“But I do. I don’t want to waste more time with Fabio if it’s going to go nowhere,” Lizzie said, looking up momentarily from her book. “And you should look into it, too. Let’s face it, if you were psychic, you would have made your wedding gown in your groom’s size seeing he split all the pearl buttons when he got stuck in it.” Lizzie giggled.
“Hmph!” Marina took down the chopping board, pulled out a sharp knife from the kitchen drawer and started dicing a carrot with such intensity the pieces spun off the board. “Don’t start on about Tony. It’s not his fault he’s a cross-dresser.”
“So post him a pair of Manolo shoes. I doubt they have them where you come from. He’ll be thrilled.”
“I mean it, Lizzie,” Marina warned, waving the knife dramatically. “I loved that man. Maybe I just didn’t love him enough.”
“The point is you wouldn’t have dated him in the first place if you were psychic,” Lizzie said. “You must have lost your knack since camp, you sure were intuitive then. The book says psychic abilities can be developed and if anyone needs to develop their psychic abilities, it’s you. Let’s face it, you don’t have any judgment in men and it’s time you did.”
Marina turned on her. “You can talk. What about Fabio and his you-know-what problem? He’s destroying your confidence. You haven’t been happy with your appearance from the moment you met him.”
Lizzie looked at her calmly. “Exactly. If I can develop my psychic powers I’ll know more about people and I won’t make mistakes like choosing a man who loves Big Boobs Magazine more than me, and you won’t be attracted to cross-dressers.”
Marina attacked the pepper, determined not to discuss the issue further.
“Now, all I need is a dark bowl, some candles and a quiet dark place to develop my powers.” Lizzie gave Marina a meaningful glance. “If you’re not interested in joining me, I’ll search around for the things I need and go scry in the living room.” Despite her words, Lizzie didn’t move.
Putting down the knife, Marina opened a kitchen cupboard and reached for the wok. The back of her eyes burnt and she couldn’t help getting upset. Lizzie had hit a nerve. “Why is it that men have this secret life?”
“That was a life lesson for you. You escaped. You passed.”
Marina glanced over at the kitchen table where Lizzie kept a stack of magazines. Lying on top was a Street Cred magazine. Its pink heading screamed ‘Life tests: Will you pass?’
“Lizzie!” Marina reached for some celery and commenced chopping.
“The trouble with you is that you look for the good in everyone.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Marina asked, sensing criticism in Lizzie’s tone.
“You’re way too trusting and you only look on the surface. You need to open your mind more. Explore. Learn to read between the lines.” Lizzie stood and opened a cupboard, clinking the china as she shifted it around. “Wouldn’t you know it? Not one black bowl. No matter. The book says I can fill the bowl with water and use ink. I’ll just have to extract some ink out of a pen.”
“I just said I don’t want to know the future. That’s all.”
“Forget I said anything,” said Lizzie. “I don’t want to upset you.”
Marina stopped. “No. Talk to me. I want to know what’s on your mind.” She placed one hand on her hip. Waiting.
Lizzie stopped and seemed uncertain as to go on. “When we were growing up and did all those summer camps together, you used to try everything. You don’t get any joy out of trying new things like you used to. You won’t try online dating. You won’t even send an email. You’re scared of life. You’re frozen. I reckon Tony did that to you.” Lizzie gathered up a pen, a bowl, some candles and retreated from the kitchen leaving Marina, knife in hand, staring at her mutilated vegetables.
Except she wasn’t in the mood to cook anymore. Lizzie was right. Since her break up the only way she could cope with her fragility was to play life safe. She felt scared of her future when she should be embracing it, making a new one. Marina put down the knife and marched down the hall. “Hang on, Lizzie. I’m coming to scry,” she called out. “Not that I believe in it,” she muttered.
Lizzie grinned at her like a pixie, her spiked blond hair standing on end. “Great. That’s the Marina I know and love. In that case we need a bigger bowl so we can both look in it.” She skipped up the hall into the kitchen, upended the fruit bowl, returned with it filled with water and placed it on the living room floor.
