Hindsight (9781921997211)

by Casey, Melanie

  Ed grabbed his keys. He had a feeling it might take some convincing to get Cass to come in for an ID. The sooner he got over there and talked to her the better.

  It was going to be a big day. With a bit of luck they might have the person responsible for Susan’s disappearance in custody by the end of it. A wave of white-hot rage swept over him as he thought about what he’d like to do to him.

  Half an hour later he was standing on Cass’s porch again. Anita answered the door at his first knock. She didn’t look surprised to see him. Ed wondered if that was part of her talent. Did she know in advance who was going to come calling?

  ‘Is Cass home?’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realised how absurd the question was. Of course she was home.

  ‘Come in, yes, she’s here and she’s awake. I heard her in the shower about twenty minutes ago so she should be down soon. Come into the kitchen. Do you want a cup of tea?’

  ‘Coffee would be great if you have some?’

  ‘I can manage that.’

  Anita Lehman was dressed in a black turtleneck jumper and jeans; quite different from the flamboyant, gypsy-looking outfits she’d sported on his other visits. Her hair was pulled back from her face. She looked elegant. She looked tired too. Ed felt a pang of guilt. He was pretty sure he was partly responsible for that. She must have been worried about Cass the day before.

  He sat in the same chair. He was starting to feel like a fixture in their kitchen. Even the cat hardly batted an eyelid when he walked in. The sleek black head looked up from its food bowl for the briefest moment before going back to enthusiastic scoffing.

  ‘That cat is eating every time I’m here.’

  ‘Yes, he’s a passionate devotee of his food bowl. He didn’t get to be the size he is just by chance.’

  ‘Hmm, it’s a wonder the locals don’t think you’re witches — three women with a black cat.’

  ‘Trust me, some of them do.’ She passed him a coffee and slid a plate of homemade biscuits in front of him.

  ‘They’re my mum’s homemade choc-chip biscuits. Beware, they’re very moreish.’

  ‘I’m going to get fat if I keep visiting you like this.’

  Cass walked into the kitchen a few minutes later just as he was tucking into his third biscuit.

  ‘Morning, Mum. Hey, Ed.’

  ‘Gee, I must really be spending too much time here if you were actually expecting to see me at your table.’ He smiled at her.

  ‘Nah, I saw your car from my window.’ She gave him a faint smile back. She still looked tired; there were dark shadows under her eyes and her skin was pale and waxen.

  ‘Sit down, Cass. I’ll pour you a coffee. Do you want some breakfast?’

  Ed didn’t bat an eyelid at the idea of breakfast at midday. He was starting to get used to the weird hours Cass kept.

  ‘No, no breakfast thanks, Mum. I’m not hungry. I might have something later.’

  Anita passed her a mug of coffee. She turned to Ed. ‘Do you need to speak to Cass in private?’

  ‘No that’s fine, Mrs Lehman. Please, stay.’

  She sat down and they all sipped in silence.

  ‘I have some news for you,’ Ed said finally.

  Two pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly.

  ‘I went back to the station last night and checked Susan’s diary. It’s still in her evidence box. She went to an expo as well. It looks like the killer was a stallholder. We have a suspect that we’re going to bring in today for questioning.’

  ‘Oh, good, I mean that’s terrible, but it’s good you have a suspect,’ Cass said.

  ‘Yeah.’ He looked down at his hands wrapped around the blue and white china mug. Now that it had come to the point where he had to ask her to come and do the ID he was at a loss for words. Seeing how exhausted she looked reminded him of the high personal price she’d paid to help him already. Asking her to do more didn’t seem right.

  ‘You didn’t come here just to tell me that.’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘You want me to come and look at the man you bring in.’

  ‘Yes. Will you do it?’

  Anita Lehman had been silently watching the exchange. She sighed deeply.

  ‘Mum?’ Cass asked.

  ‘It’s all right, Cass. Don’t mind me. I just worry for you like any mother would.’

  ‘Except you’re not like every other mother. Is there something I need to know?’

  ‘No, nothing different from what I’ve already told you. You need to do what you feel is best.’

  ‘I have to help him.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  Ed wondered what Anita had told Cass. It was one thing dealing with an anxious parent but an anxious parent with the ability to predict the future was something different altogether. It was no wonder there hadn’t been many men in Cass’s life. It added a whole new dimension to being intimidated by your partner’s mother.

  Cass sighed. ‘Let me have something to eat and then I’m all yours. Mum, I will have some breakfast. Something tells me I’m going to need it.’

  Twenty minutes later they were in his car on the way back to Fairfield. His phone buzzed, signalling an incoming text message. He tossed it to her. ‘Can you have a quick look?’

  ‘It’s a message from Phil. It says, “We’ve got him, on our way back now.”’

  Ed nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Cass asked.

  He nodded again, staring at the road ahead.

  The trip passed in silence. Ed pulled into the car park and was out of the car before Cass had a chance to unbuckle her seatbelt. He was hell-bent on getting inside; she felt the exact opposite. She reluctantly opened the door and got out. He strode off and she had to almost run to keep up with him. He led her through the squad room and straight to Sorenson’s office. Knocking on the door, he barely waited for a reply before he barged in with Cass puffing along behind.

