Thin Blood

by Vicki Tyley

  Standing so his back blocked the view of anyone who happened to pass on the street, he opened the yellow lid and peered in. He skewed the stack of newspapers to one side. He broke out in a cold sweat, his stomach lurching violently. In his mad panic to dig through the carton of plastic soft drink and water bottles underneath, he almost overturned the blue plastic wheelie bin. He even checked the green rubbish bin next to it, on the unlikely chance he had put it in there instead.

  He couldn’t believe it; the gun was gone.

  CHAPTER 41

  Hoping the fresh air might help revive her, Jacinta wound down the car window, sucking in lungfuls of the slightly damp air as she watched the front of the Edmonds house for signs of movement. Her head buzzed, the culmination of the last few weeks’ events threatening to overwhelm her. Perhaps Brett was right. Perhaps she should forget all about it and leave it to the police to deal with. If only it were that simple.

  Checking the time on her mobile phone again, she wondered what had possessed her to leave Narelle alone in the house with a psychiatric hospital absconder, even if it was her husband and it was only for ten minutes. Craig had been hospitalised for a reason, and although it was possible medical staff had deemed him well enough to return home, they certainly wouldn’t have discharged him in a half-dressed state in Sunday’s small hours.

  From her angle, she couldn’t see much of Brett except his back. He had the lid up on the blue bin and appeared to be rummaging through its contents. What was taking so long? Had he hidden the gun so well he was having trouble finding it? Thank God he'd had the strength of mind to remove it from the house when he had, she suddenly thought, imagining what might have happened if Craig had got his hands on it.

  A white van drove past without slowing, followed a few seconds later by a carload of teenage girls. Jacinta smiled to herself, remembering the days when she too used to have the stamina to party all night, arriving home as most people were waking. She was still reminiscing when a vehicle she hadn’t seen coming stopped behind her. Before she had a chance to look in the rear-view mirror, a police car pulled in front of her into the Edmonds’ driveway, cutting Brett off from view.

  A car door slammed behind her, and then another. Daniel’s broad frame loomed in the side-mirror. From the look on her stepbrother’s face, she knew he was less than pleased to see her. As uniformed officers piled out of the police car in the driveway and another parked at the kerb, he marched past without stopping, rapping the car roof above her head in brief acknowledgement of her presence. DS Renee White, walking down the footpath on the other side of the car, caught up with him as he and the other officers converged en masse on the Edmonds’ front door.

  Jacinta’s mind reeled, trying to take in what was happening. Why were the police there? Had someone called them? As Brett yanked open the passenger-side door, throwing himself bodily into the car, she realised Craig’s disappearance from the hospital wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. But why the need for so many officers?

  “Thanks a lot, Jacinta.” Brett sounded out of breath. “At least you could’ve waited until I was back in the car.”

  She shook her head at him. “I didn’t call them.”

  His flushed face paled. “This is no time for games.”

  “I swear I know nothing about it. Remember, you were the one intent on calling them, not me.”

  “Well, what the fuck are they doing here, then?” Brett’s throat constricted, the last words coming out in a squeak.

  “I don’t know.” Leaning in closer to him, she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Where’s the gun now?”

  Brett gulped, his eyes downcast like an errant schoolboy called to the headmaster’s office. “I don’t know.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Say that again,” she said, hoping she had misheard but knowing she hadn’t.

  “The gun’s gone. It’s not where I left it.”

  “Could it have become dislodged and fallen to the bottom?”

  “What do you think I was doing when the boys in blue rocked up?”

  Tapping her forehead with her steepled fingers, she tried to think. If the gun wasn’t there, it meant only one thing: Narelle had been right; someone had been staking out the house. But who? With no evidence to back her belief, Narelle had Grace, as Kirsty’s rejected lover, squarely in the frame for her murder, convincing herself that Grace had broken into her home to search for the revolver. But how long had Craig been outside the house before making his presence known? After all, the gun belonged to him.

  “God, Brett, this changes everything. We have no choice now but to tell the police.”

  He gave her a sheepish look. “We would’ve had to sooner or later, anyway.”

  “Later would have been preferable,” she murmured, more to herself than to Brett. All she could think about was Narelle, and to what extent she could protect her from the inevitable fallout of a police investigation. If it helped bring a killer to justice, clearing Narelle’s name in the process, it had to be worth the stress and aggravation.

  Brett cut through her thoughts. “Something’s happening,” he said, nodding at the house.

  The front door had opened. Escorted by two male, uniformed police officers, Craig Edmonds emerged and made his way across to the police car parked in the driveway. No longer half-naked, he wore a loose-fitting, blue and white striped shirt over his jeans, the cuffs rolled back. A pair of tan leather open sandals shod his feet.

  Up until that moment, he had been submissive, putting up no resistance as the officers guided him along the footpath. But as soon as he caught sight of Jacinta and Brett, all that changed. His eyes narrowed, his face becoming pinched as, struggling to escape his captors’ hold, he hurled abuse in their direction. Placing a hand on the top of his head, the two officers manhandled him into the backseat, closing the door with a resounding thud.

