‘Oh, Peter.’ Tears welled up in Daphne’s eyes and Pip encased her hand in his, squeezing and stroking.
‘There, there, Daphne, luv.’
Her gaze flew to Erika’s. ‘How did it happen?’ She slapped her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You must still be in grief and shock yourself.’
Erika pressed her lips together to stop the squeezing ache in her chest and the prickling in her eyes. It didn’t help. She could feel the emotions rising. She bit the inside of her lips, tasting the copper sting of blood, the pain bringing a moment of control with it, making her able to nod. In her mind, she began to create the mountain field, breathing in and out slowly, certainly. She had to hold it in. Hold it together.
‘You poor thing,’ Daphne said, patting her hand. ‘Does your grandma know yet?’
Erika shook her head. ‘Harts said she was at Coolabah Nursing Home. Is that true?’
‘Peter never told you?’ Pip asked.
‘I told you so,’ Daphne whispered in an aside that Erika couldn’t help but hear. ‘That boy was keeping secrets.’
‘Shush, Daph. Erika doesn’t need to hear about that right now.’
Erika managed a smile. ‘It’s okay. I’ve kind of figured out he was keeping things from me.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘I don’t want to see her, anyway. Someone else can tell her.’
Daphne’s grip on her hand tightened. ‘We’ll take care of it.’
‘I find it hard to believe she’s in a nursing home. How did Peter get her to agree to go there?’
‘She didn’t have a choice. Peter tried to look after her himself, but it just wasn’t possible. Besides, he needed to sell the house to pay for her treatments.’
‘Treatments? What do you mean?’ They shot looks at each other again and she could tell they didn’t want to tell her what was obviously more bad news. ‘Please, tell me.’
Pip nodded slowly, took a deep breath, and put his hands on the table, palm up, met her gaze. ‘Your grandma started to behave strangely about ten years or so back, but it wasn’t until about six years ago things got worse. Got herself into some trouble financially and with the law. That’s when Peter came home to help, and things seemed okay for a few years, but then she started to have fainting spells and fits. Peter didn’t tell you any of this?’
She shook her head, numbly.
‘No. Well. Anyway, Peter took her off to the doctor and she had lots of tests and was sent down to Sydney to see a specialist. When they came back, Peter sold the house and put her in the nursing home.’ Daphne sighed sadly. ‘She has an inoperable brain tumour. It’s slowly eating up her brain, giving her a kind of dementia, changing her personality. She’d actually gambled away all her money.’
‘Oh my god,’ Erika said.
‘He had to sell everything to cover her debts and to pay for a room at Coolabah, because he really didn’t want her at the public hospital in the palliative care wing.’
‘She’s dying?’
‘Well, she’s hanging on. He’s paid for all sorts of treatments that have kept the thing from killing her outright, and he’s spent all his free time looking into new treatments, here and overseas. He recently found out about some trial in the US that could help, but he needed one hundred grand to pay for the airfares and hospital stay. He was desperate to get her over there, but he wouldn’t take money from us. Just like Mabel—too proud. He went to the bank, but he already had a business loan and no collateral, so they said no.’
‘That’s why he asked me for money. Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t he come to me first?’
‘Maybe he thought you wouldn’t give it to him if you knew who it was for.’
Horrified realisation prickled over her. ‘I thought he was pulling my leg. I had no idea about any of it.’ Maybe he had got involved with creating meth to pay for the experimental treatment. He would do anything for Mabel.
‘Poor Peter. He was such a good lad. How did this happen?’
Erika stared at Daphne for a long moment, feeling Pip’s steady gaze on her. She straightened her back, shoving away the betraying thoughts. Peter wasn’t making money from meth. Not even for Mabel. ‘I don’t know why he was there, but it wasn’t for the money. Otherwise, why would he ask me for it?’
Pip shrugged. ‘Perhaps Mac or Coops can help you with this, EJ. You should go and speak to them.’
