Lyndall sat for a moment, biting her bottom lip. She needed to explain more clearly her interaction with the Janvier family.
‘If I had known about the Janviers when the children were younger I would certainly have taken some action, probably informed social services. But I didn’t meet even Dominic until he was in his early teens and by the time I realised how very odd the Janviers are – or were – the boys had both left. There didn’t seem to be any physical danger to the boys or to anyone else and Michel would only see me occasionally, so I have confined my care to trying to give him some insight into his situation, with almost no success. What’s recommended for treating folie à deux is separating the two subjects, and neither of them would agree to that.’
‘How did they treat their children when they were still at home?’ asked Cass.
‘As the boys grew older Michel did become quite concerned about her treatment of Dominic. Often he’d come home and find Dominic tied to a chair or table because he’d been “bad”. Michel would want to untie him and Odile would start screaming that it was up to her to control the boy, she was the one stuck with him all day. Michel seems to have retreated from all these encounters.
‘When Dominic was about ten or eleven Odile found a part-time job – I’m not sure how that came about. She was working in the office of the Tropical Palms Hotel which was built by Jim Hewitt, who as you may know is a big developer and businessman in Cairns. She had a kind of receptionist job in Jim’s office.
‘Looking like she did, it was not surprising that she came to Jim’s attention quite soon, and it wasn’t long before she was having an affair with him. That was how Odile first learnt that people go to those cheap motels in Earlville for quick sex. Jim was a regular. But Odile, although she looked like a chic and sophisticated Frenchwoman, was really just a rather simple girl from the provinces, although a fairly nasty one. As the affair went on she became convinced that Jim was mad about her and would leave his wife for her. Her dream of being the wife of a rich and powerful man would come true. So when Michel found out about it she packed a bag and went and threw herself at Jim’s feet. He was absolutely horrified; Jim had no intention of leaving his wife.
‘Odile threatened to tell his wife about the affair. Jim apparently didn’t feel too worried by this. No doubt his wife had seen it all before and decided to live with it, after all she was and is being maintained in the style to which Odile aspired. Nevertheless, Jim didn’t really want a scene so he offered Odile some money – I’ve no idea how much – to finish the affair and stay quiet about it.
‘Odile had nowhere to go but back home to Michel. She taunted him with the money, which she said was payment for her quitting the job, which of course she also did. He was very distraught about the whole thing, grovelled at her feet, and welcomed her back. She meanwhile began to realise that she could exert a particular kind of power over men, including her husband, and use it – this was both part of her basic personality, and part of her growing delusional state.
‘The most distressing thing for Michel was that Jim took a fancy to one of Odile’s scarves. He insisted that she wear it to her meetings with him, and in fact wear it throughout their encounters, while removing every other stitch of clothing. Michel at this time took that particular scarf from her and began to carry it with him. When I talked to Michel about why he thought he’d done this he said he felt that if he had it with him at all times then she wouldn’t cheat again. At the same time he did realise this wasn’t going to happen. He has a little insight into both his masochism and his fetishism, but no power, or indeed wish, to stop either of them.
‘Not surprisingly, Odile didn’t change either. I think she’s had other affairs, but Michel has always been very circumspect about who they are and frankly I’ve never been very interested in Odile’s life. Possibly some of them are doctors. As both Michel and Dominic told me, Odile is obsessed with doctors – well, she’s obsessed with men whom she sees as powerful in our society. She feels she was owed a doctor, she should have been a doctor’s wife in France, and instead she’s married to a nobody who drifts from job to job in Australia. I’ve never really understood what work Michel does but he must be making some money if he’s paying for Odile’s wardrobe.’
‘You’ve said that he used to be able to have sex normally – well, somewhat normally?’
‘I think it’s been many years since the Janviers had vanilla sex,’ answered Lyndall. Then, seeing Cass’s bemusement, she added: ‘Vanilla sex is, well, a wide range of behaviours, but what I, you, well, at least, many people, would call normal sex. Not including bondage or S&M or D, etcetera, although many people do happily use elements of those within their normal sexual behaviours as I’m sure you understand.’ Cass nodded and Lyndall flushed slightly as she recalled a few things she and Bernard had recently done together.