  Jacinta shivered, her arms wrapping tightly around herself. She found it hard to understand what Narelle saw in Craig. There had to be a side to the hostile, hot-tempered man Jacinta hadn’t yet seen.

  After the police car backed out and drove away, presumedly returning their backseat passenger to the hospital, Jacinta opened her car door and got out. Expecting to see the front door open at any moment, she took a couple of calming breaths, mentally preparing herself to face Daniel before realising that meant Narelle would be left on her own.

  Brett had opened his car door, remaining seated with one foot in the car and the other on the kerb. She walked around the front of the car to his side and stood facing him. “Narelle’s going to need someone with her. Can you talk to Daniel while I look after her?”

  Brett cringed, his face blanching.

  “Okay, I’ll talk to Daniel while you take care of Narelle, then,” she said, knowing that for Brett, a distressed, hormonal woman would be too much to contemplate.

  He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “What exactly should I tell him?”

  “Just tell him what’s happened. Blame me. I’m in that much trouble now, it doesn’t matter. What is important is that the gun is found before anyone gets hurt, or worse.”

  His face brightened a little. “Amen,” he replied, the tone of his voice adding: And about bloody time, too.

  Neither spoke as they returned to watching the Edmonds’ front door, waiting for Daniel and his team to leave the house.

  After what felt like hours but was undoubtedly only minutes, Brett voiced her own thoughts. “I wonder what the hold-up is?”

  Daniel appeared just as Jacinta was asking Brett to pass over her mobile phone. “Okay, guys, this had better be good,” he said, striding toward them.

  “Excuse me?” replied Jacinta, her hackles rising. “We have every right to be here. Narelle called us.”

  “And why did she call you?” asked Daniel, closing the gap between them.

  “What would you do if you were a pregnant woman all on your own in a large house and you heard noises in your backyard? More to the point, what are your
lot still doing here? We saw them take Craig away.”

  “Not that it’s really any of your business, but we’re executing a search warrant.” He turned to walk away. “Now please excuse me, I have work to do.”

  Struck dumb, she opened and closed her mouth, willing the words forth. “Wait!” she called, running after him. His step faltered, but he didn’t turn around. “Please, Daniel!”

  “Jacinta, I don’t have time for this now,” he said, as she drew level with him.

  “Just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll stay out of your way.”

  He groaned, stopped and turned to face her. “If it means you’ll leave me to get on with my job, I’ll tell you. You’ll find out sooner or later, anyway.” Gesturing for her to follow, he headed toward the garage, away from the house. Brett cut across the lawn, joining them at the corner of the garage near the wheelie bins.

  “We received an anonymous tip-off about firearms on the property. We don’t know how genuine it is, but until we can prove otherwise, we have to treat it seriously.”

  “Was it a man or a woman?”

  Daniel shook his head. “We don’t know. The voice was computer-generated.” He squinted first at Jacinta and then at Brett, his head leaning slightly to one side. “You two wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  Hooking his thumbs in his jean pockets, Brett studied his feet, leaving it up to Jacinta to answer.

  “Well,” she stammered, “we don’t know anything about any anonymous phone call, but…” She hesitated, fumbling for the right words. “But there is a gun. It was on the table when we arrived.” She wasn’t about to add she had known of its possible existence the day before.

  Daniel closed his eyes, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “And where is this gun now?” he asked, opening his eyes and fixing Jacinta with a steely glare.

  “I’ll… um… let Brett answer that,” she said, taking half a step back.

  Somehow Brett found his voice. He rushed his words, as if trying to offload his burden as quickly as possible. Starting from when he had been woken in the early hours by the phone ringing, he told Daniel everything that had happened that morning. When he reached the bit about Narelle accidentally discharging the loaded gun at the ceiling, Daniel cocked an eyebrow but stayed silent, allowing Brett to continue uninterrupted. The corner of Daniel’s mouth lifted in amusement at Brett’s account of the frightening appearance of a half-naked wild man at the window. Brett’s speech became faster, his words running together as they raced for the finishing line.

  He stopped, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “But I don’t understand who could have taken it. I was sure no one saw me.”

  “So, thanks to your efforts, we have a firearm – possibly a murder weapon – out there somewhere,” Daniel waved his hand through the air, “in God knows whose hands. If you had come to me in the first place, we could’ve avoided all this.”

  “It’s not Brett’s fault,” Jacinta said. “He thought he was doing the right thing. If you have to blame someone, blame me for getting involved in the first place. We were just trying to help a friend. We had no way of knowing what would happen.”

  Daniel tugged at his shirt collar with his index finger, scratching his neck. “Haven’t we had this conversation before? Jacinta, it’s not about blame. It’s not even a matter of interfering in a police investigation, which is bad enough. Don’t you understand what’s at stake? You could’ve been killed today. Dead’s dead, accident or not.” He paused. “Not only that, you’ve put others at risk.”

  Although his tone hadn’t been chastising, nor had he raised his voice, she felt the full force of his words. She accepted the rebuke, knowing it was justified. However, it was his underlying deep concern that really affected her. Her stepbrother cared whether she lived or died, and that meant a lot to her.