  ‘Sit down.’

  Cass slid obediently into a chair. Ed remained standing.

  ‘Miss Lehman has agreed to do an unofficial ID,’ he said.

  Sorenson threw Cass a brief smile and nod before focusing on Ed.

  ‘I’ve just got off the phone. Your third vic, the missing PR rep? The McLaren Vale station had her diary in their evidence file. She attended a lifestyle expo three months before she disappeared.’

  ‘So that’s three out of six now.’

  ‘Yes, I have Samuels trying to get the list of stallholders to check for your suspect. Phil is phoning all of Janet Hodgson’s colleagues again as we speak to see if anyone can remember her attending an expo or something similar.’

  Ed paced back and forth in front of Sorenson’s desk. There was something frightening about the intensity radiating from him.

  ‘You need to stay here while they bring the suspect in. I don’t want you to move a muscle until he’s in one of the interview rooms. Understood?’

  ‘I have to see him.’

  Sorenson sighed. ‘You shouldn’t even be in the same building. You can view him briefly once he’s in the room. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I don’t need you to come.’

  ‘It’s not open for debate. Cass, thank you for coming, you can wait here while I take Detective Dyson around. When we come back I’ll arrange for one of the detectives to take you to the room so you can see the suspect.’

  ‘Will he be able to see me?’ Cass felt nauseous at the thought.

  ‘No, you’ll be looking at him through one-way glass.’

  Sorenson’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and had a brief, monosyllabic conversation.

  ‘He’s here. Let’s go, Ed.’

  They left, shutting the door behind them. Cass sat there, feeling strangely detached, like she was dreaming all o
f this and would suddenly wake up. The door opened. She turned around expecting it to be Ed and Natalia.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was in here,’ the officer said, smiling at her. ‘Are you the psychic?’

  ‘Um, yes, I guess so,’ Cass said, uncomfortable with the label.

  ‘I’m Senior Constable Samuels. What’s your name again? DI Sorenson mentioned it this morning but I’m terrible with names.’

  ‘Cass, Cass Lehman.’

  ‘That’s right, pleased to meet you, Miss Lehman, I’ll just leave this file. See you around.’

  He plonked a file on Sorenson’s desk and ducked back out again. Cass was still thinking about her new title when Sorenson came back in with another officer.

  ‘Cass, this is Detective Byrnes. He’ll take you around to the interview room now.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, Miss Lehman. This way please.’

  She followed him out of the office and down a corridor to a room at the end. There was a large glass window and behind it, Cass could see a man being interviewed by Detective Steiner and another police officer in a suit. She studied the man sitting opposite the two officers. He was in his thirties with brown hair. He was ordinary looking, average height. He fitted the description she’d given Ed. It could be him.

  ‘Can I hear him talk?’

  ‘Why do you need to hear him talk?’ Detective Byrnes asked.

  ‘Because I will never forget the killer’s voice,’ she said simply.

  Byrnes hesitated for a few seconds, scrutinising her expression. Then he reached over and flicked a switch on the wall. A small speaker crackled into life and they could hear what was being said.

  ‘Can you remember where you were last Monday night?’ Rawlinson asked.

  ‘Monday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I was at home.’

  ‘Can anyone confirm that?’

  ‘No, I live by myself.’

  The man had a deep, husky voice. It was different from the higher pitched, almost feminine voice she’d heard in her visions. It wasn’t the same man. Cass turned to Detective Byrnes.

  ‘It’s not him.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘He sounds nothing like the man in my visions.’

  ‘But he matches the description you gave.’

  ‘He looks similar but it’s not him. I’m sorry.’

  ‘This man was at expos that two, maybe three of the victims attended. Are you absolutely sure?’

  ‘I am.’

  Byrnes led her back to Sorenson’s office. Ed was there, waiting. He looked so brittle he could snap. He looked at her first, then at Byrnes. Byrnes shook his head and then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ed.’

  He said nothing, staring out the window at the grey winter’s day. It looked like the colour had been stripped out of everything.

  ‘You could be wrong.’ He ground the words out through clenched teeth.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Does being a psychic mean that you’re never wrong?’ He turned his gaze on her and she was startled by the animosity she saw there. He was really angry.

  ‘That’s a shame, Cass, we were all pretty hopeful,’ Sorenson said.

  She looked at them both, not sure what to say. ‘I’d like to go home now.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ Ed said. He strode out of the office and once again she was left to run along behind him. She couldn’t help wondering how someone who’d been so sensitive and caring the day before could turn into such a schmuck today.

  The drive home was just as tense as the drive in. They sat in icy silence. She could feel the hostility radiating from him. She watched the passing scenery, feeling miserable and more than a bit annoyed. He was the one who’d wanted her help and this was how he thanked her? It wasn’t her fault that they had the wrong person.

  He pulled into her driveway and sat there with the car running.

  ‘I’m not wrong,’ Cass said quietly.

  He turned on her. ‘Everything points to this guy. While you were with Detective Byrnes we got confirmation that the same guy was at the expo the third vic went to as well. It’s got to be him.’

