‘What lawyer does a lawyer call?’ Pete was ridiculously cheerful as he handed Liz a coffee. ‘Thought you could use this.’
‘I can. Thank you. What do you mean?’
‘Oh. Richard Roscoe was picked up trying to board a plane to Perth. Says it was a business trip but apparently whined about being bullied and bleated about wanting legal representation ever since.’
‘Another one down! We just need to make something stick. What did you find at Farrelly’s?’
He rolled his chair over.
‘The man has excellent taste in interior decorating. A lot of money is in that house of his from top end appliances to expensive artwork. We’ll check if the art is stolen but my instinct is that he owns them legally. Someone’s going through his home office so we’ll see what comes of it. No sign of weapons. Nothing out of order.’
‘Then why are you so happy?’
Perhaps I could go home soon. Sleep sounds nice.
Pete raised his eyebrows. ‘You haven’t heard? The false ceiling in Pickering’s office in the warehouse had several duffle bags tucked away at the back. One filled with cash. Another with weapons. Our friend is going down for a long time.’
She couldn’t help herself. She laughed aloud, ending with a short ‘whoop’.
When his phone beeped, Pete read the message and pushed his chair back. ‘No rest for me. Terry’s heading back to the warehouse and I’m taking over the search of Pickering’s house. I might see you in the morning, or I might be asleep.’
‘Me too. Watch out in that storm.’
‘What storm?’ He grinned as thunder rumbled around the building.
Liz finished the coffee, letting her body relax for a few minutes and staring at the whiteboard. Two bad guys in custody. The other one, who might not even be more than Pickering’s hired help with the containers, wouldn’t be too far from capture. Hardy would be found within hours.
So why do I feel something’s wrong?
Tossing the cup away, she began rearranging the whiteboard.
Pickering was running a racket to move criminals. Was Malcolm Hardy the first? Or had there been a succession of containers? She thought the former. David Weaver had been trying to extricate himself from the business so possibly had an idea what was ahead and wanted no part of it. The change of plans at the warehouse for a pick up from one night to the next might explain why Roscoe was a decoy. The pressure from Hardy to get him out of the city had clearly been mounting with him being responsible for three deaths…
Two deaths.
She put Ginny’s photo up and beneath it, Jerry Black’s. Both had strong ties to Hardy. Ginny had most likely been the one to remove his handcuffs and possibly offer him sanctuary and Black was involved in misdirecting the police and giving the criminal breathing space.
Ginny was strangled.
Black’s throat cut.
But then there was Marco.
His photo went next. Strangled.
‘It couldn’t have been Hardy.’
He was—until proven otherwise—in a shipping container in another state when Marco died. Pickering was also accounted for. Roscoe was a coward, not a killer capable of strangulation.
Liz phoned Pete.
‘Don’t tell me I need to turn around?’
‘Nah. Can you remind me what your informant said about Ginny? About a boyfriend?’ She put a photo of the bolt-cutters she’d found in the apartment next to Ginny.
‘Not much to tell. He was something of a handyman. Oh that’s right, Ginny said the boyfriend had fixed a kitchen drawer. New sliders or something. Even took her with him to the hardware store in the city where she’d never been.’
‘Hardware store?’
‘Lots of blokes go to hardware stores. Lots of women too.’
‘But only some grew up working in one. Any idea how long ago he took her shopping?’
‘Lizzie,’ he sighed loudly. ‘No. Let’s deal with one problem at a time and if we can’t get anything out of the searches and the idiots in custody, then we’ll start looking for footage. Okay?’
‘Yeah. I’m a bit worried about Vince.’
‘He probably has a gun, and no self-respecting criminal would take him on. Seriously.’
He was right. Vince was resourceful and street smart. But still.
One of the detectives waved to get her attention.
‘Gotta go.’
She hung up and followed the detective, jogging to catch him. ‘Where are we going?
‘Sarge says it’s like Grand Central Station as far as one family is concerned.’
‘Okay, I’ll go. Can you ask Bradley Pickering, very nicely, if he remembers where Farrelly was on the day Hardy escaped? Take him a coffee and let him know we called his lawyer.’
Back down at the desk, the watch officer rolled his eyes at Liz. ‘Mrs Pickering for you.’
Oh lord, is she here to report her husband missing?
Exhaustion was playing with her mind.
