Josh had the saline running in within seconds. He pulled out his mobile to call his base.
‘Karen,’ he said, ‘we’re here. He’s alive but not well. Leg injuries, maybe spine, several days old at least. Pyrexia and pneumonia, the doctor suspects. I’ve got a line in with some fluids. We’ll need splints, a stretcher, a couple more guys. He can be winched up from where he is I think.’
‘Crowds are coming,’ he told Lyndall when he’d finished the call. ‘My people, and probably even more of Cass’s people.’
The man on the ground gave another grunt and Lyndall squatted next to him again.
‘Michel,’ she said, ‘it’s Lyndall, Dr Symonds. We’re going to get you out of here and to the hospital.’ He grunted again and this time she understood what he said.
‘Odile.’
No, she thought, I’m not saying one word about Odile. Not right now.
‘Michel,’ she said firmly. ‘We’re just working on getting you out of here. Soon. Everything else can wait.’
‘We didn’t have to wait long until we heard the chopper returning,’ she told Cass as she sat at her bedside, sipping Leslie’s favourite Scotch. ‘There wasn’t much more we could do for him until they arrived. They brought a stretcher and two more paramedics, and winched him up. It was very efficient. Drew was with them. And two uniformed men.’
‘Scenes-of-crime officers,’ said Cass. ‘Although is it actually a scene of a crime, do you think?’
‘There were quite a few things on the ground,’ Lyndall said. ‘He had a backpack and a knife. And there were empty ampoules of ketamine and a syringe. He must have given himself some. Two mobile phones. Empty biscuit packets. A water bottle. And – maybe you’ve heard – a Hermès scarf!
‘There was also no shortage of water. Pools on the rock beside him. He could reach them and drink. That’s what saved him. But he must have been rained on, every day he was there. He was sodden and stinking. No wonder he got pneumonia.’
‘You were right about that,’ said Cass. ‘Leslie has been to the ICU. Bilateral pneumonia, they said. They reckon he’s fairly aware of where he is and who he is. But he’s not talking. Not at all. Won’t say how long he was lying there or what happened. Maybe he really doesn’t know. Won’t answer questions about his wife.’
‘Give him a few days,’ said Lyndall. ‘He’s lucky not to have a head injury. He must have landed hard on his feet – both knees are dislocated and the tibias broken. That was his main problem. He couldn’t move from where he landed. But tell me what happened to you!’
Cass had disappeared between some giant ferns to relieve herself, and was pulling up her jeans when she noticed a dramatic orchid nestling behind one of the ferns.
‘I went over to look at it and found myself falling arse over tit,’ she said. ‘There’s a kind of gully there, hidden by ferns, it’s very slippery and it led directly to the edge of the Rock. I went straight down, but growing out of the rock was this tree which caught me. I was upside-down at first, not knowing what the hell had happened. Gradually I pulled myself up and realised I was truly up shit creek. Ten metres of sheer slippery rock above me and forty below and only the tree holding me. With all my weight held by its roots just growing out of the rock.
‘I realised that if I called you there was bugger-all you could do,’ she said to Lyndall, ‘and anyway you might come down as well. Maybe you’d go straight to the bottom but maybe you’d knock me off my perch and we’d both go down!
‘I wanted to get my phone but my shoulder hurt like hell and I couldn’t reach my back pocket straight away. But I could reach the gun. So I fired twice. I did remember to shoot so I wasn’t going to hit you or anything else that would make the shots ricochet and come back to kill me! Eventually I was able to wriggle around and get the phone out.’
‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life,’ said Lyndall. ‘I couldn’t decide whether to run out and grab the phone from my backpack and risk being shot by a lunatic gunman, or lie still and hope the lunatic wouldn’t find me.’
‘You were great, talking me through it,’ said Cass.
Lyndall shook her head dismissively.
When Josh had reached Cass, he’d started to put the rescue harness around her, but with the additional weight, he saw that the roots of the tree were starting to give way. He’d grabbed a firm hold of her, but was unable to get the harness into place. So he’d called Sam, who’d dropped down another one but that hadn’t helped, so finally Cass was winched up in Josh’s arms.
