Chapter 37

When I ring police headquarters to arrange my next visit with Lou-Lou, they hit me with a shock announcement. Lou-Lou refuses to see me. When I ask why, they put me through to DC Ben Baker.

“Louise is getting support from her family,” he says.

Really? Like Helena and Clemence? They don’t even trust each other.

“She said to tell you to drop the things she asked you to do.” He stops. Waits. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Like what?”

“The sound of you dropping all the things that are none of your business.”

What’s happened to Ben?

“I can do better than that, Ben. Here’s the sound of me hanging up.”

The sudden ‘help’ from Lou-Lou’s family does the opposite of what I’m sure they intended. Now I’m really interested.

And suspicious.

Not only doesn’t she want to see me but she wants me drop the things she asked me to do. Translation: stop investigating the abduction and murder of three-year-old Alex. What harm could there be in my research of old newspaper reports? All the information is in the public domain. A well-documented crime with a conviction.

Lou-Lou discovered something but she couldn’t share it straight away. She needed someone to corroborate what she’d found. Why me? I can only think when she overheard I was visiting Helena, she also heard mention of my research skills.

But instead of my research validating Lou-Lou’s concerns, I’ve been convinced that the trace of DNA and a typo were signs of her obsession with her deceased step-siblings. I suppose she could have caused trouble for Helena if she’d found someone in the press interested in questioning her resurrected ‘evidence’. A headline like this is an old standby for some journalists: Famous Forensic Scientist Denies Mistakes Made.

But now I’m wondering about two things. What are they trying to hide that a trace of DNA and a typo have distracted us from finding? And what have they offered Lou-Lou to get me off the case?

Now I’m hooked, I won’t walk away.

Calista Faulks called me on her personal phone last night. I message her and cross my fingers.

Sorry for this quick question. I promise not to ring you. Why do you think your father confessed to the murder of Alex Loxton?

Her reply is quick.

He told me. He liked trials, all the publicity. But they offered him something to avoid a trial. He didn’t say what but maybe something like a ‘plea deal’? Now I’m going to block your number.

In simple terms, a plea deal means offering a reduced sentence to an offender in exchange for pleading guilty. But why would Milton Faulks, who was charged with killing several children in October and November of that year, have agreed to plead guilty to only one? Unless they offered him lesser charges for the other crimes.

But why?

Because Alex had been taken on Helena’s watch? And Tremayne Templeton wanted to save her the trauma of a trial? I don’t think the law works that way but that’s only what the public sees. Behind the scenes, the people with power can probably orchestrate the outcomes they want.

Is this the reason they want to shut down Lou-Lou’s mixed-up take on what happened to Alex? Because it’s bringing back all the stress of that awful time. Stress that ultimately led to Electra’s death. And the stress of Helena’s guilt, possibly even leading to her memory loss.

I’ve been treating this tragedy as a research exercise – possibly influenced by Helena’s dismissal of me – but the aftermath in all its horror lingers. I can’t imagine how it is for Helena, now the only one left, with a recalcitrant step-niece charged with murder. She must be asking herself if Lou-Lou’s skewed view of the data about Alex’s death caused her to argue with Ambrose, an argument that led to his murder.

Baxter’s call ushers in a much-needed state-change.

“Tiggy, Tiggy, Zaylee has a surprise for me. It’s a secret and she won’t tell me what it is. She was in the code group at the PI course. It’s what we have in common. And she’s pretty.”

Baxter is sounding excited and smitten. I visualise Zaylee at the camera club. Her full red skirt under a hooded cape, and a laced-up black bodice over a white blouse. A steampunk version of Little Red Riding Hood.

“What kind of secret is it?” I ask.

“She’s picking me up and taking me to see something special. I’m waiting out the front of my house. Here she is. Bye, Tiggy.”

His optimism is infectious. I put aside all thoughts of the Loxtons and return to a manageable murder in Death by Deception.

Two hours later, Baxter calls again.

“Tiggy, Tiggy.” He’s whispering this time. “I’m hiding in the bushes in the front of my house. If Mum knows I’m back, she’ll ask me to help with the twins. But I have to talk to you first.”

