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‘That’s the prick who stabbed me,’ I said as I lifted the percolator off the burner and rested it on the sink.
‘We believe this man accosted Ms. Singh on her way back to the Queen Mary dormitory,’ Ivers continued. ‘We believe he was armed with a knife and forced Ms. Singh to grant him entry to the building, where they proceeded to room 221. It’s possible he put Ms. Singh in the bathroom as he confronted and murdered Renee. He then forced Ms. Singh at knifepoint to leave the building, then took her to Camperdown Park and murdered her. The state coroner all but confirms the same weapon was used to kill both Ms. Prestwidge and Ms. Singh.’
Ivers showed the next image. ‘And here they are exiting the building exactly twelve minutes later.’
I threw a teaspoon as hard as I could into the sink. ‘Fuck!’
Alice peeked in from the hallway. ‘Dad?’
‘Sorry, sweetheart. Your dad has had a very big day today.’
She walked up to me, gave me a hug, smiled at Ivers, and went back into the spare bedroom.
I picked up the photo and stared into the black pools of Gav’s eyes. ‘Jesus Christ. He was right there in front of me.’
‘He’s a UK citizen named Gavin Poulson,’ Ivers said. ‘Currently in Australia on an expired visa. Immigration are busting their chops to deport him, if they can find him.’
‘Is this where I come in?’
‘You see him, you call me.’
I tipped three heaped teaspoons of sugar into a cup and poured the coffee. ‘I could have stopped the prick at the brothel.’
‘Do not beat yourself up. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty. You know how many of us have to live with that knowledge when we catch repeat offenders putting an axe into their girlfriends while out on parole? We always say we could have done something, but it doesn’t change anything. You stopped him from killing the woman at the brothel.’
I served his coffee, and he took a sip and raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow.’ He indicated the percolator. ‘I’m getting me one of those.’
I poured mine and stirred in the sugar. ‘I still feel like shit about it. I fucked up.’
Ivers chuckled dryly. ‘You remind me of my partner.’
‘Is he incredibly smart and handsome?’
‘No. He gives himself a hard time over everything. No point criticising him, because he rides himself hard enough.’ He took another sip. ‘There’s something else I need to talk to you about.’
He flicked through the pile of papers he’d brought, and carefully removed two photographs. One showed the crime scene from the dorm room, Renee’s inert pale body next to the bed as I remembered it, a dark stain on her shirt. The other showed a pile of leaves partially covering Pavali’s body, her shoeless feet exposed.
‘Witnesses place Poulson at The Pavilion last Friday night. Apparently, you got into a heated argument with him?’
I met his eyes. ‘Not an argument, as such. More an ego-centric little big man on a power trip. He tried to deny me entry to Lyons’ launch party.’
‘You had words?’
‘Nothing that held any weight. I almost took his head off but decided against it. I called Lyons, and he let me in personally. Why, am I a suspect, Detective Sergeant?’
‘I thought you were complicit somehow, until Detective Inspector Casuamo told me you were shot at today.’
I studied the photo: Poulson had the girl in a pincer grip, close to his side. ‘He killed both of them, didn’t he?’
‘It all points to him, and he’s our only person of interest. We pulled footage from a parking garage showing him getting into a silver Fortuner, and traced the registration back to Lyons Media. We made enquires, and they confirmed his dismissal from their employment six hours ago.’
I crossed my arms. ‘How convenient.’
He nodded, sipped his coffee, and gave a single nod of satisfaction. ‘From what we’ve pieced together, Poulson approached Ms. Singh and gained access to the building using her swipe card. He forced her to room 221 on the second level, and possibly tied Ms. Singh up while he killed Ms. Prestwidge. He then forced Ms. Singh back outside to Camperdown Park, where he killed her and covered her body. Ms. Singh came from India on a student visa. She had no known enemies, and her friends said she never caused waves. There’s no link between her and Poulson. Likewise with Ms. Prestwidge. We can’t draw any connection between the three of them, aside from the fact that Ms. Prestwidge shared the room with Tamsin, who’s gone missing, and Poulson was under the employ of her father, Jeff Lyons.’
He took another sip of coffee. ‘I’ve surmised that she was the target that night, despite the fact I can’t find any motive for Poulson wanting to kill Tamsin. Best we can say is that his intentions were to kidnap Tamsin and hold her for ransom. Her phone records show she was making a number of calls to Queensland.’
‘I confirmed with a guy in Leichhardt,’ I said, ‘that she bought a new birth certificate and Queensland drivers licence under the name of Anastasia Morrison. Might explain the phone calls.’
‘Interesting.’ He opened the manila folder and pulled out a pile of papers. ‘These were taken from the same camera on the night of the 13th.’
He spread out three colour images of the same quality in a sequence on the breakfast bench, and turned them one-eighty so I could see them the right way. Each image had been captured from a high angle at night. The first showed a figure in a dark, long-sleeved top, jeans and sneakers, exiting one of the doors. I recognised her as Tamsin Lyons, and felt a strange sense of relief at seeing her alive.