‘They’re my heroes for life!’ she grinned.
Cass had called Drew from the helicopter.
‘I told you I wasn’t going to be pleased, Diamond,’ he said, but with great relief in his voice.
‘Well, y’know,’ she said brightly, ‘I think I’m going to claim overtime for today. Because while I hung out on that tree I was working. I looked down and saw the body of a middle-aged male lying at the bottom. Alive but I’d say not very well. I’d bet millions that it’s Michel Janvier.’
She was rewarded by a silence from Drew that lasted nearly ten seconds.
Then he said: ‘Well done, Detective! Is he accessible by foot from the helipad? By climbing down around the Rock? I don’t remember the geography well.’
‘Yes,’ Cass said. ‘I’m sure he is. Lyndall and one of the paramedics have gone down to him right now. But they’re going to need help to get him out and we’re going to need men there, too. It’s a lot easier getting there by chopper, I can tell you, than walking in!’
‘I’ll organise another chopper and some men and we’ll get up there as soon as we can,’ he said. ‘You take care of yourself and I’ll come to see you later on. It sounds like you’re going to be in hospital a while.’
‘Did they bring your car back?’ Cass now asked Lyndall.
‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘And Drew brought the things we found on the ground around Michel. The two mobiles both had flat batteries. Drew said they’d be recharged to see if they can give you any clues. He was also going to take a look at the tent. Seems like Michel had set himself up to be there for quite a few days.
‘My first thought, when I saw the tent, was that Michel definitely killed her and then went bush. But Drew pointed out that he could have been kidnapped with Odile, but he managed to escape. He’s very fit, or at least he was. He could fight off a couple of attackers even if they killed Odile.’
‘Yes,’ said Cass. ‘Leslie also thought that was possible: Michel escaping after Odile was killed, and managing to take the car. Then abandoning it by the Rock trail, which he knew, and disappearing into that country that he also knew, which is too rugged to follow him into. And then maybe he went back to the tree, and his wife. To see if she was still there.’
‘So,’ said Lyndall, ‘even finding Michel, if he can’t or won’t talk, you’re not really much closer to knowing who killed her?’
‘I think that’s probably true,’ said Cass, ‘though Drew will be taking a good look at everything found up there, especially the ketamine.
‘From what I could see,’ Cass added, ‘he was probably on the path down from the saddle when he fell. He was closer to the top lookout, the one we didn’t get to. Or maybe he was taking a pee too. It’s all really slippery up there.’
The door of the room opened and two people appeared. The first was a tall Aboriginal boy who Lyndall realised must be Jordon. He held out a hand in greeting, and then set down a steaming container of laksa for his mother.
‘Thanks Jay,’ she said, lifting the lid, ‘they gave me the standard supper but I’m still starving.’
The second person was clearly an ED doctor. Dressed in scrubs, dark haired and in his early thirties perhaps, his gaze as he entered went directly to Cass. To Lyndall he seemed vaguely familiar.
‘Hi!’ said Cass. Rather warmly, Lyndall thought. ‘This is Zak. He looked after me in ED. Zak, this is Lyndall. You already met Jordon, downstairs.’
‘She was fantastic,’ Z
ak told Lyndall. ‘She stayed calm the whole time she was stuck out there – she even texted you, Jordon, and said she had a great view and would be back soon!’
Ohho, thought Lyndall. This is what happens when you turn up in ED rescued from a cliff face wearing very little apart from slinky animal-print underwear! But does he know she’s over men? She tried to catch Cass’s eye but her friend was busily tucking into her laksa.
‘Would you guys like some laksa?’ asked Jordon. I’ve got lots.’
‘Actually, yes,’ said Lyndall, ‘I’m starving too!’ Jordon said, ‘Zak?’
‘Thank you, no,’ replied the doctor. ‘Take things easy there, Detective. I’ll come back to check on you later on,’ he added, in what Lyndall decided was a significant tone of voice. Cass was occupied with ripping the shell from a large prawn using her teeth and her one good hand and simply nodded at him.