“So, why is it so important that I do this with you?” Marina asked.
“I think it’s creepy doing this on my own.”
Marina pulled her hair band off her wrist and tied her wavy hair back. “And you call me scared? Luckily I don’t believe in this stuff.”
“Can you close the blinds? We’re supposed to have a dark room,” Lizzie said as she moved around preparing the room by lighting candles and incense. “James is going to hate coming home tonight. He can’t bear the smell of incense. I think it reminds him of when our parents used to hold love-in sessions.”
“Love-in sessions?”
“Don’t ask. I was too young to know what was going on, but James crept out of his bedroom and never got over what he saw. I’m certain that was what shocked him into conventionality for the rest of his life. He started training in Tae Kwon Do after that because he knew Dad would hate it. I think it was his way of rebelling.” Lizzie took the ink tube out of her pen. “Now, all I have to do is get the end off this, so I can pour the ink into the water to make it black.”
Marina watched Lizzie pull hard at the end of the pen so that the nib broke off and black ink splashed onto her face and hand. She grabbed a tissue off the mantlepiece. “Here,” she said, holding it out to Lizzie. “Wipe your face before the ink dries.”
Lizzie wiped the ink managing to smear it across her face so that she looked like a strange creature emerging from the sea.
“You’ve made it worse.”
“Never mind. Let’s get started,” Lizzie said, dripping ink from the broken pen so that the water went cloudy then black. “I’ll scrub my face when I cleanse tonight. Now, turn the overhead light off, will you?”
Marina did as she was asked.
“Okay, what we have to do is put our palms onto the sides of the bowl and stare into the water,” Lizzie instructed.
Marina sat opposite Lizzie, her palms touching the sides of the bowl. She stared into the water.
“The book says we have to breathe deeply and imagine a white light coming from our hands, going through the bowl and taking all the negative energies away,” Lizzie whispered although Marina had no idea why Lizzie was whispering.
“What am I supposed to be looking for?” whispered Marina who also didn’t know why she, herself, was whispering.
“Signs.” Lizzie nodded her head, looking more imp-like than sage-like as she did so.
Marina considered this for a moment. “What sort of signs?”
“I don’t know. You’re projecting imagery from within. Symbols, I guess.” Lizzie leaned forward peering into the inky blackness in the bowl. “Argh!”
Marina jerked her hands away. “What! What happened? What did you see?”
“An eye. A big white eye,” Lizzie wailed. “It filled the whole bowl.”
Marina leaned forward, looked into the bowl then up above her. “That’s not an eye. That’s a reflection of the light globe above us.”
Lizzie looked upwards. “Oh, so it is. Sorry. It scared me.” Her face looked contrite.
“Sheesh, Lizzie,” Marina muttered. “And you said I was scared to try new things.”
“Let’s move the bowl over. I can’t scry while that big light globe overhead is reflecting in the water.”
The girls resettled themselves. Marina placed her hands on the bowl and breathed deeply. She could feel Lizzie’s fingertips lightly touching hers, her touch comforting. She imagined white light flowing from her fingers through the bowl. With every deep breath, she r
elaxed as she stared into the inky water. Strangely, the colour of the water changed to a pale yellow, then back to black. “The water is changing colour,” Marina said, her voice low.
Noise from outside the apartment faded away as she concentrated on her breathing. Shapes grew in the water though there was nothing she could discern, just clouds of gray. She looked deeply through the water, her gaze slightly off center. And then she saw it. A shape moving in the water as it began to take human form. Was it a man or a woman? Moving closer, she stared deeper into the blackness.
Her throat tightened. The figure mover closer. A man. A foreboding sense of evil filled her. The killer. She knew it. He is looking for his next victim. She gave out a sharp hiss of breath.