  ‘It’s not him. You need to look again.’

  ‘So we’re supposed to ignore a suspect who looks prime for this just on your say-so?’ he yelled.

  ‘Do what you think you need to, but the killer’s still out there,’ she snapped.

  ‘You’re wrong.’

  She got out of the car and slammed the door. He reversed out of the driveway and sped off in a cloud of exhaust fumes. Cass stood there staring after him.

  CHAPTER

  24

  He drove his van into the car park. He was early but it was important that he got a good spot. This fair wasn’t as well organised as the bigger expos and they hadn’t pre-allocated sites. Ideally he would get a spot where he could see the people approaching him. That way he could do some spruiking. It was hard work being chatty with complete strangers. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that the next person who walked over could be the one. It was like a treasure hunt.

  The stall he chose was in an excellent spot. He couldn’t believe that no one else had snapped it up. The fair had been set up in a U-shape with tables and chairs and a stage in a central green area. His stall gave him a perfect view of people approaching from all directions. As a bonus he was close to a coffee stall. He would be able to talk to people who were standing in the queue waiting for their coffee.

  He had an hour and a half until the fair opened. It probably wouldn’t get busy until about lunchtime. Luckily it was a clear day. For the first time in almost a week the rain had subsided and the sky was a pale wintery blue. He wandered over to the coffee stall and turned on his most charming smile.

  ‘Good morning!’

  The woman running it had her back to him sorting through boxes of cups and unloading them. She turned around, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  ‘I’m running the iridology stall next door.’

  ‘Iridology, hey? That doesn’t sound very medieval to me,’ she said, smiling.

  She was probably in her thirties. She had a nose ring and a tattoo on her neck. Her hair was dyed that unnatural shade of jet black that made anyone over twenty look much older than they were. Not the sort of woman he liked.

  ‘Oh, you’d be surprised. It’s a very ancient art, its origins date back almost eight hundred years.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know.’

  ‘I don’t suppose your coffee machine is up and running yet? I’m frozen. I could really use a hot drink.’ He smiled again.

  ‘I think I could manage one cup. I’ll even do it gratis if you’ll do a quick reading for me before all the punters get here.’ She gave him a broad smile, showing a set of teeth that would have benefitted from a trip to the orthodontist.

  ‘You’ve got yourself a deal. Come and sit down and I’ll have a quick look and jot down any areas you need to focus on.’ He walked back to his stall and she followed.

  ‘Sit over there. I need to turn a light on so I can see your irises better.’

  She took a seat and he sat down opposite her. He switched on the light and looked at her eyes. He was so startled he almost exclaimed out loud. She registered his surprised expression.

  ‘What? Is it something serious?’

  ‘No, you have really unusual eyes. Did you know that only about fifteen per cent of the population have green eyes?’

  ‘No, but people always say my eyes are my best feature.’ A slight blush coloured her cheeks.

  ‘They’d be right. I see lots of eyes but I don’t often see people with such beautiful green ones.’

  ‘Thanks.’ The blush deepened. ‘So what health issues do I have?’

 
‘I can see some issues with your circulation and there’s a mark in your left iris. Have you ever had issues with your kidneys?’

  ‘That’s amazing! I had lots of trouble with my kidneys as a kid. I also suffer from varicose veins. I can’t believe how spot-on you are! Is there anything else?’

  ‘Not much, you look pretty healthy. You need to make sure you limit your intake of fatty and acidic foods, but other than that you have a clean bill of health. Do you want me to jot it down on a chart for you?’

  ‘No, I can remember it.’

  ‘If you get a chance come back later and I’ll do a full reading and chart for you.’

  ‘Thanks. You’d better come over and get your coffee.’

  ‘Sorry, I’ve forgotten your name?’

  ‘Lucy.’

  ‘I’m Brian.’

  He followed her over to her stall. His heart was pounding and he was so excited he could barely contain the energy flooding through him. She was perfect. Those eyes were the closest to Ginny’s that he had ever seen. He wanted to shove her into the back of his van and drive away. Of course he couldn’t. He was going to have to slog it through the day. It would be a complete waste of time and energy. He didn’t know how he would manage it. Still, at least he could console himself that he’d found a match. What luck! Now he and Ginny would be able to celebrate their anniversary after all.

  He realised that Lucy was waiting, looking at him expectantly.

  ‘Sorry, did you say something?’

  ‘Gee, Brian, you looked like you were a million miles away. I asked what sort of coffee you wanted.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m still half asleep. It’s a bit early for me. I’ll have a latte please.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Are you from around here, Lucy?’

  ‘Yeah, Willunga, a local born and bred.’

  ‘Are you into the medieval stuff?’

  ‘No, not really. I just sell coffee, although I’d really like to see the jousting. Don’t think I’ll get a chance though. It’s in the next field and I doubt I’ll get away.’

  ‘What do you do when you’re not selling coffee?’

  ‘Are you trying to crack on to me, Brian?’ She said it jokingly but there was a slight edge to her voice. He decided he’d better back off. He’d obviously pushed too much.