by Grace York
Isaac opened his own notebook. "That fits with what we found out," he said. "She's from Geraldton, about five hours north of Perth."
"I know Geraldton. One of my uncles lives there. I visited for my aunt's funeral a few years ago. Very windy, that's what I remember."
"Most of Western Australia is windy," said Isaac. "Anyway, according to our information Harriet left Geraldton ten years ago and has been travelling with Hanley Brothers ever since. She and Owen married seven years ago, and Henry was born a couple of years after that. He's about to turn five."
"And he's not Owen's?"
Isaac shook his head. "No."
"Does Owen know that?"
"Not as far as we can tell."
"How do you know about this?" Addison asked. It was worth a try.
"We got a tip off from an anonymous source, and we've been able to verify the information. That's all I can say, Addison." He said her name in the way that meant he wasn't going to discuss it further.
"Okay. Do you think this has anything to do with Frankie's murder?"
"We don't know. It's possible Frankie found out and threatened to expose the truth. The picture we're getting of Frankie Hammond is of a man who was completely out for himself. He was the kind of guy who would use whatever he had, including information on others, for his own personal gain."
"So if he found out about Owen not being Henry's biological father, he could have blackmailed Harriet?"
"That's one possibility we're looking at."
Addison made a note. She was starting to feel like a private detective. It was kind of fun.
An alternative possibility struck her. "Do you think Frankie could have been Henry's father?" she asked.
"We looked at that. Frankie only joined Hanley Brothers two years ago. There's no reason to suggest he knew Harriet – or any of the other Hanley's – before then."
"So it looks like he didn't know them when Henry would have been conceived," Addison summarised.
"Right. But we're still trying to get a full picture of his past. We can run background checks through our systems to see if victims or suspects are known to us, but anything more comprehensive takes time. And over a long holiday weekend, a lot of things are almost impossible."
That must be frustrating. Addison remembered Rob complaining of how slow some things actually worked, even in a homicide investigation where time was of the essence. It's not like it is on television, Rob used to say. There's no wrapping up a murder case nice and neatly in an hour.
Addison focused back on the case. "So if Henry's parentage is a factor in this murder, then it was most likely as material for Frankie to blackmail Harriet. And if that was the case, then it puts Harriet in the frame for murder."
"Correct."
Addison struggled to get her head around that idea. She couldn't see Harriet as a murderer. Then again, there had been two other murders in Getaway Bay recently that she'd never seen coming, either.
"Do you have any idea who might be the father?" Addison asked. "Dot said they went back to Geraldton every year. Maybe she caught up with an old flame?"
"We're still investigating that," said Isaac. "But so far we haven't unearthed any old boyfriends."
"What about asking her? If you know for a fact Henry isn't Owen's, why can't you just come right out and ask Harriet who the father is?"
"We can," said Isaac, lifting the coffee mug to his mouth and taking a sip. "But I don't want to yet, not without a direct link to Frankie Hammond. It might not have anything to do with the murder."
That seemed fair enough. Addison turned the page in her notebook. "So what about Jake, the middle brother," she said. "Have you discovered anything about him?"
Isaac pushed his coffee mug aside and pulled a stack of papers in front of himself. "Quite a lot. Jake Hanley is in a significant amount of debt. Most of it due to gambling."
"That makes sense," said Addison. She told Isaac about the conversation she'd overheard between Jake and an unknown male. Jake must have been the one who owed money to the other man.
"Did it sound like a threatening conversation?" Isaac asked.
"No, not really. The other man sounded impatient. A little aggrieved, you might say. But I didn't think it was about to get violent or anything like that. It wasn't a very long exchange, at least not the part I overheard."
"Do you think you'd be able to identify this other person?"
Addison shook her head. "I didn't see him, and he had an ordinary voice. I doubt I'd be confident."
"Okay."
"Do you think Jake's debt could have something to do with Frankie's death?" Addison asked, then thought of something else. "Did Jake owe any money to Frankie?"
"We're still working on sorting out Frankie's finances, so we're not sure. It's difficult dealing with the banks over the long weekend. We should know more tomorrow. But still, Frankie's bank accounts are unlikely to tell us whether Jake owed him money."
"I'd imagine that sort of thing would be difficult to trace. What about whether Frankie left any money or assets to anyone? Is there a will?"
"Again, we're still checking. Like a lot of the carnival staff, he had no fixed address. Makes it difficult to find out anything, including whether he had a lawyer or even a will."
Addison couldn't imagine having no fixed address. She breathed a deep sigh of relief every time she entered the beach house. Even though she'd only been there a few months, it was already home.
"What did he do during the winters when the carnival stopped?" she asked Isaac.
"We don't know what he did last year. Short-term rental somewhere, or stayed with friends. That's what a lot of them do. But apparently this year the Hanleys had invited him to spend winter at their property just outside of Brisbane."
"Oh? That's interesting. He was that close to them?"
"He was that close to Morris Hanley, the patriarch of the family. It seems Morris had a habit of inviting some trusted staff to the property, and this year he'd asked Frankie."
"I thought Frankie wasn't very well liked?"