“I can’t see anything,” complained Lizzie. “Not a sausage. And my eyes hurt.”
At the sound of Lizzie’s voice, the figure disappeared leaving an inky blackness.
Marina jerked backward sucking in air. She rose, raced to the doorway and turned on the light. “I saw a shape.” She touched her throat massaging the bony ridges beneath the skin.
“That’s not fair,” Lizzie said. “You saw something and you don’t even believe in this stuff. I’m the spiritual, psychic one and I didn’t see a thing.”
Marina sank onto the sofa, glad to feel its softness under her weight. “I saw a man.”
“Ha! Your next love.”
“No, Lizzie. It wasn’t like that at all.” Marina was about to explain further when she heard the key being fitted into their apartment door.
“I told you I don’t know anything,” James said, opening the door to the apartment. His face wore a deep frown.
Who was he talking to? “Hi,” Marina called out, glad to see him. There was something solid and calming about James. He was always so sweet to her. Always asked her about her day after work. Made her a cup of coffee in the morning and brought it into her bedroom. She loved being around him, enjoyed his banter with Lizzie, but from the expression on his face, he clearly wasn’t in the mood for jokes now.
“Hey, James,” Lizzie said, getting to her feet to greet her brother. “We’re scrying.”
“Not now, Lizzie.” James’s voice was so sharp that Lizzie jumped and her welcoming smile dissolved.
Marina had never heard James be so sharp with Lizzie, not even when she was probing into his love life; then she saw the reason why. Following behind James were the police.
Chapter 4
Two policemen followed James into the apartment. One of them, who introduced himself as Detective Davis, was heavyset with a pugnacious face. The other, Detective Herbert, was tall and wiry.
Marina felt their gaze needle her, then saw them look at Lizzie who stood staring back at them. Lizzie still had ink smeared over her face. She looked strange. Marina saw the expression on the policemen’s faces as they checked Lizzie out.
She glanced around the room with its flickering candles and pungent incense still smoking. On the floor the scrying bowl sat full of inky water reflecting the light of the candles. Next to it laid the book on witchcraft. This couldn’t look good.
“We just have a few routine questions regarding the homicide at Pier One on Saturday evening,” said Detective Davis to James.
James frowned and looked at his sister. “Lizzie, clean this stuff up. And clean your face.” He strode over to the windows and pushed them open. “I can’t stand the smell of incense.”
James turned to Detective Davis. “I don’t know anything about the murder.”
“You were there,” Detective Davis said.
James shifted from foot to foot and even to Marina he looked like he was hiding something. “I was meeting a date. It’s not a crime to date.”
Detective Davis took out a pad from inside his jacket. “The woman’s name?”
“Didn’t work out,” James said.
Marina couldn’t blame James for not wanting to discuss his date, but his tone was far from friendly. In fact it was downright rude.
“Lizzie, I told you. Clean this mess up,” James ordered.
Lizzie and Marina began to snuff out the candles and incense. Detective Herbert bent and picked up the book on witchcraft off the floor. His eyes narrowed as he read the title. “This yours?” he asked Lizzie.
She took the book from him then pressed it to her chest.
“Witchcraft,” he said and glanced at the other policeman.
“Wicca,” Lizzie corrected.
“Not now, Lizzie,” James said.
“Come on,” Marina said. “Let’s give James some space.”
“It’s white magic,” Lizzie said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Plenty of good can come out of wicca magic. Did you know that fifteen percent of Australian women have tried some form of wicca magic?”
“Lizzie!” James shouted.
Lizzie jumped and stared at James in surprise.
“I said not now.”
Marina, too, was surprised at James’s tone, but she also knew how protective he was.
Armed with incense and candles, Marina started to usher Lizzie from the room.
“Stay,” Detective Davis said.
Lizzie stopped and turned so quickly that Marina nearly bumped into her.
“They don’t know anything about the murder. Marina was at home and Lizzie was on a date. You don’t need to question them,” James said.