‘We did find some soft porn in his shed at Earlville,’ Cass said. ‘The kind you can get in newsagents.’
‘He probably wasn’t much interested in it really,’ Lyndall said. ‘Probably just taking a look at what’s available.’
‘In regard to what you said about him not being capable of killing her,’ Cass asked, ‘could he be provoked by some behaviour of hers though? Like, if she had another affair?’
‘Well in fact that’s tended to excite him, the psychological pain she’s inflicted. As I said I think she has had other affairs over the years.’
‘But do – did – the Janviers live sort of normal lives in between all this?’ Cass asked. ‘Eat? Shop? Watch television? From what we’ve been able to gather they’ve lived for years in Cairns but with very little real contact with anyone else.’
‘Yes, that doesn’t surprise me. I think the Janviers had always lived quite isolated lives even when their children were younger, school-age, and they had to interact to some extent with the rest of the community. She grew up in a small town and never spent any time in Paris. Her family probably suffered some isolation too because of her grandfather’s Nazi connections.
‘One thing Michel did, which might have some relevance, is bushwalk. I’m sure he knew the area around Davies Creek very well. I think years ago when he first came to Cairns he had some connection with a bushwalking group. Then there was some falling-out with them, and he began to take solitary walks, long ones, several days. Up Bartle Frere – you know where that is? And the Pyramid?’
‘Yes – that’s the Pyramid right out the window there,’ Cass said. ‘And we’ve heard from the bushwalkers, although none of them had seen him recently.’ She was a bit disconcerted to find that Michel Janvier, whom she found increasingly creepy, had climbed her personal mountain. But the information was interesting. There was bushwalking gear in the shed at Earlville, and in the room where Michel kept his clothes, she told Lyndall.
‘I seem to remember that Michel took his sons bushwalking when they were younger,’ said Lyndall. ‘I think Dominic told me that. It was one of the few good things he told me about his childhood.’
‘Their mother didn’t go with them?’
‘Absolutely not. Can you imagine Odile Janvier in walking gear – well, I guess you never saw her alive. Anyway, out in the bush I think the three of them got away from her for a while.
‘How I would sum Michel up,’ Lyndall continued, ‘is initially as a rather reserved, solitary man who was dominated by his father, didn’t succeed with the conventional things – school, business and so on. Made a disastrous marriage from which for various reasons he was unable to escape. Reacted by developing the masochistic side of his personality and his fetish and eventually became quite delusional and dependent in his relationship with his wife. Weird – but no more so than a lot of people I meet.’
She paused, then said: ‘I did know Dominic quite well at the time I saw him for the Children’s Court. And Dominic is surprisingly grounded, even if he’s got an impressive criminal record.’
‘Was Odile ever reported to DOCS? For tying up her son?’ Cass felt sick in
her stomach just thinking about this. She remembered Jordon at two and three, chubby and adorable. Temper tantrums, sure, he had those. But tying him up to punish him for them? She couldn’t even imagine it.
‘No, she was never reported to DOCS because Michel was the only adult who knew about it at the time.
‘Dominic’s reaction, as he grew up, was to spend as much time as he could away from home. He made friends and kept them but he also shoplifted to get things, mostly sweets when he was younger, to buy friendship. He was very good at it. He was never caught. Then as he grew older he began to use drugs. Use drugs, as in smoke cannabis, but also use them to gain friends. He was dealing, but he was informed on when he got on other people’s patches.’
‘He was kicked out of schools for drugs,’ Cass said.
‘He was, several times. Not surprising. Neither of his parents had much interest in what he did at school. He’s quite bright and in a way quite self-disciplined. He’s very computer-savvy and would spend a lot of time on PlayStation when I knew him. He had the money to buy what he wanted in the way of games. He’d often cut school and hang out in internet cafes, when he was fourteen and fifteen. Then when he was about fifteen he just stopped going to school. Stayed in Cairns until Damian could leave as well and then they just left home, left Cairns. Went to Sydney, I think. Eventually the law caught up with him. But Damian seems to have managed to escape that path. He never contacts – contacted – his mother but he did very rarely contact Michel. Michel told me he had gone back to TAFE and finished school, and then done something in hospitality. And then got a job, quite a good one.’