"That's the impression we've been getting. But apparently Morris Hanley thought the world of him."
21
Addison reflected on what Isaac had just said. As opposed to almost everyone else the police had spoken to, Morris Hanley actually liked Frankie Hammond. Thought the world of him, even. Holly had referred to Morris as 'Old Mr Hanley', and most others described a semi-retired man in his seventies who wandered about the carnival giving his opinion but largely being ignored.
Evidently, he was still in charge at his home, though, and able to invite whomever he liked to come and stay. Addison wondered how well that had gone down with the rest of the family.
"Did you find out anything about Jake's wife?" Addison asked.
"Davina Hanley," said Isaac, turning a few pages of his notebook. "Yes, here it is. Kendall interviewed her extensively. Unlike the rest of the family, Davina had a lot to say."
"Oh? Like what?"
"She isn't very happy, by the sounds of it. The carnival lifestyle doesn't suit her at all."
Addison nodded. "That's what Dot said, more or less. Still, I guess she knew what she was marrying into. I can't see Jake having been able to hide it from her before the wedding."
"Right. Apparently, she didn't realise how hard life on the road eight months of the year was going to be. She fell in love with Jake, and the glamorous side of the travelling lifestyle. But when the novelty wore off she was left with a seemingly endless journey from town to town, doing the same thing day in and day out. Add to that Jake's gambling and resultant debt…"
"It doesn't paint a fantastic picture of happiness," said Addison. "So she knows about the debt?"
Isaac nodded. "Kendall said she brought it up. That's how we found out about it in the first place. But we did some checking of our own, and we're not sure Davina is aware of the full extent of the debt. In fact, we think she's probably contributing to it herself."
"Let
me guess – retail therapy?"
"Something like that."
"But Davina's not a suspect in Frankie's murder, is she?"
"No," said Isaac. He checked his notes again. "We've confirmed she was in the ticket booth at the time of the murder."
"Have you been able to rule anyone else out?" Addison asked.
"No, not yet. We're still looking at a suspect pool consisting of Paolo and Gianna, the three Hanley brothers, Harriet Hanley, and the two clowns."
"And Bob Carter," said Addison. "Have you ruled him out?"
"No, not yet."
Addison checked her watch; it was almost six o'clock. She wanted to get back to the beach house and change, then take Layla and Olivia for a drink and dinner at the pub.
"We should probably call it a night," said Isaac. "My microwave meal is calling."
Addison made a quick decision. "We're thinking of going to the Red Lion for dinner tonight. Do you want to join us?"
A smile spread across Isaac's face. "I'd love to. Thank you."
"Well you can come on one condition," said Addison, deciding to use the situation to her advantage.
"What's that?"
"You consider making Adam a police volunteer as well."
"Addison—"
She held up a hand to stop him. "He's an excellent investigator, Isaac. He's a crime writer, like me. We know all the tricks in the book, so to speak."
"That's what I'm afraid of. At least you have a grounding in the real world, with your late husband being a homicide detective. Adam's grip on reality may be somewhat more tenuous."
"Nonsense," said Addison. "At least promise me you'll think about it. That is, if you want a nice pub meal instead of microwave rubbish tonight."
Isaac stood and held up a hand, ushering her out of his office. "Fine," he said as they entered the main part of the police station and headed for the front door. "I'll consider it. But I can't make any promises."
Addison was showered, changed, and in the pub with Olivia and Layla less than an hour later.
"Are you two going to talk shop all night?" asked Olivia when she saw Isaac enter the pub and make his way over to them.
"Not at all," said Addison. "In fact, I've got something else to do if you two can distract him for a few minutes."
Olivia and Layla both frowned at that, but neither got the chance to ask what she meant before Isaac joined them.
"Good evening, ladies," he said. "Can I get anyone a drink before I sit?"
"Yes please," said Olivia and Layla together. They put their orders in, and Isaac turned for the bar.
Layla was the first to jump in once he was out of earshot. "What are you going to do?" she asked Addison.
"Nothing dangerous," she answered, surprised by the concerned looks on their faces. "I just want to talk to someone alone."
"So why the big secret?" asked Olivia. "Why do we have to distract your boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend," said Addison with an eye roll. "I don't want him to know until after I speak to them, that's all."
Layla smirked. "You want to surprise him, don't you?"
"No."
"Yeah you do," said Olivia, joining in.
Why she'd thought inviting Isaac along for dinner with these two was a good idea Addison would never know. She just didn't like the idea of him home alone with a microwave meal. Not after he'd only just got over a cold. The man needed a decent feed.
Isaac returned to the table with a tray of drinks, divvied them up, and put the tray back on the bar before finally taking his seat.
"So, what's good to eat here?" he asked.
The three of them stared at him. "You've never eaten here?" asked Olivia.
"No, I haven't."
"And you've lived here, what, ten years?"
"Something like that."
Olivia laughed. "We've lived here three months and I can't count the number of times we've eaten here."
"You should be able to recommend what's good then," said Isaac.
"Good point," said Addison. She handed them each a menu. "You guys check these out while I visit the ladies. If you order, I'll have the chicken schnitzel." She handed Olivia her credit card and left the table before anyone could protest.
