A young woman was washing her car in the driveway of the house where Lamarr and Tsu lived. Ella glanced at her as she and Murray walked past, then saw an ambulance sticker through the suds on the back window.
‘Are you Christine Lamarr?’ she said.
The woman was about twenty-five, lean and tense, with skull earrings, black hair in a looped ponytail, and veins standing out on her arms. Water and suds had splashed across her black T-shirt and jeans, and her feet were bare on the wet concrete. ‘Who’s asking?’
They showed their badges. ‘Detectives Marconi and Shakespeare,’ Ella said. ‘Got a minute to talk?’
Lamarr shrugged. ‘Sure.’ She dunked a sponge into a bucket, then stood on her toes and scrubbed at the car’s roof.
‘You know Stacey Durham?’ Ella said.
‘I do.’
‘How well?’ Murray asked.
‘Well enough.’
Ella said, ‘How about you face us when you’re speaking to us?’
Lamarr threw the sponge in the bucket with a splash. ‘I have to get this done. I’ve got a hair appointment in half an hour.’
‘Did you and Stacey have a falling out recently?’ Ella said.
Lamarr rolled her eyes. ‘A falling out? How quaint. She’s a bitch and I hate her. So I’d say it’s more than a falling out.’
‘And yet you were once friends on Facebook,’ Ella said.
‘Yeah well, live and learn.’
‘What happened?’ Murray asked.
‘She couldn’t keep her hands to herself, that’s what happened. She worked a nightshift with George and came onto him. A married older woman. It’s disgusting.’
‘When was that?’
‘Three weeks ago, give or take.’
‘How did you find out?’ Murray asked. ‘Did George tell you?’
‘He didn’t have to. I saw it myself. I dropped into the station and there she was, grabbing hold of him. I walked in and she leapt up, all red in the face, and rushed into the bathroom. I yelled and said she’d better come out and face me, but she wouldn’t. Then they got a job and George said I had to leave so they could go to work.’
‘What did he say about it?’
‘That she was upset, and he’d hugged her to comfort her. That’s not what it looked like though, and if that’s all it was why’d she run away?’
‘Did she look upset?’ Ella asked.
‘All I saw was the bright red. In my book, there’s only one thing that means.’ She picked up the sponge and slapped it on the car’s boot. Suds flew.
‘Did you try to talk to her about it any time later?’ Murray asked.
‘I would if I’d seen her, and I will when I do.’
‘You know she’s missing?’ Ella said.
‘Yep.’
‘Any idea about what might’ve happened?’
‘Nope, and you must be hard up for leads if you’re asking me.’
Murray said, ‘Is George home?’
‘Nope. He’s working. Overtime shift at Penrith.’
‘So he’ll be back tonight,’ Ella said. ‘Thanks for the chat.’
They were pulling away from the kerb when her mobile rang. She didn’t recognise the number. ‘Marconi.’
‘Vicky Page, nurse and psychic,’ the voice boomed. ‘I saw something.’
Ella put her on speaker. ‘What did you see?’
‘Stacey’s in a small room. There’s no door. It’s been built specially for her. She’s weak, and she’s crying.’
‘She’s still alive then,’ Murray said to the phone.
‘Oh yes, and she’s determined to stay that way,’ Vicky said.
‘Any idea where this room is?’ Ella asked.
‘Not yet.’
‘Well, is it in this city?’
‘I can’t tell.’
Useless, Ella thought. ‘Let us know when you can, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Vicky said. ‘I hope you’re looking after yourself?’
Ella rolled her eyes at Murray. ‘Thanks for your call,’ she said, and hung up.
*
The Berala house of Zaina Khan, dentist’s receptionist, was small and built of fibro with a low porch railing and sagging gutters. Two narrow paths of concrete formed a driveway on which sat a primer-patched white Holden Gemini. Pots along the porch wall held clumps of bright green aloe vera plants, and inside a screen door with the same metal scrolling as the porch railing the front door was open. Someone in the house was whistling.
Ella tapped on the screen’s frame.
‘Come on in, ya scrag,’ a voice called.
‘Ms Khan? New South Wales Police.’
‘Oh, shit.’ A young woman hurried up the hallway, her cheeks red. ‘Sorry. I thought you were my friend.’