“That will be for us to decide,” Detective Davis said. He looked at them. “You have no objection to assisting us in this case by answering a few routine questions,” he said, more a statement than a question.
“I suppose not,” Marina said, before quietly taking a seat.
“Not at all,” Lizzie replied eagerly, plopping herself down on the sofa.
“Just great.” James groaned and sat in an armchair. Both policemen looked at him sharply.
Marina’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt guilty, and from looking at James’s angry expression, the police were obviously having an effect on him. All the things she could have done came to mind. Perhaps she should have gone down to the station and volunteered what she knew about her client, Adele. She was certain it was all about to come out, especially as Lizzie was straining dangerously forward on her seat.
“Information has come to light that indicates you were near the crime scene,” Detective Davis said to James. “You were seen hanging over the railings at the end of Pier One, looking as if you were searching for something.”
“Or someone,” Detective Herbert added.
“I was at Sebelles restaurant. I heard a woman scream and I thought someone needed help, so I stood up and looked around, but I didn’t see anything. That’s all I can tell you.”
“My report has it…” Detective Davis looked at his notepad. “Possible witness was seen to leave restaurant location at the approximate time of the murder.”
James stiffened in his chair. “I told you I didn’t see a thing.”
“Is there anyone who can verify your story?” Detective Davis asked.
“No!” James said.
“The manager of Sebelles said you had a booking for two,” Detective Herman pressed.
James’s eyes widened as he stared at him. “My date didn’t show.”
Marina shot James a sympathetic glance. He was a terrible liar, but she understood his embarrassment. He was very conservative and wouldn’t want to own up to dating his mother, but surely in these circumstances he should say so.
“So you were meeting someone,” Detective Davis said.
“A date,” James muttered not looking at him. “As I said, she didn’t show.”
“Why was that?” asked Detective Herman.
“I don’t know... I didn’t know her... It was an online date.”
Marina clenched her knees together in embarrassment for James. She bit her lower lip. This was sounding worse by the second.
“I see.” The detective looked at James keenly. “We have information that the victim was als
o meeting an online date that evening.”
“Thirty three percent of Sydney residents under thirty have tried online dating,” Lizzie butted in.
“It wasn’t me,” James said. “I wasn’t dating her.”
Marina could see perspiration beading on his forehead. He glared at the policemen as if challenging them.
“You seem very certain of this.”
“Dead certain,” James growled.
Marina flinched. Not such a good choice of words. He looked like a caged panther. All dark and angry. Perhaps she should jump in and give him some help. “He wasn’t dating Adele,” Marina said. “I knew Adele. In fact, I spoke to her about her date.”
Detective Herman exchanged glances with Detective Davis. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Detective Davis said.
“And you are?” Detective Herman inquired.
“Marina Henry. James and Lizzie’s flatmate. I work at Salon City on Darlinghurst Road as a beautician. I did Adele’s wax job and she told me about her date so I know it wasn’t James.”
“Did you get a name?”
“No. I’m sorry. I just knew she was meeting him at Pier One and going dancing if she liked the look of him.”
“Then how do you know she wasn’t meeting your flatmate?” Detective Davis asked. “The meeting place is the same.”
It was a fair question and Marina thought for a moment about how she was going to answer it. “Because James is a fantastic man.” She stopped and looked at him.
His face softened as he looked at her, light shone in his gorgeous green eyes.
She could feel her heart starting to beat faster. These cops had it so wrong. She turned her attention back to them. “This man she was meeting...” Marina paused, trying to think of an explanation that would help James. “I don’t know. He wasn’t decent. I didn’t like the sound of him at all. I told her not to go.”
“What exactly did she say?” Detective Herman questioned.
Marina tried to think. She had seen so many clients over the week, all with their different stories. “It wasn’t really what she said. It’s just that she didn’t know this man, but I got the impression he was expecting sex. It just didn’t sound right to me.”
Dirty Sexy Murder Page 4
