Ghostly Hitchhiker Box Set

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Ghostly Hitchhiker Box Set Page 69

by Rodney Strong

‘Someone just tried to kill me.’

  TWENTY SEVEN

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Well, not according to Roman, but the timing is bloody suspicious if you ask me.’

  ‘Graeme, what are you talking about?’

  There was the sound of murmured conversation from the other end of the phone, then Detective Wilson’s voice came on.

  ‘Mr Atkinson, my uncle has had an accident, but as you can tell, apart from some fantastic ideas he is fine.’

  ‘What happened?’ Oliver realised he was talking loudly and lowered his volume. ‘Are you sure he’s not hurt?’

  No one answered and there was a scuffling sound before Graeme came back on.

  ‘Right, I’ve sent my overprotective nephew off to get some coffee. Where was I? Oh yes, someone tried to kill me, which is great, don’t you think?’

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘I was leaving home this morning to head to the supermarket and about three quarters of the way down the hill the motor on the cable car gave out, and so did the brakes.’

  ‘Holy c—’ Oliver bit off the rest of his response. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘You keep asking that, but it’s obvious I am. Roman thinks it’s faulty wiring, but I’ve lived there for five years and never had a problem.’

  ‘Can we get back to the no brakes thing?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘What? Oh, well I was almost at the bottom so I just got knocked down, bruised my ribs I think, nothing a decent drink wouldn’t fix. But you have to agree, it’s a bit dodgy right? We start asking questions and suddenly someone is determined to silence me. Takes me back to the glory days of journalism.’

  (Oh no, someone broke the cable car?)

  And tried to break Graeme.

  (Oh yeah.)

  ‘Any idea when it was done?’

  ‘Let’s see, I got home at six last night and left around 9.30 this morning so anytime in there.’

  There was a pause with more unidentified sounds, then Wilson came back on.

  ‘My uncle needs to rest, or I will ask them to give you a sedative,’ his voice drifted away as he spoke to Graeme, then came back strong. ‘I’m going to push through the request for Nick Rawlings’ phone records. I’m not saying Graeme is right, however…’

  ‘You’re also not saying he’s wrong,’ Oliver finished.

  ‘What was so pressing that my uncle called you as soon as I stepped out of the room?’

  Oliver thought quickly. If Graeme hadn’t told his nephew why he was ringing Oliver then he must have a reason, beyond his basic mistrust of police.

  ‘He wanted to know whether I’d discovered anything new,’ he replied.

  ‘And have you?’

  ‘A lot of things that seem to eliminate people and motives, but nothing that points to the killer.’ There was movement out of the corner of his eye and he watched David climb to his feet and point a finger in the direction of the lounge, then to himself, then mimed driving.

  (He’s pointing. Do you think he’s the killer?)

  ‘He was born twenty-five years too late.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Detective Wilson replied.

  ‘Nothing, just thinking out loud. I’m sorry, I have to go. Will Graeme be staying in hospital?’

  ‘I had to threaten to handcuff him to get him here in the first place. I’m playing the nephew card and have persuaded him to come home with me until his cable car is fixed.’

  ‘Do you really think it’s a coincidence that his cable car has technical difficulties now?’ Oliver said.

  ‘If not, then god help the person that did this.’

  Despite not being the target of his declaration Oliver shivered at the steel in Wilson’s voice.

  Jasper and Barbara were relieved when he said they had to go, although the dark looks Barbara was giving her former lover implied the man’s relief would be short lived.

  In the car Oliver brought Alice up to date before starting the engine. As it idled he stared at the car parked in front of him. David was leaning against the side of it, he’d given them a disinterested grunt in lieu of goodbye.

  ‘The way it usually works is the earth stands still and the car moves,’ Alice said.

  The niggly thought that had started to form disappeared. ‘Right, I’ll drop you off and go see Rawlings’ neighbour Caitlin.’

  ‘I’m happy to go with you.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t want to tire you out.’