The next photo showed Tamsin halfway down the front steps, dragging a single suitcase. The last image showed her disappearing into blackness along the street.
Ivers pointed to the one on my extreme left. ‘This was around a quarter past eleven. Tamsin’s heading east into the city. We couldn’t ascertain any other operating cameras along the street two clicks in either direction. These are the last known images we’ve managed to retrieve of Tamsin.’
‘That suitcase is almost the same size as her.’
‘Looks like she’s leaving for good. My best guess is she jumped a cab and left the city.’
‘Central’s east from the dormitory and within walking distance. I was down that way myself on Saturday.’
‘Train was my second guess. I’ve got two constables running through CCTV footage from Central Station since Monday.’
‘Only two?’
‘That’s all I can afford across three Sydney Local Area Commands.’
‘And where are they up to?’
‘They’re looking at four hundred and eighty-five cameras on a twenty-four-hour feed. They’ve only just cleared the rest of Friday. She didn’t leave a forwarding address, nor did she cancel her bond on the room.’
‘Unlikely. She has a very small social circle, only two or three really close friends. Everyone else she tended to keep at a distance. No one I’ve spoken to mentioned anything about Tamsin moving, or even saying she was thinking about moving.’
‘Do you think, maybe, she was forced to leave?’
‘She didn’t bother getting her bond back,’ I said.
‘Daddy’s little rich girl.’
I scoffed. ‘Hardly. Pragmatic and down to earth, from what I’ve seen.’
‘How are things with her father?’
‘He keeps throwing money at me. It’s as if he can’t get rid of it quick enough.’
‘I’ll go out on a limb here, and let me know what you think. Be honest. I can take it. It could be his value system. His standards and moral values revolve around money. I’m going to assume yours don’t.’
‘Good point. I never saw it that way.’
‘I’m five days into this, and Poulson’s been able to cover his tracks like an expert. I have no fucking clue where he could be.’
He pressed his lips together, closed his eyes, and exhaled loudly through his nose.
I said, ‘‘Counting back from twenty’?’
He shook his head. ‘Deep breathing and centering.’
‘Does it work?’
He opened his eyes and looked down at his mug. ‘Got anything stronger than this?’
I went into the spare bedroom, opened my liquor cupboard inherited from my Nonno, and pulled out a bottle of Johnny Walker black label. I poured a solid slug into a glass.
Ivers picked it up and took a sip, then produced two photos of Tamsin’s and Renee’s student identification cards from Sydney University, and lay them side by side. The women shared remarkable similarities—straight light brown hair, angular faces, a firm mouth, a remarkable similarity now that Tamsin’s hair had grown out.
I said, ‘It’s too much of a coincidence to be a case of mistaken identity, don’t you think?’
‘I do, but it aligns with what you’ve been saying about the manuscript.’
‘How do you figure?’
‘Go with me on this one. Maybe Lyons thinks Tamsin is the one blackmailing him, and he’s the one who hired Poulson to take her out.’
‘You think Lyons hired someone to kill his own daughter?’
‘Lyons has serious connections with members of the underworld. It’s not beyond the scope of reason.’
I considered the theory from all sides, and it held up, for the most part.
Ivers said, ‘No doubt Lyons got twitchy when you came on the scene.’
‘Lyons hired me.’
‘Sure, as a cover. I believe he actually does want you to find Tamsin, but only to bring her in and take her out, end the blackmailing, maybe silence her in the process. He’s taking a two-pronged approach, only Poulson’s the one with the knife.’
The truth was the truth. I’d seen Lyons’ mean streak first hand—first at the pub when he went toe to toe with the Islander, and then at The Birches when he flared up.
‘Let me see if I can break it down into its components,’ I said. ‘Lyons sends Poulson to the dormitory to take out Tamsin before I get to her, maybe even to implicate me in the whole thing. Who knows? Poulson uses Pavali to grant him access into the building, and he’s worked up, because he’s being paid good money and the pressure’s on. Renee opens the door, and he’s got the knife in her before she makes a sound. Word gets back to Lyons it’s the wrong girl, so he gets desperate and throws more money at me to find Tamsin.’
He downed the rest of the scotch and pointed a finger at me. ‘You see Poulson, you call me.’
I nodded.
Ivers gathered his folio and the manila folder. ‘I’ll make sure to interview Evelyn Turner tomorrow.’
‘No. If you talk to her, she’ll go back to Lyons and inflame the whole thing. He may get even more desperate, and who knows what he’ll do then?’
Ivers sat still for a moment. ‘Okay, I’ll leave it for now, but I can’t guarantee I won’t consider that scenario when push comes to shove.’
He got up with a grunt and padded across the carpet like a lion. ‘There’s pressure on me to wrap this up in a week, or I’ll be the one fronting the media and answering questions I don’t have the answers to.’
He opened the door and quietly slipped out.
