Carla couldn’t believe what they’d accomplished in a day. Melanie’s new bedroom was taking shape and although there was still a lot to do, this was a great start. All the old furniture was gone and there were drop sheets on the carpet ready for the walls to be painted. They were primed for her to start in the morning. She wasn’t half bad at painting and decorating and this was a total labour of love.
Whatever Vince Carter said to Bradley when he visited this morning had galvanised her husband into taking positive action. He wouldn’t tell her about the conversation but when he suggested they go furniture shopping… well, it was obvious.
Vince had reconsidered.
Whether Melanie became a permanent part of their family, or a regular visitor didn’t matter at this point. Little by little, Carla would work on Vince. She’d prove to him how happy she made Melanie and how much easier his life was playing the important role of grandparent—but on the weekends. Or every other weekend.
Bradley had helped her choose a new bed, a bedside table, and lovely chair which could turn into a single bed for when her friends stayed over. All of these were a few weeks away from delivery which gave her time to finish all the other touches. Melanie could choose her own manchester and anything else she wanted. Perhaps a small bookcase. And a fish tank.
When they’d got home she was on a high and wasted no time showing her husband exactly how much she loved him for being so supportive. But while he’d have stayed in their bed for the rest of the day, she’d prodded him and made him help her in here.
And now it is becoming a room fit for a little girl.
‘Our little girl.’
There was nothing more to do in here tonight, so she closed the door and went into the kitchen to begin dinner. She’d make one of Brad’s favourites and they could share a bottle of wine and have an early night.
Red or white?
He wasn’t in the living room but from there she could hear him talking to someone and followed the sound. The front door was open a crack and after peeping through to confirm he was on his phone rather than with a visitor, she started back.
‘Not at the warehouse. Too many eyes on it.’
Carla froze at the doorway to the living room. Who was watching the business? And why?
‘No. Never my house. Not ever. Carla knows nothing of any of this and I’ll be damned if she’s ever going to.’
A sudden cold swept through her and her body stiffened.
Bradley laughed shortly. ‘You’ve got to be kidding, but yeah, I’ll meet you there. But we have to talk about Carter as well as the other matters.’
Vince? What about Vince?
‘I’m leaving now.’
She couldn’t be caught here, eavesdropping. Carla moved quickly and quietly as the front door closed.
‘Baby? I’m going out for an hour.’
Her throat was constricted, and she had to force out a squeaky, ‘See you then.’
‘You okay?’
Fingers crossed behind her back; she took a deep breath. ‘Going to have a shower. Then do dinner.’
‘Sure thing. Back soon.’
The second the front door clicked shut, she raced for her handbag and keys.
‘Pete packed it in?’ Terry went past Liz’s desk to toss his keys into his office, then wandered back. There was only a couple of other detectives left and both worked on local video footage from the areas of the two different murders.
‘No. He’s meeting with one of his old informants. Something about Ginny.’
‘A break would be nice.’ Terry dragged a chair across and sat opposite. ‘So far all the footage around her building showed exactly nothing of value. Trouble is it has more than a hundred apartments. Strange there’s no internal cameras.’
‘Why she lived there, I imagine. The average john wouldn’t want to be caught going into her place. We are following up on a couple of deliveries which looked odd, out of normal business hours, but if Pete’s information can help, so much the better.’ Liz stretched. ‘What happened with Roscoe?’
Terry grunted. ‘He said if I wasn’t arresting him then he wasn’t coming in for another interview. Very tempting but I want the case solid before we take that step. We just need one thing. Just one.’
‘So you didn’t ask about his teenage years?’
‘Not yet. Weren’t you bringing Farrelly in?’
‘Will do, boss, once we find him. Not at home and the warehouse is closed. There’s a small sign on the window now, something about having a day off and being open as usual tomorrow. I’d love to know if something happened there last night. It just feels as if it did.’
Terry pushed himself to his feet. ‘Go home, Liz. We’ll start over in the morning and I’ll put a unit onto Roscoe overnight. Might see if one is spare to cover Farrelly’s home as well.’ He headed to his office.
She didn’t want to go home. Didn’t want to stop searching through the mountain of paperwork she’d collected on her desk to cross reference everything available since the moment Malcolm Hardy escaped. And with the van now confirmed as the one involved in Susie’s death—and belonging to PickerPack Holdings—her gut screamed that there was more to this than a stolen vehicle and an accident.
The detecting part of being a detective isn’t working.
Liz closed folders and piled papers. Terry was right. Go home, eat, sleep.
Shrugging on an overcoat, Terry came out of his office. The expression on his face had Liz on her feet in a second.
‘There’s a body.’
‘No going home then?’ She reached for her keys.
‘Behind Spironi’s.’
He was out of the door.
‘No going home.’
Pete was already on the scene in the alley behind the restaurant. Someone had called an ambulance but one look at the body should have told the caller not to bother.
‘Same as Ginny. Strangled. Hardy again,’ Pete said.
Not convinced, Liz stood back as a crime scene officer took photographs. It was Marco, his eyes open and the strings from his apron wrapped around his neck. It wasn’t surprising nobody had found him until now as his body lay length-wise against the alley wall and he was on his side. From a few metres away he might have been asleep if he’d even been noticed in the dark.
‘He didn’t die in that position, did he?’
‘Signs of a struggle near the dumpster. He has a cut on his arm and there’s blood on the metal there. Back of his shoes show scuff marks. Might be from dragging him here, so no, this is a placed scene.’
She walked away, tipping her head for Pete to follow. Terry was near the back door of the restaurant speaking to a distraught woman wearing a Spironi’s apron, so Liz stopped far enough away for a private conversation.
‘What did your informant say?’