Cass nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘we’ve been in touch with him. In fact we’re expecting him to come in tomorrow. He lives outside of Hobart. But he’s said he’ll come up to deal with arrangements for his mother. Obviously Dominic can’t come. And of course, the disappearance of their father is all over the news.’
‘You’ve really no idea what’s happened to Michel?’
‘Well – there’s a possibility his car’s been found. Just this morning. That’s where my boss has gone right now. We’re not sure yet. Do you think Dominic could have arranged for someone to kill his parents?’
Lyndall considered this. ‘What would be the point? Money? There’d be some, I suppose, but only if their house was sold. Revenge? Again possibly, but why now? I’ve always felt that Dominic waited until he and Damian were old enough to get shot of their parents, and then he just wanted the whole family thing behind him. I can’t say that he wasn’t involved in his mother’s death, because I haven’t laid eyes on him in years, but I think there would have to have been some development, some motive. Maybe if Damian needed money. But I’d be speculating.’
‘Yes,’ said Cass, ‘we’ve been doing that here too.’
‘Is it possible,’ asked Lyndall, ‘that there’s someone else who knows about the scarves?’
‘Well,’ said Cass, ‘yes. There is.’ She liked this woman; she now must be frank with her. It was also likely to lead to more information about the Janviers. ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t been completely up-front with you so far. That’s partly because there’s a lot of information that we’re trying to sort out the significance of. But it’s also because I wanted to hear what you had to say about Michel Janvier from your own perspective.
‘There is some evidence that Michel was at the site at some time.’ Or, she thought to herself, someone who smoked his brand of cigarettes. It was about 60 per cent certain that the butts were Philip Morris, the lab had reported.
‘But it also turns out we have other suspects. Lots of suspects. We’re not even sure how many yet; we’re still counting. All of them with good reason to feel negative about Odile Janvier and Hermès scarves.’
Lyndall gazed at Cass across the desk, trying to comprehend what she was being told.
‘You have lots of suspects,’ she repeated Cass’s words. ‘Men who might have killed Odile Janvier? Men who were involved with her? Lots?’
‘It seems so. There’s much we’ve yet to uncover. And of course quite a bit that I can’t tell you. But as someone with an insight into Michel Janvier, and also it seems the dead woman herself, you may be able to help us get to the bottom of this.
‘It seems that Odile, over a period of years – ten or more – enticed men into having sex with her. She then engaged in some kind of affair with each of them. Most she met in motels around the town. In those motels, and in other places, she secretly filmed what went on between them, possibly with the help of her husband. All these men were chosen carefully. Many of them are doctors. Odile Janvier had been their patient; she contrived reasons to go to them. Others are businessmen in the town. All these men were blackmailed. They were shown copies of what had been filmed and threatened with exposure if they didn’t pay. They are relatively wealthy and all had a lot to lose. They didn’t know who was threatening them and they were quite afraid of Odile herself. So they paid. And paid. None of them felt able to come to the police – well, in a town this size it would have been hard to keep a lid on the story.’
For several minutes Lyndall sat looking at Cass, taking in what she’d just heard. Blackmail. It certainly fitted with the early part of the Janvier story. So she just hadn’t picked up on what Michel – or was it mostly Odile? – had graduated to. It certainly explained why Michel seemed never to have a job yet was able to maintain his wife in style. And – doctors? Which doctors? Specialists? GPs? My God – she thought, could one have been Trevor? But she couldn’t bring herself to ask Cass that.
‘So,’ she asked finally, ‘you think that among these men might be one who decided to kill her?’
‘Well it’s definitely something we are working through. There is a time frame in which the death most likely occurred, according to the pathologist, and we’ll be asking each of those men to account for where they were in that time. Plus other investigations, obviously.’