When the door had closed Cass said through mouthfuls: ‘I’m sure that man should have been off duty hours ago.’
‘Someone should tell him it’s a lost cause,’ Jordon remarked to no-one in particular.
Cairns, 13 March 2011
Cass opened her eyes to see sunlight streaming through the slats in the venetian blinds. She felt delightfully warm and calm, and then remembered the painkiller she’d been given the night before. She lifted her right arm from under the sheet so she could see the face of her watch, which the nursing staff had transferred to that side. Eight o’clock! She must have slept for ten hours.
Hopefully Jordon would soon be here. He’d promised to come at eight with caffeine.
There was a soft tap at the door, which then opened a fraction. Not Jordon, though a vaguely familiar face. Then Cass realised it was that doctor Leslie knew – Henry Jolley – the one she’d chased the other night. She wriggled herself into a sitting position.
‘Come in,’ she said. ‘Um, Dr Jolley, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Ah, please call me Henry. I hope you don’t mind my intruding, Detective. I really just came to see how you are. I was doing a round in the ward next door. You had a very lucky escape yesterday, from what I hear.’
‘I did. The rescue team was fantastic. And my shoulder’s back in place now too. When do you think they’ll let me go home?’
‘Well – shoulders aren’t my area, but maybe later today or tomorrow. I’m sure you’re otherwise pretty healthy.’
He hesitated for a moment and then added: ‘I heard you found … the woman’s husband.’
‘Yes,’ said Cass. ‘I guess it’s all over the news. He was close to the Rock. He’d been there for some time, a few days at least. But it also seemed he’d been living in the bush up there. At least since the cyclone.’
‘Your colleague, Detective Barwen … he told me a bit about it,’ Henry nodded. ‘He’s been wonderful.’
Cass raised a surprised eyebrow. ‘He has?’
‘Yes. I understand that you … the police, Inspector Fernando … were suspicious, that Dr Ingram and I, we might have been covering for each other, saying we were in outpatients together that night. And I have to say, I did talk to Tim Ingram about Odile Janvier that night. He advised me to stop paying the money, and see what happened. I was still thinking about that when I heard she was dead. But anyway, Detective Barwen asked us if we were using hospital computers, and of course we were, and had we driven into the hospital car park, and gone through hospital doors with our passes, which we had also done, so he checked through all the electronic records and confirmed everything.’
Dogged persistence, thought Cass, it really does pay off.
A faint smile crossed Henry’s face. ‘And,’ he added, ‘I think he did the same for my surgical colleague, Dr Mellish. Tracked down all his movements in and out of the hospital with his pass and found he couldn’t have been away long at all. I ran into Mellish down at the police station yesterday. I would never have thought of him getting involved with that woman!’
‘I can’t really comment,’ said Cass, also smiling slightly, ‘but like a stinger jellyfish she had very long and poisonous tentacles. And traded on doctors’ goodwill, as well as, umm, their human susceptibilities.’
Still Henry seemed to linger. Then Cass remembered the reason for the chase at Portsmith. The Controller.
‘The husband’s state of health will have to be assessed,’ she said. ‘We’re still not sure what happened in regards to her death. But I’m sure you’re wondering if he’ll be charged with blackmail,’ she continued.
Henry flushed, but nodded. ‘Yes. I am concerned. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.’
‘It will depend quite a bit on what his victims want. Do they want to press charges and provide information to us and proceed to what would be a trial in an open court?’ said Cass.
‘For myself, I’d just be happy to know that it’s stopped,’ Henry replied. ‘I, er, as I explained to Inspector Fernando, I’ve met this wonderful woman. He told me that most people don’t like blackmail, and he turned out to be right. I was in Sydney when I heard the news about the murder. I came back straight away because I was worried about the story becoming public. But now I’ve told … Susanna, and she was completely understanding. Appalled by what happened to me, actually. It wasn’t a problem at all. I’d lived with this nightmare for years, and now it’s over. That’s all I want.’
