Zoe opened her eyes. Her head lay on her crossed arms on her dining-room table, which was strewn with papers. A notepad was open beside her elbow. She blinked, trying to get her bearings. Just above her left ear she heard someone breathing. Instinctively, she jumped to her feet, kicking her chair away, and spun into an attack stance. From across the room, Harry jumped up at the same moment, rushing to Zoe’s side.
‘Whoa. Steady on. It’s just me,’ said Tom, taking two quick steps back.
‘Shit, you gave me a fright,’ said Zoe, before pulling the chair upright and stretching the kinks from her neck. Harry sat down, staring at Tom.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Tom.
Zoe tried to sweep the papers together and get them out of view. ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to do some work.’
Tom pointed at the notepad. ‘And what’s that all about?’
Shit. On the notepad, Zoe had listed out the three cases in separate columns. The first read:
Frankston Murder
Victim: Ben Jennings
Offender: Aaron Smyth
Missing: Alex Verdi?
The second:
Hastings Murder
Victim: Eric Drum
Offender: Trevor Hill
Missing: Eddie Nicholas?
And the third:
Portsea Murder
Victim: Ray Carlson
Offender: Dwayne Harley
Missing: Greg Enders?
At the bottom of the three columns Zoe had scrawled, Same person killed all three? What’s the link? Who is he? Where is he? What’s the motive? Why February?
Zoe turned the notebook over. ‘How long were you standing there before I woke up?’
‘Long enough to read that. I thought you had charged someone for that Portsea stabbing? You think you got the wrong guy? You think it’s a serial killer?’
‘Look, I can’t discuss this with you. I shouldn’t have left this information out. It’s all confidential. Plus, it’s just a scenario. It’s not evidence, just an idea, okay?’
Tom said nothing.
Zoe put up a reassuring hand. ‘Don’t take it personally, Tom. You’re a defence lawyer. You know I can’t discuss it with you, or anyone else outside of Homicide, for that matter?’
‘Yeah, okay. Just let me say one thing and then I’ll leave it alone. If this scenario,’ he said, pointing at the notepad, ‘looks like being real, just be careful. Okay?’
Zoe nodded. ‘I’ll be careful as long as you forget what you saw here. Deal?’
‘Deal,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll make the coffee.’
It was just after eight when Zoe and Harry walked into the Homicide office to find a huddle of detectives around Charlie’s desk. Charlie, red-faced, was shaking his head.
Zoe felt a chill run through her.
‘I don’t know anything about it. I wasn’t there,’ she heard Charlie say.
‘Ah, the great one has arrived,’ spat Iain Gillies. ‘What the fuck have you done?’
‘What are you talking about, Iain?’ Zoe said, trying to maintain a calm tone. ‘Can you be more specific?’
Harry moved forward and stood between them, as more detectives stopped what they were doing and looked over.
‘I received a call this morning from a bloke named Jim Crowley in Hastings asking why we were looking for some guy called Eddie Nicholas. He says he got to thinking after your little visit yesterday about the odds of two different detectives visiting him about two separate cases in less than a year. He thought they were somewhere between slim and fucking zero. Then he asks me if Trevor Hill is innocent and Eddie did the murder. That specific enough for you? Then Charlie here tells me that you’re looking at one of Angus and Hannah’s cases as well, the murder in Frankston. The one where a guy’s already been found guilty. You’ve been back a week and you’re already undermining the squad.’
Zoe glanced across at Hannah and Angus, who were staring hard at her. In the background, she also saw Anjali was standing against a wall, clutching a folder against her chest. ‘Well, there are some elements that seem identical in all three cases and I decided to look into it. Charlie had nothing to do with it.’
Garry Burns crossed his arms, mimicking Iain. ‘I thought you charged someone for that murder down at Portsea. What are you saying—that you’ve got the wrong bloke?’
‘No, I’m not. What I’m saying is that I am examining every piece of evidence to make sure I get the right person. What exactly are you all worried about, anyway? If you are so sure you’re right, what’s the problem with me having a look?’
‘The problem,’ said Iain, ‘is that family and friends of the victim and the accused get the idea that there is another person involved. Then the media grab hold of this and we reach a whole new level of chaos. That’s the problem.’
Zoe knew that he was right and her stomach tightened. ‘I gave them no indication that I was looking at Eddie Nicholas for Eric Drum’s killing. Same with Alex Verdi for Ben Jennings’ murder. Zero. I told them my questions were about another case altogether.’
A grin formed at the corner of Iain’s mouth. Zoe heard high-heeled footsteps behind her. She turned and saw Sally Johnstone strutting across the office, her black silk court robes trailing behind her like a cape. The expression on her face signalled war. Her blonde hair, usually pinned up, had fallen free. As she came to a stop, she crossed her arms and glared, thin-lipped, at Zoe.