‘Reckons Ginny had cut all ties with Hardy when he went to prison, or shortly after. And that she had a boyfriend of sorts. Some dude who didn’t care about the johns as long as she was available when he called around,’ Pete said.
‘Anyone we know?’
‘He never met him. Only thing he knows is the dude can fix anything. Handyman kind of thing.’
Mike burst out of the back door and began yelling at Terry.
‘Handyman… someone who might own bolt cutters?’
Pete nodded. ‘Like the ones we found in Ginny’s laundry.’
‘Useful for removing hand cuffs and cutting padlocks on gates.’
His eyes widened. ‘We might get the bolt cutters revisited. And another full sweep of Ginny’s apartment. Do you reckon this is enough to get a warrant for the warehouse? See if that padlock is still on the premises?’
‘I guess we could simply ask Pickering… but where would the fun be in that?’
The yelling got louder. ‘That man did this! Pretending to be one of you and has a score to settle.’
Pete leaned in a bit. ‘Maybe it was Vince.’
Liz rolled her eyes.
Why on earth are you here?
After second-guessing herself for following Bradley, Carla didn’t know whether to be shocked or curious when he parked at the cemetery. She’d pulled into a different part of the carpark.
Now he waited near David’s grave, shuffling from foot to foot. The cemetery was deserted—as it should be at night. She’d stopped a distance back, not wishing to intrude on his private visit to his friend’s grave.
‘There you are boss.’
The sound of a man’s voice startled Carla and she ducked behind a tree trunk, heart racing. After a second, she peered around. No wonder Brad had said on the phone he didn’t want his wife to know who he was meeting with. The awful Abel Farrelly was with another man… she couldn’t make out who. Careful not to be seen, Carla darted from tree to tree until she found a better aspect. Was that the lawyer? The one on television with the escaped killer?
The other two men stopped between David and Susie’s headstones, and Abel leaned against the former.
So disrespectful.
‘Why the cemetery?’ Brad asked.
Abel smirked. ‘I like it here, reminds me why following orders is important.’
Roscoe—that was his name—was quiet, his eyes darting from the headstones to Bradley then Abel. He looked nervous.
‘You two had better not have been followed,’ Brad said.
‘Never happen. Not to me. How about you, Richard?’ That Abel was too cocky for Carla’s liking. Always had been one to push buttons.
‘Let’s do this quickly then,’ Brad said. ‘First off, Hardy is safe. Within two days he’ll be starting his new life in a tropical paradise. It took a bit of messing around to make it happen but with the credibility Duncan Chandler brings and the freight company under control, we know this new enterprise of ours works. Law enforcement are hardly going to suspect toy transports.’
‘Not relaxing until Malcolm is there. Let’s not count our chickens too early.’ Roscoe glanced over his shoulder. ‘What if the truck gets stopped for some reason?’
‘There’s no risk,’ Abel said. ‘That container is impenetrable unless someone knows where to look. All the driver has to do is deliver the shipment and my contact will take care of everything else.’
Hardy? Malcolm Hardy the killer?
Carla could barely breathe. She felt sick to her stomach that her husband would know anything about that evil person.
Roscoe cleared his throat. ‘I have two more shipments ready to be booked in. One in a week and the other in three. But I’m getting a lot of heat from the police and most of that is thanks to Jerry’s death.’ He stared at Abel. ‘He was doing what we wanted. He always did.’
‘He finally outlived his usefulness. Everyone is expendable.’ Abel’s laugh was like chalk on a blackboard.
Brad glanced around. Carla shrank as close to the tree as she could.
‘We need to talk about Vince Carter.’
‘Didn’t you show him the photographs and letter?’ Abel crossed his arms. ‘There should be nothing further to do but welcome the kid into your home.’
‘Except he threw it back in my face. He’s not the pushover everyone thinks, and he’ll protect Melanie to his dying breath.’
‘There’s your answer then.’
Before a gasp could escape, Carla covered her mouth with both hands.
‘I’m not sure about it, Abel. There’s still some legal channels-.’
‘You’re really prepared to risk him coming after you? He has the ear of cops. He is a man without a soul who won’t stop until he finds a way to grind you into the ground and stop that kid seeing you and wifey again,’ Abel said.
‘Melanie has to be kept out of it.’
‘Can't always help collateral damage.’
Brad lurched at Abel and grabbed the front of his jacket. Roscoe whipped his arm around Brad’s neck.
Abel’s smirk was back. ‘Oh, I'd be real careful.’
Brad released him but Roscoe kept the hold on his neck. ‘Just remember, Brad, you couldn't handle David. He was leaving you and taking his knowledge of our operation with him,’ he hissed.
Roscoe removed his arm and pushed Brad away. He doubled over, sucking in oxygen.
‘I never wanted him dead, let alone poor Susie,’ Brad gasped.
Abel shrugged. ‘Well, it worked in your favour.’ He turned to Roscoe. ‘Don’t ever step in like that again. Your only purpose to me is providing criminals as cargo for a lot of money. If that dries up I will end you.’
Roscoe shrank back and Abel’s laughter cut into the night.
At last they left.
She counted to one hundred to make sure the three men were well and truly gone before stumbling out from behind the trunk of a tree which had somehow kept her upright for the past few minutes when her legs wanted to buckle.
My husband…
Using all her willpower, Carla made it to place the men had stood.
Susie died because you are a criminal?
Had Vince been right for all those years? He told Susie to watch Brad. Warned her David was getting in too deep with a dangerous situation. But to be involved in killing a man who wanted no part of something criminal?
‘But I never wanted him dead, let alone poor Susie.’ Bradley had said those words.
Did you know? Did you make it happen?
The world was spinning, and Carla fell to her knees, and then, as sobs racked her body, she crawled to Susie’s grave and lay beside it.