Who Killed Jimbo Jameson? (8 page)

“Oh, my god, I forgot why you're here tonight. You wanted to know more about Lynnette and the others. Let's move into the lounge room and we can talk.” Oh, she's good, I thought, as she manoeuvred Jack onto the three-seater lounge and sat down next to him, leaving me with the choice of the single chair with the busted spring or the beanbag. Damn it, I thought. I may be The Invisible Woman, but at least I'm going to be comfortable.

She kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs so that her perfectly pedicured feet were angled towards her unsuspecting prey.

“So. More about Lynnette.” She took a ladylike sip of wine. “She was famous for doing
something that I've forgotten but that was a long time ago. Anyway, she came back to Australia and met Jimbo and it was on. They'd fight and then they'd make up and then he'd go off and she'd chase him and they'd make up again. And it would all start again. Once she poured paint all over his Roller. I also heard that one night she danced on his Merc in her high heels, which was all she was wearing. That was when he owned the theatres.

“Then they moved up to Hong Kong but that didn't last because she was insanely jealous of every woman who even looked at him. That was when she shot him.” Another sip of wine.

“Then she got pregnant with Daire and he divorced Bethany, and they got married the first time. Lynnette's parents were really religious and went off their brains that she was marrying a divorcee, so he tried to have his first marriage to Bethany annulled even though they'd had Jace, so you can imagine how Bethany felt about that. Anyway, that didn't work, and Lynnie's parents calmed down eventually, until he left just before Phaedra was born and shacked up with the Chinese nanny they'd brought down from Hong Kong.”

Boo took this opportunity to reach across to the coffee table to put down her glass, allowing her arm to ever-so-lightly graze Constable Jack's arm and giving her the opportunity to slide just a bit closer to him. “Jimbo went back to Hong Kong, but that didn't last long and he came back to Australia and said he was going to become a monk or something. That didn't last long, either.” She winked at Jack, who winked back. He winked back! They were conspirators now. On the same wavelength. I remembered reading about Jimbo's religious phase – it must have sold a zillion magazines – but Jack was probably more interested in colouring in his surfing magazines then.

“He started the mining company and then he met Olivia, whose father was some hotshit geologist. Olivia was absolutely beautiful and everyone thought that this time he'd hit the jackpot, especially when he took out full-page advertisements in every newspaper on Valentine's Day, telling the world that he had found his true love and she was the most wonderful thing since sliced bread and he was hopelessly in love with her and would she marry him.

“They say he had a truckload of red roses delivered to her, and I believe that. Every teenage girl – shit – every woman in Australia wanted to be loved like that! Then Olivia had the most gorgeous little boy and everyone thought they were happy, but Lynnette was sniffing around and the next thing you know Olivia was in a wheelchair and on a plane back to Venezuela with
the boy and Lynnette was redecorating the house at Vaucluse.

“Lynnette and Jimbo got remarried and their daughters were the cutest flower girls, and No Idea did a cover story on the new décor which I personally thought was a bit naff, but anyway that was when his company found the diamonds and he was always going bush.

“My friend Zorro was working on the pearl boats at Broome, and he reckons that Jimbo would come into town and fuck anything that moved – oops, sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to say that, but you know what I mean.” She took another opportunity to look directly into Jack's eyes with her baby blues.

“Anyway, one night a few of the locals got really pissed off with him because he was working his way through their wives, and they decided to teach him a lesson. Zorro said they tied him up and drove him out into the middle of the bush and left him there with a bottle of water – which I always thought was pretty good of them – and it took him twenty-four hours to get back to the pub.”

Boo had another delicate sip of wine and gave a tiny giggle. “So they tied him up again, and paid a truckie to take him to Perth. I think that's when he decided to give Broome a miss for a while and go home, but the truckie phoned a talk-back radio station and the story got out, and when he arrived home Lynnette was waiting for him with a baseball bat. I promise you that this is true, because one of my clients was the nanny and she was there with the kids. It's true. Really.”