“What’s happened? Are you OK? Is Zaylee OK?”

“Zaylee’s gone home. I thought we were going on one of those mystery dates, but it wasn’t. It was a mystery but it wasn’t a date. She took me to Fletch’s place.”

He sounds disappointed about that.

“They wanted to show me some photos,” he says. “I need to tell you about them.”

“What kind of photos?”

“Not porn or anything! Surveillance pictures. They’ve been following someone – a guy who breaks into houses and steals small things then sells them. Fletch and Zaylee take turns doing the surveillance so he doesn’t notice them. He’s too full of himself anyway. You know how Zaylee brought that photo to the Reflect theme night? That was a surveillance photo. The guy wasn’t in it so she thought it was OK to use for the camera club.”

Lou-Lou was in it, though. Her shadow. “That photo was the house on the corner of Serpentine Crescent and Holt Road.”

“Yeah, she says the guy goes in there and takes one or two things each time.” He stops. “Coming Mum! I’m just talking to Tiggy. Five minutes. I’m not cold!” He drops his voice again. “Zaylee’s got photos of him inside the house, like picking something up and then it’s not there anymore. They have videos too but the photos are better. He works in the house next door, gardening and stuff, and Zaylee doesn’t know how he gets inside the house on the corner. Not through the doors because they still have crime tape on them. She wonders if he’s even staying there and just keeping the automatic lights that the owner used before he was murdered.”

I have so many questions.

“Why did they want to show you the photos, Baxter?”

“This is the part I need to tell you the most. They want me to help them talk to the police.” He stops again. “I’ve got to go. Before Mum murders the twins.”

I tell him to do nothing and tell no-one else about this until we can talk properly tomorrow when he comes to walk Raider.

After he hangs up, I pace. I could just text Ben Baker and ask him if they have any surveillance on Number 24. But I know the answer would be no. Because the crime tape hasn’t been ripped away and they never found the secret doors, they’ll think the place is secure.

Someone gardening for Helena. Has he somehow found the connecting doors while he was in the mudroom getting tools?

Did he murder Ambrose?

The phone call from Tremayne at just after 5pm isn’t really a surprise. He’s had time to think about my email about Milton Faulks and talk to Lou-Lou’s ‘family’ about my research.

“Tiggy,” he says. “A word.”

“Hello, Tremayne. Go ahead.”

“You have no reason to be digging into the murder of Alex Loxton from decades ago. None. Frankly, I wonder about your motives. To stir up trouble for Helena? After she rejected your request to fictionalise her life as an easy plot in one of your tawdry mysteries?”

Ouch. I’ve been feeling sorry for Helena but her lie about me is doing some heavy lifting.

“Helena is the only person left in her family,” he continues. “Think about that. After an interviewer delved into the murder of Alex, it appears her niece Electra took her own life. And now while Helena’s dealing with the murder of her brother, probably at the hands of her adopted niece, she’s got you sniffing into her past tragedies. It’s intrusive and, frankly, distasteful. This phone call is a verbal ‘cease and desist’ warning. Don’t make me put it in writing. It could become expensive.”

Click. It appears the cocktail invitation is off the table.

I pour myself a glass of red and wonder about Helena’s lie. She first made it when she was sitting in the park with Barracuda and leaving a message on my voicemail. I thought she was either suffering from a memory lapse or lying for Barracuda’s benefit. The second option now seems unlikely, given the power differential between the forensic scientist and the mute fishmonger. But if she’s also repeated it to Tremayne, could the lie have become fixed in her memory as a true account?

Or could there be another reason?

I know Tremayne contacted her after I first contacted him. If that’s when she told him I was pitching to fictionalise her life story, she either thinks that’s why we met or she needed to explain to him how we came to make contact. How can I correct it without revealing her original plea to me for help?

Either way, Tremayne doesn’t know she’s having memory lapses. Doesn’t know that if they’re exposed, they could cast doubt on many past convictions they’ve both built their reputations on.

And no-one’s going to warn him.