‘Detective Senior Constable Hartley Cooper doesn’t think there’s a crime here worthy of his time and effort.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Daphne began. ‘And even if he did, Mac wouldn’t feel the same. He knew we loved that boy. He’d want to know what happened. He’d…’
Pip put his hand over Daphne’s, stopping her. ‘Mac isn’t a detective yet, Daphne. It’s not up to him whether to investigate or not. That will come down to Katherine. If there’s no proof of any wrongdoing—’
Erika raised her hand, stopping Pip’s words in their tracks and making the older couple look at her, their eyes widening in surprise. Fierce. That’s how she felt. And avenging. Peter might be dead, but he wasn’t going to be remembered as a foolish man who got in over his head with drugs and was killed in a stupid accident. Not if that wasn’t the truth. And she was certain the truth was something else entirely.
‘EJ—are you okay?’
She nodded, let her hand sink back down to the table with a faint slap. Then, turning to stare out the window that overlooked Echo Parade, she said, ‘They might not think there’s proof right now, but if there is, I’m bloody well going to find it.’
Chapter Five
‘I’m sorry Coops, but despite her obvious credentials,’ Superintendent Katherine Stuart tapped the open folder in front of her, ‘I can’t allow Erika Hanson to do an autopsy on her brother or Mr Montgomery.’
‘But Boss, it’s her brother…’
‘Even more reason why this is totally inappropriate.’ She raised a brow and gave him that look that somehow managed to be both authoritative and empathetic at the same time. She folded her hands in front of her on her desk and the empathetic look deepened. ‘I understand that she would want to have some answers as to why and how her brother died, and she wants them sooner rather than later, but how on earth could she possibly be an impartial examiner with her brother’s burned body lying there on the slab?’
‘You don’t know Erika Hanson.’
She frowned a little. ‘Yes, I have heard from Sergeant Cooper already how much of an … unusual personality she was and just how much trouble she used to get both herself and you into because of it.’
Hartley’s mouth dried a little. ‘It isn’t as bad as the Sarge makes it out to be.’
‘No, maybe not.’
‘And most of the reason she used to get into trouble was because she was smarter than anyone else in the town by more than a country mile and that made her see things in a different way.’ He had no idea why he had this sudden need to defend her against anything his dad might have said to the Boss. ‘She certainly never responded to things in the ways others expected her to, and it caused a lot of misunderstandings and resentments, most of which weren’t really her fault.’
‘I don’t see what relevance any of that has to the discussion.’
‘I’m telling you because her intelligence and the way she looks at the world means she is actually quite capable of doing an autopsy on her brother and remaining completely impartial. It’s strange, but it’s the way she’s wired. You’d understand if you met her.’
Katharine stared off into the distance, her dark brows slightly crinkled in that way that told him she was seriously considering his words, but then she shook her head and sighed. ‘I know it’s not what you wanted to hear and I wish I could give you another answer, particularly as it would speed up this investigation and allow us to close this unfortunate case, but it’s just not possible. Even if I believed she could remain impartial, there’s jurisdictional issues at play here, not to mention the whole politics of
the situation. We cannot allow someone who is not employed by the New South Wales State Coroner’s Office to do an autopsy on one of our cases. If there is any suggestion of foul play in this case, the defence could have a field day with the provenance of the evidence collected.’
‘She says her boss would be willing to loan her out to the New South Wales Coroner’s Office, that they’ve done so before. She could come on as a temporary replacement to Metler.’
‘Detective, I do not want the New South Wales coroner being bothered with what will seem to him an insignificant case. Besides, I’m quite certain he will have the same reservations as me in regards to her ability to remain impartial, so it’s not as guaranteed as your friend seems to think.’
‘But Boss—’
She held up her hand. ‘I have given my reasons why this can’t happen and that is final. The autopsy can wait until a New South Wales-registered forensic pathologist is available to come up here and do the job.’
Katherine’s jaw squared in the way that meant she wasn’t about to change her mind. ‘But if you don’t allow Erika to do this, Boss, I know she’s going to make my life a living hell.’ Oh god, had he just said that? He sounded like a whiney arse.