  ‘You know who gets tired, Oliver? Living people. If I’m tired I’m breathing, now let’s go.’

  ‘Yes ma’am,’ he grinned and put the car into gear.

  The university perched halfway up one of the many hills surrounding the city. They got there with thirty minutes to spare, which only made them five minutes late for the appointment by the time they found a car park. Alice decided to wait in the car rather than make the steep climb on foot.

  There was only one girl standing outside the bookstore, which was lucky as Oliver hadn’t wanted to be that guy, the one who walked up to different women asking if they were waiting for him. He hadn’t done it when he was young and single, and had no desire to do it now he was slightly less young and a lot more attached.

  Caitlin was in her early twenties and to Oliver’s eyes looked the same as every other student on campus, wearing blue jeans and branded T-shirt, scuffed bag thrown over one shoulder, and a face that said “I’m eager to learn” mixed with “I know better than you”.

  ‘I know you,’ she said when Oliver introduced himself.

  Part of him hoped the next sentence out of her mouth was “I read your books and loved them”.

  ‘I saw you at Ashley Trent’s funeral,’ she said, referring to something that had happened while Oliver’s last hitchhiker had been in residence.

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘The old guy said you wanted to know about Nick. Shame about him. I’ve been studying for finals and that means loads of late nights, and I was just finishing up the other night when I heard this loud crash. There are a few students in the building and you get loud noises sometimes, but this one was different.’

  He wondered if she was going to pause for breath. She reminded him a little of Debbie.

  ‘Then I heard a door slam and I looked through the peephole in my front door, but the elevator doors were closing so I didn’t see who was in there. I wasn’t going to call the cops, but my roommate is away so it’s just me at home right now, so I thought I’d phone them just in case, you know?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Anyway they left this card under my door the next day saying they wanted to talk to me but honestly I haven’t had time, between work and study and exams I can barely breathe. I heard from one of the other neighbours that Nick fell, which is a shame because he was a nice guy, and can you give this to the cops?’

  She rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a phone.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked.

  ‘A phone.’

  (Even I know that and I’ve been dead for ages.)

  ‘Yes I know that, but why am I giving it to the police?’

  She looked down at her hand, then gave a little shrug of her shoulders. ‘Oh, right, this is Nick’s phone. He came over the night I heard the noise and asked if he could charge his phone because he’d left his charger at work and the battery had died and he was expecting a call.’

  Oliver took the phone from her hand. It looked brand new, but when he flipped it over he saw Nick’s name engraved on the back. He turned it to the front and pressed the power button. The screen came alive revealing a photo of a pen resting on a sheet of paper. A series of dots laid out in a square appeared. He would need to know the right pattern to unlock it.

  ‘Why didn’t he borrow your charger and take it back to his place?’

  ‘I was charging my phone. I told him I’d charge his straight after and he said he’d come back in a couple of hours, but I guess he forgot, or I forgot… someone forgot. I didn’t even remember I still
had it until this morning, so I shoved it into my bag and I was going to drop into the police station after I finished here for the day.’

  ‘I’ll take care of it, thanks.’

  ‘Are you sure? Maybe I should take it to them myself.’ She looked uncertainly at him and half reached out with her hand to take the phone back.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he replied, slipping the phone into his pocket where she couldn’t get it without an awkward amount of touching.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Don’t you have another exam to get to?’

  Her eyes flicked to her watch. ‘Oh crap! Yes, tell them I’ll be home late this afternoon if they need to talk to me.’

  She started to walk away, then twisted her head back to face him. ‘I am sorry about Nick. He was a nice guy, he even wrote me a poem once.’

  (Huh, I thought he only wrote poems for me and Brigid.)

  ‘That was nice of him,’ Oliver said.

  ‘Yeah. I showed it to my English Lit professor, and he said it was pretty good.’ She strode through the doors of the bookshop.

  (I told you he wrote good stuff.)