‘It’s no problem.’ Ella showed her badge. ‘Detectives Marconi and Shakespeare. Can we come in for a moment, please?’
The woman opened the door. ‘Is something wrong? Has something happened?’
‘We just need to ask you a few questions,’ Murray said. ‘Can you tell us where you work?’
‘Sure. I do reception and admin at a dental surgery in Strathfield.’ She stood in the hallway, hands clasped at her waist, her face anxious. She wore a short denim skirt and a pink collared shirt, and pink slippers with kawaii kittens on the toes.
‘Who else works there with you?’ Ella asked.
‘Just the dentist, Jon Dimitri. He’s the owner as well.’
‘Is he supposed to be working today?’
She shook her head. ‘He took a few days off. We’re open again tomorrow.’
Ella said, ‘Do you know where he’s gone?’
‘Not exactly, but he mentioned camping.’
‘Do you know if he was going alone or with someone?’
She grinned. ‘He’s got a new girlfriend, so I’m guessing he’s not out there alone.’
‘Do you know her name?’
‘Her first name’s Cynthia, but I don’t know her last. He’s talked about her and she’s rung, but I’ve never met her.’
‘When was the last time you saw or spoke to him?’ Ella said.
‘Last Friday. He finished with a patient about four, then we cleaned up, and he told me to put the sign on the door about him being sick. He said that was better than just saying the place was closed.’ She looked at them. ‘Has something happened to him?’
‘Not as far as we know,’ Ella said. ‘Have you met the people who work in the neighbouring businesses?’
‘I know Mike, at the bike shop. And I met another a week ago, Stacey Durham. I remember because I had to ask how to spell her last name. She was from the computer place.’
Ella resisted the urge to glance at Murray. She remembered without prompting. ‘What happened?’
‘She came in asking if the dentist was busy, if she could get an appointment straight away,’ she said. ‘I told her he was available, and then this guy came in from outside and said something to her like “How’d you go?” and she said she was going in now. The guy looked a bit surprised. Jon took her through – I think she only got a cleaning. Jon said something afterwards like she didn’t even really need that.’
‘Who was the guy?’ Murray asked.
‘I assumed he was her husband or whatever from the way they talked to each other. He left when she went in the back.’
‘Did they seem cheerful, or stressed, or angry or annoyed?’ Ella asked.
‘The woman seemed a bit uptight, but lots of people are dental-phobic,’ Zaina said. ‘The guy was a bit gruff, I suppose. I had to answer the phone, so I didn’t focus on them too much.’
‘What day was that?’ Ella asked.
‘Monday last week.’
‘Had you ever seen either of them before, or since?’
‘No,’ Zaina said.
‘Do you watch the news?’
‘Sometimes. Not regularly or anything.’
Ella took out the picture of Stacey Durham. ‘Was this the woman you talked to?’
‘That’s her. Definitely. I remember because she has nice teeth and really nice hair.’
Ella looked at Murray. ‘Get Dennis to email over one of James.’
He nodded and stepped outside.
‘What’s this all about?’ Zaina asked.
‘Stacey’s missing,’ Ella said. ‘Her husband, James, owns the computer store.’
‘Holy crap. What happened?’
‘We don’t know. Has there ever been any trouble along the shops there? Anyone hanging around, vandalism, anything out of the usual?’
‘Not since I’ve been there. Far as I know, the only excitement was when some guy held up the aquarium for turtles, yonks ago.’
Outside, Murray’s phone beeped, and he came in and showed the screen to Zaina.
She nodded. ‘That’s the guy who came in after the woman. They look like they matched. Both so nice-looking.’
Ella tried to think it through. Stacey had come in about seeing the dentist immediately, quickly followed by James. Was she trying to get away from him? ‘Did it seem like Jon and Stacey knew each other?’ she asked.
‘No. He came out and introduced himself and shook her hand. That’s when she mentioned the computer shop. I think the guy introduced himself too, but the phone rang again and I had to answer it so I didn’t hear what he said.’
‘And afterwards, did Jon say anything about her?’
‘Only about her not really needing a clean. Then another patient came in, and we didn’t talk about her again.’
Ella heard a car stop out the front.
Zaina looked out the door. ‘It’s my friend.’
‘Do you have Jon’s mobile number?’ Ella asked.
‘Sure.’ Zaina fetched her mobile and read out the number.