‘Then that is your issue to deal with, isn’t it, Detective Senior Constable. It is hardly the role of this department to ensure Erika Hanson doesn’t give you hell. Which right now, I’m quite sure you somehow deserve. Now, if that is all, I think you need to let Ms Hanson know of my decision and then you need to move on to the other cases that require your attention.’
Hartley shoved his hands behind his back. ‘Yes, Boss.’ He nodded curtly, turned and walked out, managing to close the door behind him without slamming it.
Katherine never liked her staff to exhibit what she called ‘male posturing gestures’. If you wanted to stay on her good side—and he did, she was one of the best superintendents he’d ever worked under—you made bloody sure to keep that kind of shit out of the workplace. Gender politics aside, he actually thought it made the station a better place to work. He didn’t particularly like the kind of workplace his dad often reminisced about and where he himself had worked in the city before getting the position here.
‘No luck?’
He looked up to see Senior Constable Mac Hudson, leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. Hartley twisted his mouth. ‘Nope. It was a long shot anyway.’
‘And yet you still asked.’ Mac made a whistling noise. ‘Well, well. I didn’t think it was possible.’
‘What?’ Hartley asked, slumping down into his chair and staring morosely at the pile of paperwork on his desk.
‘That you were still holding a candle for Erika Hanson. I thought that ship had sailed sixteen years ago when she skipped out of town, leaving you holding your sausages.’
‘Eh-hem.’ Hartley looked up to see Constable Mayne standing in the doorway. Her face was alight with suppressed laughter, lips twitching.
‘Constable?’ Mac asked. ‘Can we help you?’
‘I’m sorry to interrupt your serious discussion of…sausages.’ Her gaze dipped down and then shot back up. A flush of red highlighted her cheeks as she cleared her throat. ‘You asked me to bring you this as soon as it came in, Senior Constable.’
Mac ignored the package she was holding out toward him, his lips twitching. ‘Constable, I’m shocked. Did your mind wander into the gutter just then?’
‘No.’ Her lips stopped twitching, her back ramrod straight.
Hartley stood abruptly. He was in no mood to let Mac have a little laugh at the constable. He took the package from her hand, and smiling, said, ‘Mac was actually referring to the package of sausages from the butcher that Erika and I took from an order meant for Mrs Patterson. Erika wanted to give it to the wild dogs outside of town. She said they were starving and Mrs Patterson obviously wasn’t.’
The constable made a sound that was like a choked laugh crossed with a snort. ‘I think I like the sound of your Erika Hanson.’
‘She’s not my Erika Hanson.’
‘Are you sure?’ Mac drawled.
Hartley shoved the package at him. ‘I think both Mayne and I have had enough of your particular brand of smartarsery today, Senior Constable. Don’t you have something better to do than stand around making fun of your betters?’
‘Perhaps I would if they were actually my betters.’
Leila made another choking sound.
Mac frowned at her. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be out on patrol, Constable?’
She snapped straight, all amusement leaving her face. ‘Yes, Senior Constable,’ she said as she marched from the room.
Hartley sighed as she disappeared around the corner. ‘Give Mayne a break, Mac. She’s not her dad.’
‘Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to automatically trust her, given her history. Especially with that chip she’s got on her shoulder.’
‘She’s got that chip because she thinks she’s got something to prove.’ Hartley raked his hand through his hair. ‘It’s hard enough being a country cop in your hometown without extra baggage.’
‘You’ve got that right.’
‘So just give her a break.’
Mac shrugged then shrugged again as Hartley kept looking at him. ‘What?’
‘Nothing. Just wondering what stick’s crawled up your arse today—it’s not like you to torment the newbies.’
‘It stops me from punching a hole through the wall.’ Mac’s smartarse smile melted away to be replaced by anger and grief. ‘I can’t believe Pete’s dead.’
‘I didn’t realise you were friends.’