There was a knock on the door. Breakfast was being wheeled in, and behind it Cass could see Jordon with a large paper cup. Henry held out his hand to Cass.
‘I’ll get out of your way,’ he said. ‘That’s been really helpful. Thank you so much, I was worried about those things.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ Cass said. ‘I’m sorry I chased you last week! I almost arrested you!’
‘I deserved it! Get better soon.’
Henry left the room and walked out the main door of the hospital. He crossed the road and let himself into his private rooms. It was Sunday, there was no-one else there.
In his office he unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and took out the two letters and the USB sticks sent by the Controller.
Back in the outer office, he hesitated for a moment.
Then he pushed the letters and USBs into a yellow plastic bag of the kind used for infectious pathology samples. He placed the bag into the dangerous waste bin in the sluice room at the back of the building. Later that day it would be churned up and spat out by the giant reprocessing plant at Portsmith. His relationship with the Controller was over.
With a spring in his step he headed to the Esplanade. There was time for a walk along to the Pier and back.
And later he had a lunch date at L’Unico. With Susanna.
At the same time, on the floor below where Cass was eating her breakfast, a man sat propped up in another hospital bed, watched from the door by two uniformed policemen. Two nurses were attempting to get the man to drink some juice. He was not cooperating.
Michel Janvier was not cooperating because his mind was wandering between morphine-induced sleep and semi-wakefulness, and the wakefulness was filled with images that he could not piece together.
He was in a hospital … that he knew at times. Dr Lyndall had been here … but now she was gone. At one point he thought he had seen her up in the bush, but that couldn’t be right. At one point he thought she had been with him in a plane. Or a helicopter. But that couldn’t be right either. He had wanted Dr Lyndall. He had wanted to talk to her. To explain everything. But his mouth was so dry and sore he could not speak. Then she was gone, and she had not come back.
Sometimes he saw Odile. Her lipstick was red and the bottoms of her shoes were red. She was in his arms and she was struggling, she kicked him and the red-bottomed shoe fell off and it was his fault. Then he could see her standing over him, her face grinning at him as she shrieked at him: Beg! Beg! You have to beg me for it. Then not Odile herself, but her head that was more a skull, the eye sockets empty, but still Odile’s mouth, grinning at him. She was in the bush, in the rainforest. How did she get
there? Had he taken her there? How could he do that? She would never let him do that.
He wanted a smoke but they would not give him one in this place. More than the smoke, he wanted the silk. Just to hold it in his fingers. That would be enough to ease the pain in his legs. He didn’t want to drink. He reached out his arm and pushed the beaker away from his lips and shook his head. He could not find the English words to say that what he wanted was the silk. Just give me the silk, he thought.
‘It’s no use, Mandy,’ said one of the nurses. ‘Just keep the IV running today and give him more morphine so he stays quiet. The cops will have to wait to talk to him.’
Cairns, 15 March 2011
Cass ran a warm bath and poured in lemon bath salts. She was planning to soak her shoulder. When she was still it didn’t hurt, but once she was up and about, even in the sling she’d been given, the joint ached. She was under strict orders from Leslie to rest up and not show her face in Sheridan Street for at least two weeks.
She climbed in, placing her mobile and her coffee cup on the side of the bath close to her good arm. She was reaching out her toes to turn on the tap for more hot water when the mobile rang. She sat up slowly and wriggled towards the phone. It was Lyndall. What did she want so early?
‘Cass!’ Lyndall sounded concerned. ‘I’m sorry to call you at this hour. I know you’re on leave. But I just discovered something, quite … well, something I think might shed some light on what happened between Michel and Odile.’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s on my voicemail. Of a phone, quite an old phone, that I use only when I’m on call. I hadn’t looked at it until this morning – I’m on call today, you see. I charged up the phone last night. And this morning I discovered a whole lot of messages from Michel. I must have given him the number when Dominic and Damian were first in court.’
Double Madness Page 25