Ella wrote it down, then got out her card. ‘If you remember anything else, can you give us a call? Anything odd about that day, or something strange you noticed around the shops there.’
‘Homicide,’ Zaina read from the card. ‘You think the woman’s dead?’
Ella said, ‘We really hope not.’
*
Ella called Jonathon Dimitri’s mobile while Murray drove them to Lidcombe to see Stacey’s old schoolfriend Abby Watmough. Dimitri didn’t answer, and Ella left a message asking him to call as soon as he could.
Watmough lived in a shambling house set back from the road, with cream cladding on the walls and a huge frangipani tree that was just starting to drop its leaves into the front gutters.
Ella knocked. The woman who answered looked about forty, with brown hair in a short ponytail and a slender build in a Sydney Swans T-shirt and denim shorts. She held a screeching baby in a green Bonds suit and wore an annoyed expression.
‘Didn’t you see the sticker? It says do not knock.’ She started to push the door shut with her bare foot, but Ella held up her badge.
‘Abby Watmough? Can we come in and talk?’
‘Has something happened?’
‘We just need to ask you a few questions,’ Murray said.
The living room furniture was practical and homely, like Ikea but one rung down. Abby Watmough sat on the edge of the lounge and patted the crying baby’s back.
‘Sorry if I was rude there. We get the religions here constantly. They just ignore the sticker. It’s insane.’
‘It’s all right.’ Murray nodded at the baby. ‘Girl or boy?’
‘Girl,’ she said. ‘Lucy. Silly Lucy to be crying, aren’t you, huh? It’s okay. It’s all right.’ She dotted kisses over the baby’s head.
Ella watched, thinking of the woman on the bike in the CCTV images. Abby Watmough looked similar – as much as any woman with lightish-brown hair and a slim build would.
She cleared her throat. ‘Do you know Stacey Durham?’
‘Yes,’ Abby said. ‘A little. I know she’s been missing too. I saw it on the news. Have you found her?’
‘Not yet,’ Ella said. ‘How do you know her?’
‘We went to the same high school. We weren’t friends then, and only met at a school reunion late last year, where we realised that my son, Liam, is going out with her niece, Paris.’
‘What?’ Ella said.
‘I was surprised too,’ Abby said. ‘Small world, isn’t it?’
Discomfitingly small, Ella thought. ‘How did that come up?’
‘She said she was a paramedic, and I said my son’s girlfriend Paris had been accepted to start training as one too. Stacey’s ears pricked up at the name, and bingo.’
Murray said, ‘You were friends with her on Facebook.’
‘Were?’ Abby said.
‘She unfriended you a couple of months ago,’ he said.
‘Huh. Shows how much attention I pay to it.’
‘Was there some reason she did that?’ Ella asked.
‘Not that I know of. As I said, I wasn’t even aware that she had.’
‘No argument or anything?’
She shook her head. ‘At the reunion, everyone was saying they were going to friend everyone and keep in touch properly. Those sort of good intentions never last long in my experience. I hardly ever get on Facebook, and she probably decided to delete people like me who never post.’
‘Do you own a bike?’ Ella asked.
Abby looked puzzled. ‘A motorbike?’
‘Pushbike.’
‘No. Why?’
Ella didn’t answer that. ‘Where do you work?’
‘In the public service. Department of Health admin. But I’m on maternity leave right now.’
‘Is your husband home?’
‘Partner. We split up. He thought he was up for being a daddy, but after the birth he changed his mind. He’s working in the mines in WA. Liam moved back home to help out.’
‘Sounds like a good kid,’ Murray said.
Abby nodded. ‘He is.’
Ella took out the CCTV photo of the cyclist and unfolded it. ‘Do you recognise this person?’
She studied it. ‘No. Should I?’
‘You don’t think it looks a little like you?’
‘I suppose so, a bit. But as I said I don’t own a bike. Or helmet, or clothes like that, for that matter.’
‘Where were you on Sunday evening?’ Ella asked.
‘Here with Lucy.’
‘Was Liam home?’ Murray asked.
‘No. He plays indoor cricket and soccer. He had a couple of games in a row, then stayed to umpire.’
‘Was anyone else here?’ Ella asked.
‘Nope. Just Lucy and me. Why?’
‘Just checking.’ Ella took the photo back. ‘Thanks for your help.’
