Sapphire Falls

by Fleur McDonald

  ‘Hey, sweetie.’ Kim smiled at him from behind the counter, her face red.

  He leaned across and kissed her. ‘Been cooking chips?’ he asked.

  She patted her face. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘Only to me. You look beautiful. I need a favour.’

  ‘And here I was thinking you’d come to visit because you love me.’

  ‘That, too. Can you get on Facebook and search something for me?’

  ‘Sure, just let me put these chips in the warmer.’

  A few minutes later she came out of the kitchen with two coffees, and her iPad under her arm. She opened the Facebook app and looked at him. ‘What name?’

  ‘Try Roslyn Willoughby.’

  After a pause, she said, ‘There’re a few hits; do you know what she looks like?’

  Dave rubbed his forehead. ‘Is there one who lives in South Australia?’

  Scrolling through, Kim shook her head. ‘Not that I can see. There’s one in Victoria and two in Queensland. Are you sure she lives in SA?’

  That stopped Dave. ‘Actually, there’s no reason for her to be in South Australia,’ he agreed. ‘Can I have a look?’

  Kim swung the iPad around and showed him how to open each profile. ‘But she could have shifted back here and not updated her “About Me” section,’ said Kim. ‘The information on Facebook isn’t foolproof.’

  ‘Good point.’ He started to search through a couple of friends lists and didn’t see any names that linked up to the ones they’d been talking about.

  His phone rang. Looking at the screen, he saw it was Jack.

  ‘What have you got?’

  ‘I’m really not sure. I don’t know how it links together, but there’s a Roslin—it’s spelled weird—Willoughby who was murdered earlier this year. She was a prostitute in Hindley Street and she was found in an alleyway. She’d been strangled.’

  ‘Did they arrest anyone?’

  ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘Who was her family? Did you pull the file?’

  ‘I’ve just requested it.’

  ‘Okay, good work, Jack. Just spell her name for me? And have you got her DOB there?’

  Jack gave him the information and they both hung up.

  ‘We’re so close,’ Dave muttered. ‘I can feel it.’

  ‘I spoke to Fiona today,’ said Kim. ‘She’s much brighter.’

  ‘Great,’ Dave answered distractedly as he slowly typed Roslin’s name into the Facebook search bar.

  ‘You know, that Rob, he seems such a lovely bloke. I wonder if he’s married.’

  That got Dave’s attention. He looked up. ‘Now don’t you go playing Cupid. That poor girl has so much on her plate; a romance shouldn’t be on the cards.’

  ‘Maybe not, but he’s strong and stable. And gentle. I think that’s exactly what Fiona needs. If it leads to something else, then …’ She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and gave him a pouty smile.

  ‘Her husband isn’t cold in his grave!’ Dave stared at her, astounded. ‘She’s going to have a baby!’

  ‘Hey! I’m not saying anything other than he’s lovely and she might appreciate a lovely friend about now.’

  ‘You’re incorrigible!’ He pulled her close and kissed her, his lips lingering on hers. ‘That’s why I love you. Now go away, I have to look for something.’ He tapped her affectionately on the bum as she walked back to the kitchen.

  Turning his attention back to the screen, he looked at the profiles that had been brought up by his search.

  He tapped on the first one and read the status. Hanging for Brissy tonight, who’s up for shots?

  He hit the return button and looked down the list of people there. The third one looked interesting—a girl with long black hair and dark, Gothic-looking makeup.

  He noticed she hadn’t written on her wall for a while, but other people had.

  RIP, Ros. The first entry said.

  Rossie, how’m I gonna cope without u? Miss u already xxx.

  The next one made him sit back: Rossie, my baby sister, how could this have happened? I’m devo with sadness, my love, my life. Fly with the angels.

  ‘Kim? How do I …’

  ‘Huh?’ She stuck her head back through the open doorway.

  ‘I want to look at this girl. The one who wrote this. How do I do that?’

  ‘Tap on her name. It should take you through to her page.’

  He stabbed at it, wishing he could hear a click or something to make him know it had worked. As he watched and waited, the page finally opened.

  She didn’t have much on her wall either, but it said on the sidebar that her sister was Roslin Willoughby (dec). Dave’s gut told him that it had to be this woman who had called.