‘We were—kind of. Well, as much as anyone could be with a Hanson—we played a bit as kids because our parents were friends. That stopped after they died. But when he came back to town to look after Mabel, we played cricket and footy together. And he was often there for family dinners at the hotel when he moved in.’ He scrubbed his hand over his mouth. ‘Mum’s going to be devastated. Especially given it looks like he was involved in drugs. How the hell am I going to tell her?’ He shoved away from the desk, began to pace. ‘How could he? How could he do that to them? They took him in. How could he bring that shit near them?’
‘Erika doesn’t think he had anything to do with the drugs. Do you think he could have?’
Mac stopped pacing and ran his hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know. I thought he was so straightlaced. I mean, the man barely even had a beer with the boys after a game. He’d usually just drink coke or one of those energy drinks before going home early to get a good night’s sleep. And after all the rumours about his mum and the way it used to upset him … It just seems so improbable that he could be into making drugs.’
‘People do all sorts of things when loved ones are on the line. Mabel was sick and he needed the money. I mean, what would you do for your loved ones?’
‘Not that.’ He shook his head. ‘Pete should have known better.’
‘Maybe he did.’
‘You think Erika is right?’
Hartley pushed away from the desk he’d been leaning on. ‘Maybe. We won’t know anything until that autopsy is done and Toby gets back to us with the report on the fire and explosion.’
‘So what’s next?’
Hartley grabbed the file from his desk. It was still too empty for his liking. ‘I need to make up a new case board with what we’ve got so far, then I need to find out who owns those warehouses and chat to the owners.’
‘Putting off talking to EJ, eh?’
He shot Mac an ‘eat shit’ grin. ‘Maybe.’
Mac chuckled. ‘I can do the calls.’
‘No, Ben’s supposed to be working this case with me, I’ll get him to make the calls.’
‘Strawberry’s not here. He headed back out to the meth lab to have another look around after the firies were done with their investigation—didn’t want to miss anything.’
Hartley smiled. Ben Fields’s surprise return to Echo Springs had tur
ned into a good thing for them—he was a good copper. ‘I’ll radio him and let him know I’m heading out a bit later.’ He headed toward the locked door that led into the detectives’ case room. Mac followed him but hung at the door as Hartley began to pin what he had up on the blank board at the far end of the room. As he stuck a photo of the warehouses up, he heard Mac walk up behind him and turned to see him staring at the photo of the warehouses. ‘What is it? Do you see something?’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just, those warehouses are pretty run down and filthy and Pete had a bit of cleanliness thing going on. You know he used to wash his hands all the time? It’s hard to believe he’d choose to go out there and set up a drug lab.’ He scratched his jaw. ‘It’s probably nothing.’
Hartley wrote it down on the board next to the picture. ‘It’s worth noting. Anything to help us with the wider picture.’ He stuck the last bit of paper from the file on the board and stepped back to have a look.
‘There’s not much here,’ Mac said. ‘Pity about the Boss not letting EJ do the autopsy. There could be some critical evidence there.’
Hartley turned in surprise. ‘You think she should be allowed to do it?’
Mac shrugged. ‘She’s the only forensic pathologist around. Besides, it’s EJ. You know she was always a little … strange. All those rumours about her mum’s death and she never batted an eye. Not like Peter.’
‘There were reasons for that.’
‘Maybe. But I was younger than you guys and I noticed it.’ Mac raised his hands. ‘Look, all I’m saying is that if anyone could do it, she could. Besides, it’s not like we don’t need help with this.’
‘You’re not wrong there. But it’s all useless talk anyway, because the Boss said no.’
Mac folded his arms. ‘So when are you planning to tell EJ the bad news?’
Hartley winced. ‘Now’s as good a time as any, I suppose. Then I need to go talk to Grim.’
‘He won’t have had a chance to do any analysis yet, will he?’
‘Probably not. But he does have a feel for fires. It’s in his blood. He might have something to add to what Erika thinks.’ He clenched his fingers at his side. ‘Maybe enough to change the Boss’s mind.’
Dangerous Echoes Page 4
