The Long Game

by Simon Rowell

  ‘Hey there, gorgeous,’ she whispered softly.

  Harry lifted his head, his mouth falling open into an easy smile.

  ‘Hey there, yourself,’ said Tom sleepily from the other side of the bed. He yawned and rolled towards her.

  Zoe smiled, still looking at Harry. ‘How’d you sleep?’ she asked, before turning to Tom and kissing him.

  ‘Good. You?’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ she said. It had been another warm night and she felt drained after her first week back at work. Zoe clambered out of bed and walked into the bathroom. She stepped into the shower, swung the mixer tap to cold and pulled it towards her. She shuddered as the water hit her body.

  Afterwards, as she dried herself, Harry sat in the doorway to the bathroom. She couldn’t stop thinking about the tapes, wishing it was already Monday and that she had an answer from Rebecca. She decided not to wait: she would go back down the peninsula and speak to Greg Enders. Zoe wanted to look him in the eye and convince herself he wasn’t the same guy as the other two mourners. She knew that being wrong about her own theory was the best-case scenario. If she was right, there would be big ramifications for the squad, and for her.

  She considered calling Charlie to let him know her plans, but decided to keep him out of it. At least until she knew one way or the other. Besides, he would be watching his son play cricket.

  ‘How do you feel about a trip to the beach?’ Harry jumped to his feet and spun in a circle.

  ‘You talking to me or Harry?’ Tom called from the bedroom.

  ‘Um, both,’ lied Zoe, her tone coy. ‘I’m heading down the peninsula to check something out.’

  ‘I’m guessing you were talking to Harry then,’ Tom said, laughing. ‘My place is overdue for a clean anyway.’

  ‘No worries,’ she said through the doorway, smiling down at Harry.

  ‘Hey, isn’t this a day off?’ asked Tom.

  ‘Yes, but there are some loose ends that need tying,’ she said.

  ‘Say hello to Charlie for me,’ he called out.

  ‘Will do,’ she lied, staring at the bathroom mirror. She went into the walk-in robe and pushed a pair of shoes aside. She knelt down, lifted a small rug and placed her thumb against the fingerprint reader on her gun safe. Hearing the bolt click, she turned the handle.

  Around eleven, her Ford Escape rolled into Rye. The weather was milder and more people were out, sitting outside cafes or walking their dogs. Zoe pulled up outside Greg Enders’ house, leaving all the windows down. ‘Wait here a second,’ she said over her shoulder to Harry, who was ready to jump out.

  Zoe felt different from the last time that she and Charlie were here. Lighter, freer. T-shirt and jeans suited her just fine. Maybe, she thought, working the Drug Squad or Organised Crime would be okay if she could dress this way every day. Zoe had her Victoria Police lanyard around her neck, so the locals wouldn’t baulk at her Smith & Wesson M&P holstered in full view on her hip.

  There was no car in the driveway. Zoe knocked on the door, tilting her head to listen for movement inside. She heard nothing. The curtains were slightly open, and she peered inside. The room was bare. She jogged to the window on the other side of the house and peeked in. Also empty. Zoe’s gut tightened.

  She looked behind her at her car. Harry was happily watching through the open window. Walking around to the side of the house, she called out, ‘Police. Anyone home?’

  There was no response. She went around to the back of the house. The room where she and Charlie had sat on Tuesday was empty. Shit.

  Zoe retraced her steps. A woman, perhaps around seventy and wearing a flowery sun dress, was standing on the footpath and squinting down the driveway.

  ‘Everything all right?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Zoe. ‘Do you know the resident of this house?’

  ‘I do, it’s Greg something…Let me think, he did tell me…’

  ‘Have you seen him recently?’

  ‘He moved out yesterday. There was a white van here in the morning and he was loading stuff into it. When I stopped by around lunchtime, he was gone. He seemed like a nice man…Is something wrong?’

  ‘No. I just needed to clear things up with him. Do you have any idea where he’s moved to?’

  ‘Not a clue, sorry.’

  ‘You don’t happen to know which real estate agent was renting the house out, do you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s Reagan Real Estate, up on the main road. They had their sign out before Greg moved in.’