  Reading the page, he found a tab for ‘About’ so he clicked on that.

  Checkout chick at Woolworths.

  Likes movies.

  Went to Salisbury Senior High school.

  Chelsea Milton, thirty-two.

  Because I’ve been her. What does that mean? He closed his eyes and thought.

  ‘Okay, I think I’ve found her,’ Dave said without preamble. ‘Do a search on Chelsea Milton. She’s thirty-two and lives in Adelaide somewhere. I need to make a phone call.’

  ‘Wait, how …’ Jack looked at him, his mouth hanging open.

  ‘Facebook.’

  Getting out his notebook, he looked for Geoff’s phone number and punched it into his phone.

  After introducing himself, he asked Geoff the question that had been burning in his brain for the last few hours. ‘Did you know anything about Charlie lending Leigh a gun?’

  He answered slowly. ‘Yeah, I reckon I do. I seem to remember it had something to do with him putting down a cow.’ He paused. ‘Like, you’d know, Leigh didn’t have many guns, just the .22 for rabbits.’

  ‘Okay, do you know when he gave it back?’

  ‘Hell.’

  Dave wanted to ask what, but he stayed silent.

  ‘Reckon I heard a conversation on the back of the ute that night. Something about Leigh having brought a gun with him, so he could give it back to Charlie. Don’t know if he was shooting with that gun or the shotgun Charlie had with him. Pretty sure he was shooting with that gun, too, ’cause Charlie had his big gun, the .303. I don’t remember seeing a .22. Was there a .22 registered to Leigh?’

  ‘There was.’

  ‘Ah. Well, maybe I’ve got that wrong.’

  Or maybe that was the decoy.

  More questions burned in Dave’s head. Why did Leigh borrow a gun when Eddie worked for him and he had guns?

  Chapter 34

  Jo came into the hospital room carrying a box of chocolates and two coffees. She moved slowly and it was clear that she was sore.

  ‘Morning,’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ Fiona looked up, trying to work her mouth into a smile. It wasn’t easy. She still didn’t know who had Charlie’s ashes, but she did know that her baby was safe. That was probably all that mattered at the moment. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out in the paddocks working out how to kill insects!’ She extended her arms. ‘It’s lovely to see you.’

  Jo bent down to give her a hug, obviously stiff, despite her efforts to pretend otherwise.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ She put the chocolates on the table and sat on the edge of the bed, handed Fiona the takeaway cup and took a sip of her own.

  ‘Exhausted. Drained, disappointed, sad. Empty. I don’t know. All that.’ She looked down and rubbed the edge of the sheet between two fingers.

  ‘Where’s your mum?’

  ‘She’s gone out to the farm to get me some clothes. Not sure why, none of them fit me. Guess I’d be better off buying some maternity ones now. Never thought I’d get to that stage. Even when I found out I was pregnant!’ She watched her friend through tired eyes. ‘What’s up with you?’

  Jo took another sip of coffee and avoided her stare.

  ‘What?’ The fear in Fiona’s voice mad
e Jo start.

  She swallowed hard and then lifted her head. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  Fiona froze.

  Getting up to shut the door, she slowly took off her jumper and shirt, then turned around. Her back was covered in whip marks and bruises. She had rope burns on her wrists and there were finger marks on the skin of her upper arms.

  Fiona couldn’t say anything. She gasped and blinked, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘Oh my God, Jo, who did this to you? Will you tell me? Or at least promise me you won’t go near him again.’ Her voice was soft but intense.

  ‘Leigh. It was Leigh.’

  ‘Leigh? What?’

  Jo gulped and put her shirt back on. ‘I’ve been seeing him for about six months, hoping it was going to go somewhere. At first he was lovely, attentive and sweet. The way you see him in public. But, Fee, he has an awful side. It’s almost like he has two personalities.’ She touched her arm and pointed. ‘When he first broached the subject of tying me up, I thought it would be a turn-on, you know?’

  Fiona wanted to recoil, tell her she didn’t see anything arousing about it, but she kept her face neutral and listened.