My apprentice detective was nodding his head like one of those toy dogs you see on the back shelf of hotted up cars. It was clear that he had never met anyone like Boo.

“So then he bought some racehorses and took them to France and Lynnette divorced him again and started taking acting classes and she eventually landed a part in ‘The People Next Door', which I thought was pretty good. Then he decided that he was going to live in Washington when he started to date that old American politician, but we all knew that wouldn't last and I think she had him deported when she caught him screwing her daughter. I read that in the National Enquirer when I was in Hawaii that time. Gee, but I really liked Honolulu.” She leant even closer to Jack.

“Oh, but you should go there, Jack. We rented a convertible and drove all around the island. And I just loved Lahaina. That's on Maui. It's not quite as full-on as Honolulu and there's this
amazing volcano where you watch the sun come up and it's freezing cold in the middle of summer.” Again, she batted her eyelashes and let him have it with a 200-watt smile.

“So, let me think, where are we?” She reached for her glass of wine and sat back, moving yet again ever so slightly closer to Constable Jack. Sneaky bitch.

“Oh yes, then he started to buy and sell houses and Lynnette made a big deal about decorating them and then he bought the hotel in Melbourne and got involved with the one who killed herself. What was her name? She took a running leap off The Gap in front of a busload of Japanese tourists.”

I jumped into the conversation. “Jeez, yes, I remember that one. That was when I first joined the Force and was working at Rose Bay station. We had a hell of a time trying to round them all up to get their statements.” Jack looked at me for a change.

“That was Amber Foster,” I said. “The comedians had a ball with her name, but that case was a nightmare. Her parents were absolutely furious and blamed him and wanted us to charge him for murdering her. But we had something like twenty-six videos of her actually jumping and a busload of witnesses and he was far, far away in Perth when it happened. Yes, I have no doubt that he drove her nuts and she jumped because of him, but he didn't push her and there wasn't anything we could do. It was suicide, no matter what the parents thought.”

“Perhaps we should add the parents to the list? They certainly have a motive. Perhaps they hired someone to bump him off,” suggested Constable Jack.

Boo was warming up and had no intention of letting Jack's attention stay on me.

“Um…I'm trying to remember when he married Anna, because they were together for the longest and she had three kids with him and she makes such a big thing about being Supermum and she had a television show about babies or something for about five minutes. But you never really saw the kids and I heard there were three nannies and a spare and a driver and I heard that she was really mean to them and they even had to work on Christmas Day, but they had to vanish whenever the photographers were around.” She took a breath, another sip, and went on. “My Chatswood salon manager was working in Jimbo's office then and she said that Anna was always phoning his secretary asking where he was and no-one was allowed to tell. He would disappear for months and Anna would go off her brain and everyone would hide and not return her calls. They felt terrible, but what could they do? If they told, they'd be fired. And
do you think that Anna would have rewarded them for telling them the truth?

“When they got a divorce she really cleaned him out, and now she has a South African diamond miner on the hook – sorry, I meant to say a South African who owns a diamond mine – but even he might not have enough to satisfy her.” Jack topped up her glass, and somehow they were sitting even closer. She stroked the stem of the wine glass between her forefinger and thumb and looked so ingenuous but I knew what she was doing. Jack was transfixed by the movement of her fingers, but she was all cutesy-fluffy innocence.

“And then what happened? Oh, yes. Jimbo met Jacqueline and she was different from everyone else. She just ignored him and played hard to get, which was a real change for him because he was used to women falling onto their backs when he whistled.

“She wouldn't live with him and they broke up a few times but eventually she gave in and married him. Or did he give in and marry her? Who knows? I reckon she gave him an ultimatum that it was basically nothing until there's a wedding ring, which was a pretty smart thing to do. She promised and she teased and she reeled him in. Just like in The Rules. She was an accountant or something, so I think she knew exactly what she was doing and I reckon she's in it for the money. She made a big deal out of not having a pre-nup. My ex-flatmate's cousin is a journalist and she says that everyone knows what's really going on and Jimbo's been shacked up with a pole-dancer and that the so-called perfect marriage is a complete pile of bullshit and he wants out.

