Amy Callaghan looked at her phone. The incoming call displayed Nick’s name.
“Is this my M-I-A housemate?” she answered.
“Missing me?” Nick asked.
“Nick, if you had someone paying you rent and they were never there so you could have friends over, walk around the house naked, watch whatever shows you like, own the remote and the fridge, would you miss them?” she asked.
“I’m never leaving again,” he said.
Amy laughed.
“I’m home tonight,” he said, “just giving you the heads-up.”
“Thanks. Where are you now?” She sat back, pushed strands of her blonde hair behind her ears and looked out over the Criminal Justice Information Services Division to the grounds beyond the window.
“We’ve just stopped at Williamsburg for a bite. So I should be back in the office later this afternoon and home the normal time,” Nick said.
Amy doodled with her pen. “Who are you with?”
“The whole team,” Nick answered between bites. “What’s been happening there? Had any queues waiting for library service?”
Amy laughed. “You’re funny, Nick, ha ha. As a matter of fact, I have been flat out; yours is not the only team I provide research for you know. Besides I had an email earlier from your boss.”
“Oh yeah?” Nick looked over at Mitch. “What’s he want?”
“Could be classified,” Amy said.
“Information on three people who died last year in connection with the university photo gallery exhibition?” Nick asked.
“Well yes, smarty pants,” she said. “How is he feeling?” Amy tried to keep her voice casual.
“He’s better, limping around being his usual annoying self. He’s got no sea legs though, spent the last few days throwing up his insides. You haven’t asked how I’m feeling, or what I want for dinner,” Nick teased.
Amy sighed dramatically. “I was thinking of doing lasagna tonight, so I guess I could make it for two. So how are you feeling Nick, dear?”
“That’s kind of you to ask,” Nick said. “Well, I’m a little stiff from sleeping in hotel beds and cabin berths, but otherwise, I’m fine. But I’d be better after I had some lasagna.”
“Do you want to invite Mitch to dinner tonight?” she asked.
“No, he’s going back to Henri’s; he rang him earlier. You’ll have to fight Ann if you want to feed and care for him.”
Amy scoffed, “yeah like I’m looking for that job. Anyway, gotta go, I’ve got a customer.”
“Are they wearing glasses and a plaid shirt?” Nick teased.
“Bye Nick,” she hung up and closed the internal company page featuring Mitch and his team’s identification photo.
Ellen sat on the park bench, eating her sandwich and using her iPad to wade through the document links for Jessica Wu that Amy had just sent. Samantha sat opposite doing the same for Joseph Kinaird and Nick watched the CCTV footage again on his phone. Ellen looked up to watch Mitch. He had wandered away to listen to a phone message and she could tell by his body language he didn’t want to deal with it. She softened her stance on him. I guess he is never going to be the type who’ll let you support him. Probably hasn’t had much experience in that area.
She returned to the files and looked at the pretty young face of Jessica Wu. She went through the police report for the second time. It was eleven p.m. when Jessica was killed; she was almost home, having been at the library with a study group. Jessica crossed the road close to her home rather than use the pedestrian crossing farther up the street. Probably no cars on the road at that hour anyway, Ellen thought.
The report said Jessica was hit side on by the car, flung onto the bonnet, hit the windscreen and flew from the car to the road all while the vehicle was doing above the speed limit. Ellen moved to the next document. An older couple walking their dog a little farther down the street and on the opposite side, didn’t realize what had happened until they arrived at the body. They noted the only car on the road was a black sports car that had sped past them. They weren’t able to help with registration or ID of the driver. They called the ambulance and waited with Jessica. The woman said she held Jessica’s hand but Jessica was dead by the time the ambulance arrived. The driver and the vehicle were never found.
What did you see or know, Jessica? Ellen wondered.
Ellen flicked the screen to the next file … just the autopsy … nothing untoward there … she thumbed through to the next page. It was the witness statement Jessica had given the police when they were investigating William Ying’s disappearance. Ellen had read it earlier, but reviewed it again in light of all that had been happening. She stopped, looked up and saw Mitch walking towards them. He dropped down at the table next to Samantha, reached for his drink and glanced at his watch.
“OK?” Ellen asked.
“Yep, thanks,” he said. He struggled to add more but she guessed the call was personal. Ellen smiled at him and went back to her electronic files.
“So refresh my memory on Jessica Wu,” Mitch said, moving into safer territory.
“I’m just reading her statement again. Jessica Wu had seen William Ying talking with a Caucasian man and they were walking towards a black limousine parked at the rear of the gallery. She recalled William left the party in a car with number plates that looked like they were government-issued plates.” Ellen confirmed the dates again. “She gave this statement the day after William disappeared and she died that same day.”
“Government plates, hmm,” Mitch said. “William was a foreign ambassador, so he would have a car with government plates.”
“Yes,” Ellen agreed. “And the Caucasian man could have been his driver, body guard, a friend …”
“But not the VIP, people would remember that,” Nick said closing the CCTV footage file.
“Anything stand out?” Mitch nodded towards Nick’s phone.
“Nothing unusual,” Nick said.
“Ellie, see if you can find out who William’s regular driver or security person was, their name and nationality.”
“Done,” Ellen said.
They returned to the car, Nick taking the driver’s seat before Mitch could get there. He turned the car out onto the road and continued to D.C.
“Amy’s doing lasagna tonight,” Nick told him.
Mitch turned to him and grinned. “I’m in the middle of a case here …”
“Yeah, you want some, I know you do,” Nick continued. “She did invite you when I mentioned you hadn’t eaten for three days, but I said you were covered.”
“You would have said that anyway,” Mitch said.
“You’re right, more for me.”
“More Amy or lasagna?” Samantha asked from the back seat.
Mitch ignored Samantha’s question and returned to talking work. “So nothing unusual on the CCTV footage, there’s nothing new in Dylan’s files that I can see. Sam, what about Kinaird?”
“You and Ellie seem to have the lowdown first time around—an accident in the wet. Nothing untoward, car in good working order and no witnesses,” Samantha said.
“I think our connection with Kinaird lies in the fact that he saw William talking to one of the scientists,” Mitch said.
“You think they would kill him for that?” Samantha asked.
“People have been killed for less and if they thought Kinaird had cottoned onto the fact that they were refining or making a weapon in the uni science lab, yep, I think that would do it,” Mitch said. “Then there is Rodney Lam. When we went to where he used to live, not only is he gone, but the house is gone. It’s an empty block of land.”
“What happened to him?” Nick asked.
“Died in a fire, supposedly,” Ellen said.
Mitch sighed and stared out the window. “Why would William fake his own disappearance so he could go underground and work on the weapon? Bit extreme when he was about to finish his tenure and had residency granted.”
“But residency wouldn’t give him the access that he had as an ambassador,” Nick said.
“True,” Mitch said. “So when did he get to know the VIP? Why the hell did they kill William Ying?”
Mitch began to tap his leg again, Nick rolled his eyes and Ellen grinned at him in the rearview mirror.