‘Carla? Would you like to come through?’
The woman was soaking wet, her hair dripping water as she got to her feet. Her clothes were filthy down one side with what looked like mud.
‘Let’s get you some coffee and a towel.’
The woman sitting opposite her was no friend. But Carla had no friends anyway now. No love in her life. No husband. Not after this terrible night. Only by coming forward might she salvage her relationship with Melanie because if Vince cut her out of the little girl’s life, there’d be nothing left to live for.
‘Carla? Why were you soaked through? And so muddy? Did you fall?’
The detective had brought her tracksuit pants and a long-sleeved top, along with towels and some wet wipes. Then, she’d left her in privacy for a few minutes to change, returning with hot coffee.
‘Why are you being so kind, officer?’
‘Liz. Just call me Liz, okay? Did someone attack you?’
‘Oh. Not physically. No.’ She touched her face which was dry but must look a sight. She’d tried to clean off the mud and streaked makeup. ‘Will you arrest my husband, please?’
The other woman’s face barely changed expression but her hand, holding a pen over a notebook, raised a little. ‘Why?’
Why? Oh my god, he killed…
Panic gripped her. If she said the words aloud, they’d be real. No going back from it. No unsaying the truth. All the years she’d loved him so deeply that she’d changed her life for him. Turned herself, bit by bit, into the woman he always wanted.
Not the woman I wanted to be.
Her heart hurt.
‘You asked why I came in so wet and muddy. I was lying next to Susie’s grave for hours. Even when the rain began I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place from what I’d overheard.’
‘What did you overhear? What made you go to the cemetery at night?’
Carla’s fingers were turning her wedding ring around and around until she noticed and abruptly stopped.
‘Brad was talking to someone on his phone. At home. I was going to ask him if he preferred white or red wine with dinner and accidentally heard him telling this person that… well, that he needed to discuss what to do with Vince. It was the way he said it that frightened me so when he left, I followed. The last thing I expected was for him to go to the cemetery.’
‘Go on.’
‘He met with that lawyer, Richard Roscoe and Abel. I can’t stand Abel. I couldn’t hear at first, but I managed to get close enough hiding behind the trees.’
‘That was brave to do. They didn’t see you at all?’
‘No they definitely thought they were free to speak. Abel said something about Brad showing some photographs to Vince—I think to blackmail him, and Brad said Vince threw them back at him. You’re Vince’s friend. Do you know what he meant?’
She did. Her eyes betrayed her. ‘I can’t say.’
Carla’s heart raced so fast she thought she might faint. But Melanie’s sweet face was always in her mind and was the only thing worth fighting for.
‘I’m pretty sure Brad had something to do with the car accident. He even admitted he’d not wanted David to die, let alone… Susie.’ It was getting harder to speak as her throat tightened. ‘I think he made it happen. But didn’t do it himself. I think Abel did. He grabbed Richard Roscoe and was very angry at him and worst of all, said that sometimes collateral damage couldn’t be helped.’
Liz leaned across the table. ‘Collateral damage? What did he mean, Carla?’
‘I’m so sorry. I should have come here sooner but I couldn’t... didn’t know what to do. I think Abel is going to try and kill Vince.’
Liz burst into the interrogation room, startling Pickering whose head was on the table in his arms. As his eyes focussed on her, he drew back.
‘Where’s my lawyer?’
Caught between desperation and rules, she dropped both palms onto the table with a thump and leaned as close to him as she could reach without grabbing his scrawny neck.
‘One chance, Bradley, so listen. Carla just walked into the station and told me Abel Farrelly plans to kill Vince Carter. She is willing to give a full statement based on what she overheard earlier tonight at the cemetery.’
His mouth dropped open.
‘If anything happens to Vince or Melanie, I will make sure you go to jail for a very long time. This is your one chance to give me information which might — might — help you. Is she right? Is Abel Farrelly after Vince and Mel?’
He pulled back as far as the chair allowed.
‘Carla’s here?’
‘I don’t have time for this.’ Liz turned to go.
‘No, wait. Is she in trouble?’
She damned well should be.
Liz spun back. ‘I will do my best to help her but if I leave without an answer—’
‘Yes. Abel is probably there now. I’ve got information about him. About what he did to his parents. I can help—’
Liz slammed the door behind herself, dialling as she ran for the lift.