Well, thought Lyndall, whatever else has happened, Trevor didn’t kill her. Dominic might have a good alibi but Trevor had a better one.
‘The Hermès scarves,’ she asked Cass, ‘she used those when she was with these other men?’
‘In all the videos that we’ve seen so far, yes she did. And I can tell you that none of us, none of the guys, is enjoying having to sit through this stuff. We’re taking it in shifts so that it’s not too sickening. How film censors get through their days I don’t know. I’ve had to see some weird stuff in my time in the force but this is up there with the weirdest.’
‘I think,’ said Lyndall slowly, ‘that although there’s the money, there’s probably another aspect to it. And that is that Michel was partly turned on, but more than that, taunted, by seeing this material. Involving his wife, who he wants to hurt him, having sex with other men using the scarf. That’s a really cruel but clever thing to do. I think there’s probably a combination of reasons that led to them doing this. For her, there’s the power involved. She’s obsessed with doctors, but she also hates them. Especially gynaecologists.’ Suddenly there flashed across her mind the thought of Henry. Surely Henry couldn’t be involved. No. That wasn’t possible. He was far too sensible and charming. Then she remembered Henry’s expression when she’d told him she was worried that Trevor might have had sex with patients. So maybe he was involved? But she didn’t want to ask Cass this either.
Lyndall said: ‘So first she gets power over them with sex. I’m quite sure her main motive was power not sexual pleasure. And then she just dangles them along, extracting delightful sums of money. I’m quite sure, the more I think about it, that Odile dreamt this up. She had so much to gain from it. And she could use it to taunt Michel. Endlessly.’
‘Yes,’ said Cass. ‘I’m beginning to understand it all now.’
Drew got back from Innisfail late on Friday afternoon.
‘Needless to say,’ he told his assembled team, ‘I didn’t find Michel Janvier down there. But I did find the Mitsubishi.
It’s definitel
y his vehicle. In the possession of a certain Danno Murphy.’
Danno had been happy to help with police inquiries, particularly if it meant steering himself away from a murder charge. He stuck to his story of borrowing the vehicle from a mate in Mareeba.
‘And it may well be true,’ said Drew. ‘The mate is Bugsy.’
There were grunts of recognition from around the room. Bugsy and Sam Gecko were both well-known dealers who worked together on the Tablelands. Mostly with cannabis.
‘There’d obviously been a lot of weed in the car very recently. Danno got noted by the traffic boys. He realised it and turned off the highway and went home as quick as he could. Probably to dump a stash which he was going to take up to Bugsy. All in a day’s work. Why else would he have Bugsy’s car? Innisfail are checking that out. Probably going to take a little trip as well, along that road beyond Danno’s place into the forest. They can handle all that.
‘Meanwhile I’ve got Mareeba looking for Bugsy. And Sam Gecko as well, the two of them hang out together. So far they haven’t been located. But we’ll be very interested to know just how Bugsy got that car.’
Cass filled Drew in on her interview with Lyndall Symonds.
‘I think we might ask her to come in and meet Damian Janvier tomorrow too,’ he said, when he’d heard Lyndall’s version of Michel’s history.
‘I’ll give her a call,’ said Cass. ‘She said she’s happy to help us. And talking of doctors, there’s a Dr Mellish wants to talk to the Inspector. Said he’s got to speak to the boss. None of us would do. He’s coming in at ten tomorrow morning. After Damian.’
‘There’s a USB stick with Mellish’s name on sitting on the desk over there,’ Troy told Drew. ‘We decided to leave that one specially for the boss.’
Cairns, 5 March 2011
As Cass had predicted, Lyndall had been happy to be present for the interview with Damian Janvier. Hobart police had already sent through Damian’s full account of his whereabouts for the last days of January, which they had verified. He was with his girlfriend Katie, at her parents’ farm outside Hobart for the nights of Monday 24 January and Monday 31 January. Her parents said he was there. Every other night since New Year, he’d been at work in a restaurant whose owner had nothing but praise for him. His girlfriend vouched for him being with her but so did several friends who saw him throughout that time.
Double Madness Page 18