  And I never said I didn’t believe you.

  In the car he showed Alice the phone.

  ‘So now we just need to know how to get into it,’ she said.

  ‘Any ideas?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘You’re asking a ninety-seven year old how to unlock a modern day phone,’ Alice said with raised eyebrows.

  ‘Sorry, not sure what I was thinking,’ he muttered.

  ‘Wow, Oliver sometimes you make this way too easy. I don’t have a clue how to unlock it, but I know people who can.’

  ‘You know you can go back to being retired anytime,’ he said darkly.

  ‘I will soon, I have a feeling that things are going to come to a head shortly.’

  ‘As long as my head remains on my shoulders.’

  Alice directed him down the hill and into the city, through a series of main streets and side streets, before parking and leading him to a shop that declared it fixed phones and other electronic devices.

  ‘They aren’t going to just unlock a phone for us,’ Oliver said as they stood outside.

  Her answer was to push the door open and enter the tiny shop. The space was virtually empty except for a small counter running along the back wall. A man in his early twenties sat behind it playing with an electronic tablet.

  ‘How can I…’ he started to say, looking up with a smile plastered on his face. ‘Oh hey.’

  ‘Hi, Troy. This is my friend Oliver.’

  ‘Hey, Oliver.’

  The man looked vaguely familiar to Oliver but he couldn’t picture where from.

  ‘We need you to unlock this,’ Alice handed Troy the phone.

  Troy looked over the phone, pressed a couple of buttons then grinned. ‘Sure, fifty dollars.’

  ‘Oliver, pay the man.’

  With a sigh he pulled out his wallet and checked inside. ‘Do you take credit card?’

  ‘For this?’ Troy laughed. ‘Get real.’

  Oliver pulled all his notes out, carefully counted them and handed over all but one. The money disappeared into Troy’s pocket.

  A few seconds later the phone was plugged into a cord that ran to a laptop.

  ‘How long will this—?’ Oliver began.

  ‘Done,’ Troy interrupted. He unplugged the phone and handed it over. ‘There’s no security on there now so if the phone locks again just swipe to unlock it.’

  Oliver took the phone from him in stunned silence.

  (Wow that seemed fast. Was that fast?)

  ‘Thanks, Troy. My best to Emily,’ Alice said.

  ‘No worries, Tania.’ He turned his attention back to the tablet he was working on.

  (Tania? I thought her name was Alice.)

  Who knows how many names she has.

  They stood outside the shop while Oliver scrolled through the phone’s logs. ‘Nothing much in text messaging, let’s look at the calls. He made a call the night he died, no idea who the number belongs to.’

  ‘There’s one…’

  He held up his finger. ‘I know, call it.’

  Alice grinned. ‘My granddaughter has been a good influence on you.’

  She laughed when he rolled his eyes as he pressed redial. He put it on speaker and they listened to it ringing then connect.

  ‘Hello,’ a woman’s voice said. ‘You have reached the Yardley residence, we’re not home right now but if you’d like to…’

  Oliver disconnected.

  ‘Well, well. It looks like Jasper has been keeping things to himself,’ Alice said.

  ‘Yes, although…,’ he frowned. ‘He told us this morning he can’t drive, so what? He asks his grandson to drive him to an apartment building so he can murder someone.’

  ‘He probably didn’t use those exact words, not that David would have noticed.’

  ‘There’s another obvious answer,’ Oliver said.

  ‘James.’

  ‘James,’ Oliver agreed. ‘Although he would have only been a kid back in 1978.’

  (He was older than us.)

  How much older?

  (Don’t know, but I think he was younger than Nick. He was still at school.)

  ‘Kids have been known to commit murder,’ Alice pointed out.

  ‘I suppose, but it’s more likely that Jasper called a taxi or ride share to get to Nick’s place.’

  ‘Either way the finger is pointing directly at one of the Yardleys’.’