  ‘But it started to get more violent as time went on. And now this.’ Tears started to stream down her face. ‘And here you are, laid up in hospital and had all this appalling stuff happen to you and I’m crying over a few bruises.’

  ‘Hey, hey, it doesn’t matter. It’s okay. We’ll get this sorted.’ Fiona reached out and tried to hug her friend, but Jo pulled away. ‘Do you want to do anything about it? Report him?’

  ‘I don’t know. If I do, he might make things a lot worse for me. He did threaten that once. Said if I told anyone what he liked, he’d make sure that no one believed me. Look at him. He’s the head of the community. Everyone loves him, respects him. He’s the bloke you go to when you need help. And look how he’s looked after you since Charlie died—always making sure you’ve had help when you needed it.’

  ‘But if you’ve got the bruises … They take photos, he can’t deny it.’

  Jo let out a hard bark of laughter through her tears. ‘Oh, Fee, I love you, but you are so naive. Of course he can deny it. No one has seen him lay a finger on me. In fact, no one has seen him with me. It would only be my word against his. He’ll make up some story about why I’ve got it in for him. He rejected my advances or something. That’s the sort of bloke he actually is. Cold and calculating.’ She sniffed and wiped her hand across her nose.

  Fiona looked around for some tissues and handed them to her. ‘Dave will help you, I’m sure,’ she said softly. ‘If that’s what you want to do. How have you managed to keep this under wraps for so long? There are never any secrets in this town. Everyone knows everything about everyone.’

  Jo shrugged. ‘We were careful. I’d wait until after dark before I went to his place. He never came to mine. It’s easier to hide things when you’re on a farm than when you live in town.’

  They were silent until the nurse walked in.

  ‘Just need to check your obs, love,’ she said, and wheeled the monitor over to Fiona. ‘Finger?’ She placed the clip on her finger to monitor the oxygen and strapped on the arm cuff. ‘How’s bub doing in there? Moving around a bit?’

  ‘I think he’s trying out for the Olympics,’ Fiona said with a grimace. ‘I never realised they moved so much.’

  ‘Regular little Energizer bunnies,’ the nurse said with a laugh.

  Glancing over at Jo, Fiona asked, ‘When is Scott due in?’

  The nurse checked the watch hanging from her chest. ‘I’d say in about fifteen minutes. He’s usually here just before he has to open his surgery. He’ll certainly be in to check on you. You gave us all a bit of a scare.’

  ‘I gave myself one.’

  The nurse looked down at her fondly. ‘You’re going to be fine.’ She recorded the information. ‘Anyway, you’re all good. I’ll let you get on with your visit.’ She left the room, pushing the trolley in front of her.

  ‘I want you to see Scott. To show him. At least then it’s documented.’

  ‘No!’ Jo stood up and wrapped her arms around herself. ‘No. I can’t.’

  ‘Jo, I’m not going to let you walk around being frightened of Leigh. Only bullies do this sort of shit to women. This is abuse. I’m sure it’s loving in some people’s eyes, but not mine, and you know it’s not really. Please, please let Scott examine you.’

  ‘Let Scott do what?’ Scott asked as he entered the room.

  Jo looked like a deer caught in the spotlight.

  Scott narrowed his eyes. ‘What’s going on, ladies?’ he asked in a firm tone.

  ‘Please, Jo,’ Fiona pleaded.

  They waited and finally Jo raised the arm of her shirt and showed him her wrists.

  ‘Okay, we’ll get a room organised for you and you can tell me what happened,’ Scott said, his face impassive. ‘Wait there.’ He turned and left quickly.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Jo muttered. ‘What have I done?’

  ‘The right thing,’ Fiona said, trying to reassure her.

  Jack looked over at Dave with his mouth hanging open. ‘Murdered. You think Eddie and Charlie were murdered? By who?’

  ‘It’s all circumstantial. But I think Leigh Bounter.’

  Jack turned to examine the whiteboard. ‘Leigh Bounter, Leigh Bounter.’ He looked at his notes. ‘Leigh Jake Bounter.’ His head snapped up and he stared at Dave as the pieces began to fall into place. Loudly he said, ‘Leigh Jake Bounter. Do you see it?’ He stabbed at the whiteboard. Bounter Jake Leigh. BJL Holdings. That’s what we’ve been missing. That’s why it’s personal.’