‘Well, Jim Crowley didn’t buy it,’ resumed Iain. ‘Thanks very much. We have motive, opportunity and physical evidence that Trevor Hill murdered Eric Drum. The trial starts next week, for fuck’s sake.’
‘There’s no mention of any Eddie Nicholas in the file,’ Zoe replied, ‘which is strange as he was good friends with both your victim and suspect. How’d you miss him?’
Iain laughed sarcastically. ‘Probably because he had nothing to do with the case. And what are you doing fishing around in our files? If this prosecution gets wrecked because of your bloody meddling, I’ll be coming for you.’
‘If your case is solid, you’ve got no worries, do you?’
‘You’ll be creating reasonable doubt, and you know what that means. Maybe you should have become a defence lawyer, like your boyfriend, instead of a cop. You seem to be doing a good job of defending killers. Especially now you’re a fucking basket case. How the psych signed you off to come back to work, I’ve got no idea.’
‘What about Sarah Westbrook?’ Zoe could feel the heat rising.
‘What about her?’ snapped Iain.
‘She’s doing an investigation for her podcast. You saying she hasn’t reached out to you?’
‘Yeah, she did. And I told her there’s nothing in it. She’s just some lefty journo trying to do an anti-cop podcast. And she’s conned you into fucking helping her do it.’
‘So, that’s it then,’ said Zoe. ‘Nothing to see here. Is that the line? Sarah Westbrook isn’t some random conspiracy theorist. She’s a respected journalist with a podcast that is listened to by over a million people every week. If there’s something in what she’s saying, then we need to get in front of it.’
‘But there’s nothing in it,’ Iain said. ‘She’s looking at cases that look similar and deciding that they’re linked, while ignoring a ton of contradictory evidence. Just because she knew some of the people involved a lifetime ago.’
‘My job is to get to the truth. I am doing my job.’
Sally gave a short jab of laughter. ‘Your job? Doing off-the-book work on closed cases. Is that your job now?’
Zoe turned to Sally. ‘I was looking into strong coincidences between three crimes. One of these put someone in jail for life, another will put someone in the dock in a murder trial starting next week, and someone has just been charged in the third.’
‘I’m obviously aware of that,’ said Sally. ‘That’s why I’m here. What I want to know is why? These cases are built on overwhelming evidence.’
‘And what if that evidence has been fabricated, created to tick all the boxes and convict the wrong people?’
‘Zoe, what if you aren’t ready to be back at work?’ Sally said slowly, venom on her tongue. ‘You went through something last year. Maybe it broke you.’
Zoe stood a moment, waiting for composure to catch up with her, before she responded. ‘Sally, there’s something more important than winning cases.’
‘Really? And what’s that?’
‘Justice. If there’s even the slightest possibility that this is the work of a serial killer setting up innocent people, you should be asking how you can help, not sneering at me. Same goes for everyone else,’ Zoe said, looking around. ‘We should all be interested in the truth, not just closing cases. We need to investigate every lead. Sally, you’re starting a murder prosecution in a week’s time. If there was a surprise on the way, wouldn’t you want to know?’
Sally said nothing, continuing to stare disdainfully at Zoe.
Zoe went on in a low, deliberate voice. ‘Sally, the thing is, I don’t really give a flying fuck about what you think I should be investigating. This feud you have with me—the one that clouds your judgment—is your invention. It lives in your head. I have nothing to do with it…and I never have.’
‘Well, we’ll see what you have to say once I’ve spoken to your DI,’ snapped Sally.
From the back of the room, Rob Loretti spoke, ‘No need, Ms Johnstone.’
Sally turned, scanning the room.
‘I’m backing Zoe,’ Rob went on. ‘All the way. And I am sure you wouldn’t want to try to impede the activities of this department. That would be a very serious overstep.’
Zoe felt like the cavalry had arrived.
Sally started to protest, ‘Yes, of course, but—’
‘I gave Zoe the okay to look at these cases,’ Rob said, addressing the room. ‘We have a person who may have been at all three funerals. I want to know if it’s true and, if so, who he is. That’s it. Now get back to work everyone. Zoe, I want an update in five minutes. Thanks.’ Rob turned on his heel and headed back to his office.
Sally, her neck now pink, turned quickly and walked towards the door, while the rest of the squad broke up, returning to their desks. Iain and Garry muttered something Zoe couldn’t make out.
When Zoe sat at her desk, Harry lay down under it.
She looked across at Charlie. ‘You okay?’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ He didn’t meet her gaze, continuing to stare at his screen.
Zoe saw the light flashing on her desk phone. She listened to the message.
‘Come on,’ she said to Charlie.