  Making no promises she couldn’t guarantee she could keep, but reminding him he had actually asked her at one stage to act as Narelle’s confidante, she apologised. Daniel brushed it aside, more intent on finding out how much more she and Brett knew.

  “I want you both to think carefully. Is there anyone you know of, or who you may have heard mentioned, who would know the Edmondses possessed a gun? The person who called it in knew about it long before you removed it from the house.”

  Folding his arms, Brett shook his head. “The first I knew about it was when I saw it on the table.”

  As Daniel went to say something, Brett talked over the top of him. “Maybe Narelle made the call herself.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would she dob herself in?” Jacinta asked.

  “Not herself, her husband. What better way to get rid of the gun without Craig realising his own wife had been responsible. Think about it, Jacinta. She makes an anonymous call to the police; she then phones you knowing you won’t hesitate to come. When we arrive, the gun is in plain view on the table. She doesn’t make any attempt to conceal it. She wanted the gun to be seen.”

  “But why would she do that?” Jacinta couldn’t believe Narelle could be that scheming.

  “Because, after all these years, she’s suddenly having doubts about her husband’s innocence,” Daniel said under his breath. “She wanted to find out one way or the other if the gun had been used as a murder weapon.”

  “You’re both wrong.” Even as she said the words, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was any element of truth in what they were suggesting. How well did she know Narelle? Regardless, the idea their friendship could have been nothing more than some elaborate ruse didn’t sit well with her. I’m a much better judge of character than that, she thought. “What about Grace Kevron? She’s had it in for Narelle and Craig ever since Kirsty disappeared.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but Grace has a rock-solid alibi for this morning. Although not for the time of the phone call.”

  “What do you mean? Where is she?”

  “I’m not going to go into the ins and outs of it, but suffice to say, she couldn’t be in two places at one time.”

  Daniel refused to be drawn any further on the subject, leaving Jacinta to speculate on how he could be so confident of Grace’s whereabouts. If the police were involved, she had to have either committed a crime or been the victim of a crime. But then again, police also attended vehicle accidents. Perhaps Grace had been injured and been rushed to hospital.

  “You have Grace under surveillance.” It was a statement, not a question. Jacinta didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

  Daniel shook his head. “What’s with all the surveillance theories? You thought we were watching Narelle Edmonds, too. We’re not a police state. Even if we wanted to, we just don’t have the resources to monitor—” He stopped talking as something behind Jacinta distracted his attention.

  Turning, she saw DS Renee White heading their way, the top edges of a couple of plastic bags gripped in her latex-gloved hands. Daniel immediately broke away, intercepting his sergeant before she reached the driveway. Scurrying after him, Jacinta managed to catch a quick glimpse of what appeared to be a photograph in one of the bags, before Daniel whipped both bags out of sight.

  “Jacinta, this really doesn’t concern you,” he said, holding the bags behind his back. “Go home.”

  Not being privy to the police investigation didn’t mean she had no reason to be there. “What about Narelle?”

  “What about her?”

  “Police are crawling all over her home. Isn’t she at least entitled to have someone with her? You’ve already carted her husband off.”

  A look of exasperation passed between the two detectives. Jacinta waited, confident in the knowledge they couldn’t reasonably refuse her request. But before that could happen, a young uniformed officer flew out the front door and down the steps toward them.

  “Mrs Edmonds has collapsed.” He slowed to a trot, gulping air. “We’ve called an ambulance,” he added, as Daniel strode past him back into the house.

  Ang
ry that Narelle had been pushed to the point of collapse, Jacinta tried to go her friend’s aid, but DS White barred her way.

  “She is being looked after. Please wait outside.”

  Jacinta wanted to tell her where to shove it, but thought better of it. Although Narelle was ill and alone with a bunch of strangers, the same strangers who had been systematically ransacking her home, causing a scene could only further distress her.

  CHAPTER 42

  It was still dark when Detective Inspector Daniel Lassiter arrived at work on Monday morning. Unable to sleep, he had tossed and turned for the best part of the night, mumbled groans from Wendy’s side of the bed finally prompting him to get up. He dressed in the dark, and by the time he leaned over to kiss his wife goodbye, she was snoring gently.

  Once under the station’s fluorescent lights, he used the mirror in the men’s toilets to check his appearance. He ran a hand over his unshaven face, wondering briefly if he could get away with it. Then he glanced at his feet, lifting the legs of his trousers to reveal matching black socks. Relieved he had that right at least, he went to get his toilet bag.

  Having finished his ablutions, he spent the next half-hour restlessly roaming the deserted corridors, a mug of double-strength instant coffee clutched in his hands. No phones rang, the low hum of the air-conditioners the only sound. A faint hint of curry — someone’s takeaway dinner from the night before, no doubt — lingered in the air.

  He walked past the Major Incident room’s closed door twice before deciding that was where he should be. Stepping into the windowless room, he flicked the light switch on the wall just inside the door. The resulting burst of light reflecting off the shiny surface of the large mobile whiteboard acted like an exploding flashbulb, temporarily blinding him. He blinked, bringing the room into focus.