  Oliver nodded thoughtfully. ‘I suppose we should give this to Detective Wilson.’ He indicated the phone.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘You agree?’ he asked in surprise.

  ‘I completely think that you should give that to the police…eventually.’

  He should have known better.

  ‘I’m going to drop you home.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because even though you’re the toughest old lady I’ve ever met, your granddaughter is not someone I want as an enemy and I’m not going to confront a potential murderer with you in tow.’

  ‘Bit late for that now, we’ve already met with him twice.’

  ‘We didn’t accuse him of anything more serious than hooking up with someone not his wife. I’m afraid this is non-negotiable.’

  Alice studied his face then held her hands up in a surrender pose. ‘You need to call me as soon as it’s over though.’

  (If he’s still alive.)

  Not helping.

  He assured her once they got into the car, and once again when she got out.

  (What if he kills you and I’m still in your head? Does that make me dead twice?)

  ‘No one is going to kill me.’

  His phone rang and he answered it.

  ‘I need a progress report,’ Beth said. ‘Can we meet at my parents’ house?’

  Oliver hesitated, as he worked out his children’ pick up times and travel times and eating times. There was enough time to do only two of those things. He silently apologised to his stomach and agreed to meet Beth in thirty minutes.

  As soon as that call ended another one came in.

  ‘Hi, honey, how’s the sleuthing going?’

  ‘We may have made a break through.’ He brought Jennifer up to speed and told her where he was going.

  ‘Well, be careful. Your track record of identifying killers isn’t great.’

  ‘I always catch them,’ he protested.

  ‘Mmm, I’d feel better if Amanda was with you. Come home safe.’

  ‘I’m only seeing Beth. Still working out how I’m going to organise an Agatha Christie moment and get all the suspects together in the drawing room to unveil the killer.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all under control. Listen, Oliver, I’m serious. If anyone even looks at you funny I want you to run.’

  ‘Works for me.’

  He spent the rest of the trip working out how he could get Jasper and James in a room tog
ether without tipping them off to his suspicions. By the time he parked outside the Judkin’s house he’d devised a rough plan.

  Beth didn’t answer the front door so he walked around to the back of the house. She was standing at the back fence looking towards the construction of the new road. Monty lay at her feet, looking bored or tired.

  (Monty.)

  The dog lifted his head and gave a single sharp bark.

  ‘Hi, Beth,’ Oliver called out.

  She turned with a sad look on her face and he wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake coming alone.

  ‘This house has been in my family for over forty years, and in two days it’s getting torn down.’

  ‘It must be difficult. I know it was when I had to go through my parents’ house.’

  Beth squared her shoulders. ‘We’d like a progress report.’

  We. That word sliced down his spine.

  ‘We?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, we,’ came a voice from behind him.

  Oliver whirled around and saw Jasper standing by the back door.

  TWENTY EIGHT

  Oliver felt his lips go dry and he stepped back so he could see Beth and Jasper at the same time.

  ‘I wasn’t aware the two of you knew each other,’ he said, hoping his voice sounded normal, while calculating the odds of overpowering two people older than him, plus a dog that may have been older than him in human years but had the teeth of a youngster. Running seemed to be a better option, he decided.

  ‘I’m familiar with all the people even remotely linked to my sister’s disappearance,’ Beth told him.

  ‘Even if they are innocent,’ Jasper added.

  Oliver noted Beth’s sceptical look.

  ‘Jasper was leaving the street as I came in so he stopped and we got to chatting.’

  (Does she believe him?)

  ‘Where’s your grandson?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘Gone to the shops. He’s too restless so I sent him for lunch.’

  Oliver’s stomach rumbled in sympathy.

  ‘So what progress have you made?’

  He turned towards Beth who had taken several steps closer, Monty glued to her side.

  (What’s wrong?)

  He could feel his heart picking up speed and took a deep breath.

  ‘I know that you and Jill O’Shey played a trick on Debbie by writing her a note supposedly from Nick.’

 

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