  ‘Thanks, that’s very helpful.’

  Zoe walked across the yard and tried the other neighbour, who didn’t know Greg and hadn’t realised that he had moved out.

  Zoe got back in the car, and called the mobile number she had for Greg. A message told her that the number was disconnected. She drove into the main street of Rye, where she found the Reagan office. It was located in a shopping strip, between a pharmacy and a fish and chip shop. The smell of fried food was heavy in the air. Zoe and Harry walked into the office. It was a large open space, with three offices along the back wall. A young woman stood behind the counter, leaning over a computer, engrossed. She was about twenty, with long blonde hair that fell over the back of a blazer that was a size too big for her. After a moment, she looked up, first eyeing Harry, before she saw Zoe’s gun at her waist.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Zoe Mayer.’ She held up her badge. ‘I am looking for information on one of your renters.’

  ‘Yes, I can help. I’m Helen, the property manager here. Who’s the renter?’

  ‘Greg Enders. Moved out yesterday apparently.’

  ‘Yes, he dropped the key back in the afternoon. I was going to head down there this afternoon to make sure it’s been properly cleaned. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Do you have information on Greg from when he first rented the property? Former address? Driver’s licence? That sort of thing.’

  ‘Yes, sure.’ Helen spun on her chair, got up and walked to a filing cabinet. She pulled out a thin file and came around to Zoe’s side of the counter. She opened up the file. A photocopy of Greg Enders’ licence showed his photo and former address in Mount Eliza.

  ‘I remember him coming in to apply for the house. His hands were all bandaged up from some sort of accident. I had to fill in the form for him. He had trouble even signing his name at the bottom,’ she said.

  Zoe looked down at the scrawled signature that appeared to have been done by a four-year-old. No fingerprints on the form. Very clever.

  ‘Can I get a copy of this? Any other ID?’

  ‘I can give you a copy. No other ID. We did a reference check, though.’ She flicked through some pages. ‘Doug Jones, his former landlord. His number is here.’

  Zoe dialled and got a message saying that the number was no longer in service.

  ‘How did he pay for the lease? Card or bank transfer?’

  ‘Cash. Six months up front. First time that’s ever happened to me. The owner was really happy.’

  ‘Did he drop the keys in himself yesterday when he left?’

  ‘Yes, in an envelope.’

  ‘Do you still have the envelope?’

  ‘No, he did give it to me, but then asked for it back as he needed it to make a shopping list or something.’

  ‘But you have the keys here?’

  Helen pointed down at a set of keys sitting on her desk. ‘Had them out to remind me to go check the place over.’

  Zoe reached over the counter, picking up the key ring with her pen. As she brought them closer, Zoe was hit with the smell of bleach.

  The young woman noticed Zoe wince. ‘He said he’d dropped them in the sink when he was cleaning the place. Is he a criminal or something?’

  ‘No, he may be a witness. Did he leave a forwarding address?’

  ‘No, sorry.’

  ‘Any chance I can have a look inside the house?’

  The woman looked at the clock on the wall showing 11.50 am. ‘I’m closing up at midday. I can meet you do
wn there if you like.’

  The smell of bleach overwhelmed them at once. The house had been meticulously cleaned. Zoe checked the bathroom for hairs, without success. The kitchen counters and cupboards all had streaks across them from being scrubbed. The wheelie bins outside were empty. Zoe could see streak marks on them too.

  She contemplated calling Forensics to get them to sweep the place, but stopped herself. Against what job would they put their time? Every hour was accountable nowadays, logged a few different ways. Her instinct said that it was pointless. Greg had cleaned every surface. Plus, they hadn’t pulled any DNA from Ray Carlson’s crime scene to compare against anyway.

  Zoe drove the short distance to Katie Harley’s house and parked in the driveway. As she got out of the car, a teenage girl opened the front door and slouched against it, trying out a tougher version of herself. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I would like to speak to your mother,’ said Zoe.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Mum. Cops are here again,’ she called out, walking inside. Zoe opened up the back and Harry jumped down.

  Katie Harley walked to the front door. ‘No need to let the whole street know, Marie. What can I do for you, detective?’