“Hey, I've just had an idea.” She took a slow sip, and placed the glass back on the table. “All these women have kids, so what's going to happen now? Like, what if one of the wives had him killed? What would happen to the will? I mean, Anna and Jacqueline really love the money and they've been scratching at each other for years. And Jacqueline is the widow and has one daughter. Anna's kids would get three lots. Tessa has two: one from her first marriage and one with Jimbo. But he adopted the first one, so he has to be included. Then there's Lynnette's two and the ones in America and France. And let's not forget Jace. They'd get their share, too. But every time he gets divorced he pays out a motza and the kids' inheritances get smaller until he makes another squillion and it all starts again.

“Still, Tessa had her own squillion to start with, and Victoria just walked away and earns her own, so they wouldn't kill him for the money. But if he was cheating on the Pole-Dancer,
who knows if he was lining up Wife Number Umpteen and a further dilution of the funds pool. Perhaps someone has had enough and has decided to cash in once and for all?”

My sister continues to amaze me.

chapter thirteen.

Everyone knows Victoria Roberts. Everyone knows that when she's not travelling the world she's in front of a camera or shopping. Sometimes she combines the lot for her tough investigative exposés of anorexic models wearing furs on the runways of Milan, Paris and Rome. Life's a bitch.

But Victoria Roberts wasn't. She opened the front door to her Edwardian semi in Neutral Bay and I was attacked by two flying bundles of fluff. Working as a team, they licked my ankles, bounced at my knees and shepherded me into a supremely comfortable sofa. Then they went for my throat. Then my hair, my mouth and nose. It was impossible not to laugh, even as they chewed on my ears. They had absolutely no respect for the law.

She was much smaller than she looked on television. Whippet-thin. Short, messy, frosty silver hair and huge hazel eyes. Quite a bit of “smoky eye” make-up. Dressed in black linen pants with a cream silk shirt. Worn with a green pair of those Moroccan slippers that don't have a heel. And a huge man's gold watch, worn loose on her wrist. Do you call this “at home smart casual”? Whatever you call it, this was it and she made it look good.

“Oh, I'm so sorry about this. They have absolutely no manners. Please, let me get you a cup of coffee.” Now, that's the way to get my attention, so I sat back in the so-soft feather cushions and looked around the room. Warm buttery cream walls, wide old polished floorboards scattered with oriental rugs and two oil paintings that were vaguely familiar and were either original or bloody good fakes. No visible television, but perhaps it was hidden in one of the carved armoires that flanked the fireplace. Today's newspapers were piled on top of books and magazines on the coffee table, next to a bowl of pale pink and white peonies. French doors opened to a side pathway edged with gardenias, and I could see a small garden yard beyond. I wanted to live like this.

An old blonde Labrador ambled down the pathway, wagging her tail and ignoring the fluffy mosquitoes that ran up to her and were now swinging from her ears. She walked up to me, sniffed my hand, stuck her nose in my lap and then flopped down at Constable Jack's feet with a deep sigh. “They're the alarm bells, and Honey's the enforcer.” Victoria was back with
three coffee mugs and chocolate biscuits on a tray. “I'm sorry that this is a bit basic, but she ate the cake.” The Lab banged her tail on the floor and looked up with an adoring smile.

“Now, how can I help you, detective? Is this about James?”

Her story came smoothly, calmly and fluently. “We met when I interviewed him, and I didn't think much of him. Said thanks very much and hopped onto a plane to the next assignment. He was married and I was busy, and I didn't see him again for a few years. Then one night I was at a charity dinner and he was at the same table, and we shared a water taxi when it was over. He pointed out the little house in Birchgrove where he grew up, and we started to talk about his childhood and his family and found that we had a lot in common.

“We both loved the races and he had a few horses and was starting to develop the stud. He was better at picking winners. I'm an absolute mug punter, but I love the hats and the fashions and the atmosphere.