The toilets were down a corridor on the other side of the bar. Addison walked around the bar then, when she was sure Isaac wasn't looking, leant over and asked the guy serving whether Bob Carter was around.
"I think he's in the office," said the young man. He had a scruffy surfer look, and mustn't have been much older than the legal drinking age. Addison hadn't seen him here before, but that wasn't unusual. Bob hired backpackers from time to time as casual staff.
"Can I go through?" Addison asked.
The young man shrugged. "I don't see why not."
Addison walked past the ladies' toilets and on toward the office. Bob was the local who had managed to keep the carnival coming back to Getaway Bay for twenty years. She didn't know what she was going to ask him, but with all the questions swirling around her head about the Hanleys, she thought having known the family for so long he was at least worth talking to.
As she got closer to the office she heard raised voices. She recognised Bob's voice, and the conversation sounded private. She turned on her heel and was about to walk away when she heard the other voice. This time it was one she recognised instantly.
Harriet Hanley.
Frozen in place, Addison couldn't help herself. She had to listen, and within moments she knew why Bob Carter worked so hard to keep the carnival coming back to Getaway Bay every year.
22
Addison composed herself in the bathroom before rejoining the little group at her table. She was desperate to tell Isaac what she'd overheard, but she couldn't. Not while Layla and Olivia were there.
They'd already ordered the food, and Addison tried to put her information out of her mind and join in the small talk while they waited. It was hard. All she could think about was Bob and Harriet.
It made so much sense. They were around the same age, she thought. Perhaps Bob was a couple of years older. What was it Mrs Jones had said on Friday night? Bob had struck up a friendship with Morris Hanley when the carnival had first come to Getaway Bay twenty years ago. That would have been before Harriet joined them.
So Bob genuinely loved the carnival and wanted them to keep coming back. It was good for the town, of course, bringing in the last rush of tourists before the quieter winter season. But once Harriet came along, Addison bet Bob had an extra reason to keep bringing the carnival back to the bay.
"Addison?" Isaac's voice cut through her reflection. She realised the three of them were staring at her.
"Sorry, miles away," she said. "What was that?"
"I asked whether you were baking for Hazel tomorrow," said Isaac. "And if you are, will there be any of those delicious cinnamon and pecan scrolls?"
"Oh, right. Yes, and yes," she said with a smile.
"Where were you?" Olivia asked.
"Huh?"
"You just said you were miles away. Where? What were you thinking about, Mum?"
"Oh, nothing. Grocery list for tomorrow. Sorry." She turned her attention back to the group and pushed thoughts of Bob Carter and Harriet Hanley out of her mind.
After they'd eaten, Layla at least got the message. "Come on, Olivia," she said, linking their arms together. "Let's walk home. It's a beautiful night."
"Walk? Really?"
"Yes, walk," said Layla, trying to signal Olivia with her eyes. It was comical to watch. Addison was sure Isaac knew exactly what Layla was doing, too. Olivia was the only clueless one.
"But what about the car?"
"Your mum can bring it home later," she said, practically dragging Olivia toward the door by now.
"Oh, right." A smile spread across Olivia's face as she finally caught on. "It is a beautiful night. Bye Mum. Thanks for dinner."
"I'll see you at home soon," Addison said, shaking her head at the both of them.<
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"I assume that was some sort of attempt to leave us alone to talk about the case?" Isaac asked.
"It was an attempt to leave us alone, at least," said Addison. "I don't care why. But yes, we need to talk about the case."
Addison confessed that her earlier visit to the ladies' room was actually an intention to speak to Bob Carter about the Hanley's.
"Addison," said Isaac with that stern voice he put on when she'd done something he wasn't happy about. "I promised your son I'd keep you safe. The role of a police volunteer is strictly an administrative one—"
"Oh, come on. I was hardly putting myself in danger going to talk to a local publican in his own very crowded pub, was I? What do you think could have happened? How could I possibly have been in danger?"
Isaac lifted his beer glass to his lips and drained the contents, keeping one eye on her the whole time.
"Yeah, okay. Fair enough," he said, placing the glass back down on the coaster. He positioned it so it was exactly in the middle of the cardboard disc. "What did you learn?" he finally asked.
"That Bob is Henry's father," she said with a triumphant grin.
Isaac knocked over the glass.
"Lucky that was empty," said Addison, righting it and putting it deliberately off-centre on the coaster. She kept one eye on it, and sure enough he moved it back to the centre.
"You actually overheard them say Bob was the father?"
"As good as," said Addison. "They were arguing about his schooling. Bob doesn't want him home-schooled. He wants Harriet to leave him here, in Getaway Bay. That suggestion didn't go down well."
"No, I bet it didn't. What would she tell Owen?"
"That's exactly what she said."
Isaac leaned in closer. "And what did Bob say?"
"That it was time he had more to do with his son."
"And what did Harriet say?"
"Nothing. There was silence, and I figured I'd better leave. I felt bad for listening in on what was obviously a very private conversation. But all through dinner I kept going over it in my mind. It has a bearing on the case, doesn't it?"
