She didn’t notice the burly individual who followed her carefully, not letting her out of his sight.
*****
Roman directed traffic in Phoebe’s new apartment with his customary flair, sending the bed deliverymen to the correct room and the people delivering the washing machine to the laundry. He supervised the installation of the machine and the erection of the bed in the correct space, even testing it with his weight before letting the men leave. Knowing that Phoebe was still sore, he set about making the bed for her, using the linen set he had given Phoebe as a housewarming gift.
Mark was out getting coffee for everyone. Roman fervently hoped he would return with bakery items, too. Just as he was putting the finishing touches on the bed, the door buzzer sounded. He could hear Phoebe asking who it was. It turned out to be the removal company with the load from the Hamilton house. After taking Phoebe’s keys and swipe card, Roman made his way down to the underground car park to swipe the truck in and direct them where to unload.
When Roman returned to the unit, he happy to see that Mark had come back, heavily laden with coffee, danishes and croissants. Phoebe went down to the car park to swipe the lift to allow the men to bring up the first load. When she arrived back she gave her swipe to the removals men and joined Roman and Mark at the kitchen bench, dividing up the delicacies.
Roman smiled at her sadly, “Sweets, I really wish you weren’t doing this,” he said, carefully wiping buttery croissant flakes from his face with a paper napkin.
Phoebe looked up at him, “It’ll be fine. I promise. Please don’t worry. This place is like Fort Knox. And I really need to get on with my life, Roman. I’m so grateful for all the help you’ve given me, but I need to stop depending on you.”
Mark smiled lovingly at his partner, “Darling, the lady has her mind made up,” he said gently.
Roman’s shoulders slumped. He wondered why neither of them seemed to understand that it was the absolute worst idea for Phoebe to move out at the moment.
She’s in denial and he actually supports her right to make really dumb decisions
, he thought sourly.
Oh well, all I can do is be a good friend and help out.
The door buzzer sounded again. Roman thought it might be the refrigerator arriving and got up to investigate.
*****
Amanda sat outside the Bowen Hill’s gym in a hired car with Charlie’s laptop on her knees. She had been there since mid-morning and it was now after lunch. Sanchez and his large friend were nowhere to be seen. As she kept one eye on the gym entrance, she scrolled though Roman’s Facebook page. After an hour of solid work on the page she came up with nothing of interest to the investigation, but had learned a great deal about Roman. He was incredibly well connected. She was mildly surprised to find he supported a number of charities and causes. Finished with looking at Roman, she clicked the link to Mark Mitchell’s page. She was astounded at what she saw. She immediately dialed Charlie.
“Charlie, you’ll never believe it,” Amanda said with dread, when Charlie answered.
“What?” Charlie replied.