  ‘I wanted to have a chat. Do you have a moment? Maybe outside would be best,’ said Zoe, looking over Katie’s shoulder. Zoe wanted to talk outside so she could be closer to Harry, who was sitting in the shade near the car, but was happy to let Katie think it had to do with her privacy.

  ‘Sure,’ Katie said wearily, shutting the door behind her. They walked down onto the grass, under a large elm.

  ‘What do you know about Greg Enders?’

  ‘Greg? He’s a mate of Dwayne and Ray’s. He’s a bit disabled. Not sure if that’s the proper term for it nowadays, probably not. He got hurt at work and his neck and back are stuffed. Nice guy though.’

  ‘How long have you known him?’

  ‘Six, maybe seven months. Not too long.’

  ‘How did you meet?’

  ‘Dwayne met him, at the footy club at Sorrento, I’d say. That was Dwayne’s regular. He played there for years. Why are you interested?’

  ‘Do you know where Greg is now?’

  ‘No idea. At home I presume. He doesn’t work…His neck, you know.’

  ‘He’s not there. He’s moved out. The house is empty.’

  Katie frowned. ‘He never said anything about moving. Then again, with everything that’s been happening, it may have passed me by…Your people were here all afternoon yesterday. Didn’t leave until after nine last night. Dug up most of the backyard, they did.’

  Zoe didn’t want to get sidetracked by Dwayne’s drug charges. ‘What’s your impression of him?’ she asked.

  ‘Greg? You think he’s got something to do with what happened to Ray?’

  ‘No, we just have to finalise his statement and he didn’t mention he was moving. All normal stuff. So, your impression of him?’

  ‘Always friendly, upbeat. Generous, too. He got free tickets to the Grand Final and took Ray and Dwayne. Won a raffle for a boat charter and took a load of the guys out for the day. That sort of thing.’

  ‘And the movies,’ called Marie, who was apparently eavesdropping from behind the screen door. ‘He gave us a USB with heaps of freebies.’

  Zoe glanced towards the house before focusing again on Katie. ‘I’m not really worried just now about him pirating movies. Do you know if he had family?’

  ‘No, we never got into that sort of stuff. I never asked him.’

  ‘Any other close friends?’

  ‘Wouldn’t know. He came around here a few times with Ray, but I didn’t see him with other people. Dwayne would catch up with him at the footy club. I guess Greg would’ve known other people there.’

  ‘Okay, thanks for your time, Katie.’

  ‘No problem. Any news on Dwayne? He hasn’t called us.’

  ‘He’s been charged with murder and remanded. Plus, you know he’s been charged with meth production. What news were you expecting?’

  Katie’s face creased. ‘I thought he might get bail, that’s all.’

  Zoe didn’t know how to respond. You’ve got a serious dose of privilege going on there.

  ‘He’ll be remanded until the trials are finished. Sorry,’ Zoe said, immediately regretting apologising.

  ‘I guess it’s all real, then. Keep thinking I’ll wake up.’

  ‘Someone will keep you informed.’

  ‘Great. Thanks very much,’ Marie called out from the background, her voice laden with sarcasm.

  Three hours later, after visits to the footy club and the pub, Zoe and Harry were at Sorrento Beach, facing the bay. Despite the heat, Zoe wore a light rain jacket so that her holstered gun would not be visible to the public. She had Harry on a lead as the sand was packed with people. They walked a fair way along the sand before the crowds thinned, and she let him free. He ran into the water, jumping the waves with joy. Zoe took off her shoes and felt the warm, white sand squeak between her toes.

  At the pub and the club, everyone had a similar story. An old Italian fellow named Serge told her how Greg Enders was a top bloke and would do anything for anyone. Others said similar things. Only been around for six months. No one knew anything about his background or family. No one knew he was moving house.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Tom.

  ‘Hey,’ Zoe said.

  ‘Hi, where are you?’

  ‘At the beach. Watching Harry learn to bodysurf.’

  ‘There’s something we need to discuss,’ he said. Tom sounded unsettled, unlike his usual unflappable self.

  ‘Sounds scary. Everything okay?’