Abby saw them out, the baby dozing in her arms.
‘That all sounded reasonable enough,’ Murray said as they walked down the drive to their car.
Ella looked back at the house. ‘The Paris link is weird though.’
‘Life is stranger than fiction,’ Murray said, taking out his phone to call Dennis. He put him on loudspeaker and gave him a quick summary while Ella mused on the coincidence.
‘I have news,’ Dennis said when Murray had finished. ‘The lab worked out two things. Firstly, the DNA matches – it’s definitely her blood in the car.’
Ella and Murray didn’t speak for a moment, then Ella said, ‘What else?’
‘They worked out what was written in the notebook you found.’
‘And?’
‘You’d better come see for yourselves.’
*
In the office, Dennis held out the fax from the lab.
‘I’m so scared. Will he go to jail for this? How much time do you do for fraud?’ Ella read out, then looked up. ‘It’s her handwriting?’
‘The lab says it matches the samples from the calendar you sent in,’ Dennis said.
‘Can we be sure she’s referring to James?’ Murray asked.
‘Who else would she refer to as “he”?’ Ella said.
‘Whoever she wrote about on the previous pages,’ Murray replied. ‘The pages we don’t have.’
‘But would she be scared about a friend or colleague facing jail?’
‘Wouldn’t you?’ Murray said.
‘In case it is him,’ Dennis said, ‘we need to know more about James’s business. I’ve got Elizabeth Libke coming in from Computer Crime to help. When she gets here, which should be any minute, give her the run-down.’
Ella and Murray went up the corridor to their desks.
‘Let’s assume it’s James,’ Ella said. ‘He’s doing something that could land him in jail. She’s found out about it. What does he do?’
‘Seems too obvious,’ Murray said.
‘Most crime is. Love, hate, money, revenge. He could be angry at her. He could be worried she’s going to reveal something, either deliberately or accidentally, and he’ll lose his money and end up in the slammer.’
‘But she hadn’t said anything so far, so why would she now? Why hurt or kill her now?’
‘That anonymous complaint – what if that made her realise that something was going on? What if she asked him about it, or found out it was true, and now he’s done something to her to shut her up? To protect whatever fraud thing he’s running?’
‘Libke checked him out though,’ Murray said.
‘But how well?’
‘Well enough,’ a voice said behind them.
Ella glanced around to see Elizabeth Libke pulling up a chair. ‘I meant that he might be hiding stuff somewhere else,’ she said. ‘On another computer or something. You said yourself you just had a chat and checked a couple of things.’ Her cheeks were warm.
Libke opened a manila folder on her knee. ‘I’m guessing you want the layperson’s version?’ Her voice was cool.
Ella listened as she ran through the steps of what she’d checked, then said, ‘Dennis told you about the imprint in the notebook?’
Libke nodded.
‘Are there other ways to commit fraud than the ways you looked at?’
‘Of course,’ Libke said. ‘But the note didn’t say specifically it was about computers.’
‘No, but if it’s James she’s referring to, that’s got to be pretty much a given, don’t you think?’
‘I was wondering,’ Murray said, ‘if we shouldn’t map out our next steps? We could take a couple of approaches, one being that it’s James, the other that it’s someone else, and start from there.’
Ella sat back in her chair.
Murray said, ‘Elizabeth, say James is hiding stuff, is there a way you can go deeper and find out?’
She nodded. ‘It’ll take time, but sure.’
‘Goodo. And Ella and I will do the less technical stuff. Talk to James again, interview the shop staff –’
Ella’s phone buzzed with a text. She looked at the screen. ‘It’s from Stacey’s phone.’ She opened the message. ‘Time is running out. James knows why. He must tell the truth,’ she read.
Murray hurried off to alert Dennis.
Libke said, ‘Has that happened before?’
Ella shook her head as she typed her reply. This is Detective Marconi. Who are you?
Dennis and Murray came in as the answer arrived, Dennis with his phone to his ear.
Ella read out the reply. ‘James knows who we are. When he admits what he’s done, he’ll see his wife again.’
Tell me what he’s done and I can help, she sent back.
‘Phone’s in Westmead,’ Dennis said.
They waited in a tense group, but there was no answer. Ella, her hands trembling a little, pressed to call the number, but it went straight to voicemail.
‘Switched off,’ Dennis said, and ended his own call.