  Dave stared at the board. ‘Yeah,’ he said slowly. ‘Yeah!’

  He jumped up and started writing on the board.

  ‘Okay, Leigh uses Charlie’s gun to somehow kill Eddie the night of the so-called accident. That in itself is going to be really hard to prove. And what’s also going to be hard to prove, at this point, is the fact that he killed Charlie as well. I’m guessing he somehow got him into the car to make it look like suicide. Then he comforted Fiona, made sure she was where he wanted her, and started spreading rumours about the sale of the farm. He’s the one who poisoned the sheep, stole the ashes. There’s the personal aspect. But how does this company fit in? Why do they want to buy her land?’

  ‘Now it goes back to what I was saying before. BJL Holdings wants to buy the land and on-sell it as soon as the mine starts sniffing around. He’ll make a squillion on it.’

  Dave nodded, pacing the floor. He turned and pointed a finger at Jack. ‘But how did he know it was coming and why is Fiona’s land so important? We’ve already established that it’s good, but there’s better land around.’

  ‘He’s the mayor. He’d know if there was a sniff of a mining company coming in, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘They keep those types of things under their hat until the land has been secured,’ Dave answered. ‘That’s going to be the question—how did he know?’ He rounded on Jack. ‘Did you get that warrant organised for the phone numbers?’

  ‘I’ve got it sitting here.’ Jack tapped a piece of paper.

  ‘Okay, you’ve got more to add to it. Let’s see if we can find a link between this Leah Kent and Bounter. All we’ve got at the moment is a heap of hunches and a bit of circumstantial evidence. We’re going to have to find more.’

  When the phone rang in Barker Police Station, Joan picked it up, then practically ran into Dave’s office.

  ‘It’s her. Ros Willoughby,’ she said, breathless.

  Dave shot up out of his seat. ‘Trace that call. If you get a position, see if someone in Adelaide can swing by and pick her up,’ he instructed Jack, who immediately grabbed the phone and called through to HQ to try to get a track.

  ‘Ros, how are you?’ Dave used his encouraging tone. ‘I’m really pleased you’ve called back. How are you doing today?’

  ‘Have you got anything for me on Fiona Forrest
that I can put in my story?’

  ‘Yeah, I do, but I’d really like to meet with you face-to-face, so I can give it to you. Can we meet?’

  There was another silence. Dave took a chance.

  ‘Chelsea, this is what you want, isn’t it?’ Dave lowered his voice. ‘You want us to know what happened to your sister, don’t you? We really want to help. Do you know something that will help us find your sister’s killer?’

  ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘We can protect you. Tell me where you are and I’ll send a car to pick you up.’

  ‘No! He’s too high up, he might be able to get someone to hurt me.’

  ‘Chelsea, I promise, whoever it is, we won’t let him hurt you. In fact, I’ll come and get you myself. Where are you?’

  The ticking of the clock seemed very loud while he waited for an answer.

  ‘Hunter Street, in Salisbury,’ she finally said.

  ‘Chelsea, I’m going to give you my mobile phone number. Do you have a pen?’ He indicated for Jack to get the car while he recited it. ‘Can I have yours?’

  In a hiccupping voice she gave her mobile number to him.

  ‘We’re coming to get you now.’

  Having bundled Chelsea safely into the car, Dave and Jack took her to HQ in Adelaide.

  ‘My sister, she wasn’t an angel, I know that. She lived around the place, always working the streets, then I finally convinced her to come home to Adelaide. I always said she could come and stay with me, that I’d look after her, but she wouldn’t. She had a disability, you know? She was a bit simple, but she was beautiful. Men loved her.

  ‘But one night, he picked her up. In a bar. I was there and I saw it happen. Sometimes I’d do that. Go to where she was working to make sure she was safe. I saw her go with him. And the next thing she was dead.

  ‘I’ve searched for ages, trying to find him. I’ve hung out in bars and looked—I always knew I’d recognise him if I saw him again. His hands—they weren’t the sort of hands you’d see on an office worker. They were thick and dry and on the night I saw him they had cuts on them.