  ‘Yeah, not really…Sally found out that we’ve been dating.’

  Zoe laughed. ‘What? It’s eighteen years since you two broke up.’

  ‘True, but the way she just went off at me on the phone, you’d think we broke up two weeks ago.’

  ‘She called you? I would have thought her more an angry-email type of person.’

  ‘I wish. She chewed my ear off about how she knew that I liked you back when we were dating. That I was just a typical man, yada, yada. She was relentless.’

  ‘Sounds juvenile. Well, that’s going to make life interesting for both of us,’ said Zoe.

  ‘More interesting for me than you, I’d reckon,’ he said. ‘I’m the one going up against her in court. She needs Homicide on her side when she’s prosecuting cases. I’m just the enemy defence lawyer.’

  ‘Sounds about right,’ said Zoe. ‘Anyway, there’s not much we can do about it. Unless you want to break up?’

  Tom laughed. ‘Yeah right. It took me eighteen years to get together with you. I’m not walking away now.’

  ‘So, you were keen back at uni after all?’ asked Zoe, smiling.

  ‘No comment. How good is Harry at bodysurfing?’

  ‘Nice way to change the subject.’ Harry was now trotting along the beach towards her. ‘He’s a quick learner. So, what are you going to do about Sally?’

  ‘She’s always been suspicious of people and doesn’t give up easily…or ever, actually. She still thinks you spread the rumour at uni about her stripping up in Canberra.’

  Zoe felt her neck tighten. ‘Two things—she was stripping and it wasn’t me who started the rumour.’

  ‘Yeah, I know that’s true, but we also both know what she’s like. She never gives up on these things,’ said Tom. ‘Dinner?’

  Zoe exhaled. ‘Sure, I’ll call you when I’m heading back into the city.’

  Harry walked up beside Zoe and started shaking himself dry.

  ‘Thanks very much,’ said Zoe, wiping the salty water from her face.

  6 AM, SUNDAY 9 FEBRUARY

  They lay facing each other, Tom tracing a finger along the contours of Zoe’s body. The ceiling fan whirred above them, cooling the heat of their skin. As they stared into each other’s eyes, Zoe leaned towards Tom, kissing him softly at first, and then with passion. Tom st
arted to slide his way down the bed, and Zoe felt a rush as she held Tom’s head. She could smell sandalwood drifting in through the window. An old hippie couple had settled next door after years in India. Their golden days, they called them. The scent of the incense made her feel like she was somewhere exotic with a holiday lover eager to please her. She glanced towards Harry, curled up in his bed, as if sleeping. Zoe could see that he had one eye half open, watching her.

  She pulled Tom back up towards her, and kissed him again. She pushed him onto his back and climbed on top. Using her hand, she guided him into her. Tom held her hips as she rode him, gently at first, then faster, shuddering with pleasure. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, rocking her hips slower and slower, letting the vibrations subside.

  ‘You’re a fine stallion,’ she said with a teasing smile.

  ‘I love you.’

  Zoe’s heart skipped. Tom had never said it. She looked into his eyes, knowing this was a special moment. ‘I love you too.’

  Zoe had spent the night waking every hour or so, thinking about either Greg Enders or Charlie and Rob talking behind her back. Zoe felt both frustrated and betrayed, but most of all worried. She needed to get to the right result, the truth, and fast. She’d tried everything to get some solid sleep, imagining the sound of waves crashing, counting imaginary sheep, even breathing in unison with Tom and Harry when they fell into sync. Nothing had worked. Now, she realised that the last half an hour may have been just what she needed all along.

  She rolled off Tom, walking into the ensuite to take a shower. As soon as the cool water hit her body she felt herself jolted back into work mode. When she came back out, Tom was fast asleep again. She put on her jeans and a clean white t-shirt, and walked Harry at the park nearby. Back at the house, she gave Harry his breakfast and made two coffees and toast.

  ‘Smells good,’ said Tom, stretching in the doorway to the bedroom. ‘Thought you would have taken the opportunity to lie in.’

  ‘Thinking about the case. Lots of moving parts.’

  Tom noticed Zoe’s holster on the table.