As she got into her own car her mobile pinged: there was a text message. From Marcie’s phone number.
I am all rite going to Sydney thank you for your kind help Marcellina Lavides
Well that was interesting. Firstly, because if Marcie couldn’t read English then she surely couldn’t write it. And then, she’d been a grief-stricken young woman in a strange country when Cass had seen her just a few days ago. Now it seemed she’d arranged a cremation she didn’t intend to be at, and had gone interstate. Cass decided she would chase up the location of this message in the morning and if it was Cairns, she would go to the address and see how Marcie really was.
At home she logged into the police database again as Denzel frisked about the room waiting for his walk. She was looking for the owner of the BMW. There it was: Blake Harrison, an address. This seemed familiar... Of course, she remembered, she’d seen him once in court when she’d been there giving police evidence. And... Jesus, she knew that address. She’d been there yesterday. He must be the husband of Meredith Harrison. So, not only cheating on his wife but also on his second squeeze—who wasn’t available this evening, seeing how she was on life support in Townsville. And he obviously knew the Mooroobool house.
***
Emily felt much better after talking to Erin. She got back on her bike and rode home to Scarlett’s house. Sally was at work, but she had left Emily a shepherd’s pie which she ate while completing her Japanese homework for the following day. Then she sat down at Sally’s unlisted landline with Erin’s list of numbers and began to call.
She started with Angela and, like Cass, found only voicemail from Shari. Three others had voicemail and promises to call back very soon—‘your call is really important to me’. Maria’s number had been disconnected. When she managed to get onto Anna, Felicia and Alesa, they all said, too quickly, that they didn’t know Marcie and couldn’t talk to Emily. Then they ended the call before she had a chance to question them further. Seven others hung up immediately they realised that Emily was not a potential client.
So that was no help. Emily got up and went and lay down on Scarlett’s bed. She felt lonely and miserable and cried softly to herself as she thought about her mother and the mess they were in. She decided not to call her again tonight, though—it would just upset both of them going over the same ground. Still lying on Scarlet’s bed hugging Scarlett’s old teddy bear, Emily fell into a deep sleep.
19
Cairns
Wednesday 29th August 2013
Cass and Drew met with Leslie Fernando in Cass’s office at eight the next morning. Cass filled Leslie in on what was known of Karen Moster’s case.
‘This happened at Meredith Harrison’s house?’ asked Leslie. ‘I know Meredith. She’s worked on quite a lot of criminal cases. She must know the Criminal Code backwards.’
‘Yes, that’s her,’ said Cass. ‘And she might need to know it. Moster had a condition that predisposed her to having a brain haemorrhage. The question is: did she fall because her blood pressure went up in the heat of the moment, thus causing the haemorrhage and then the fall? Or did Meredith Harrison push her? Again, in the heat of the moment. Thereby causing the aneurysm to burst.’
‘Forensics have found no evidence at all of any struggle taking place in the living room or anywhere else in the house,’ Drew said. ‘No blood. They’re checking DNA and prints and, undoubtedly, they’ll find Moster’s in some places. With the history the daughter gave, Moster had been all over the house in the past few weeks.’
‘Yes, it sounds almost like she was stalking both mother and daughter,’ Leslie said. ‘Subtly, using her car as bait for the girl.’
‘Yeah,’ said Drew. ‘It’s unfortunate that the daughter was out and there were no witnesses in the street. What’s more, the mother asked her daughter not to be there. Which won’t help her case.’
‘However, are you’re saying that this thing would have happened, anyway?’ asked Leslie.
‘Yes, it was a time bomb ready to go off.’
‘Just as well, then, that she hadn’t driven off onto the highway,’ Leslie ruminated. ‘Five minutes later and she might have killed herself and other innocent people.’
‘Yep,’ said Drew. ‘But the problem for us is the same as if she’d had no aneurysm: did she fall or was she pushed?’
‘No neighbours looking out the window just before she fell? And able to say if Meredith Harrison was on her veranda? Or not?’ Leslie asked.
‘We had men, yesterday, knocking on doors looking for witnesses. But most people were either at work or at school,’ Drew answered.
‘One thing,’ said Cass, ‘Meredith Harrison’s mobile seems to be missing. We asked her on Monday night and yesterday to hand it over so the text messages to and from her daughter could be read. She claimed she hasn’t been able find it, that it must be in the house. When it wasn’t found there on Monday, she said it could be in her car. But a search hasn’t turned it up there either. Wherever it is, it’s switched off and not locatable; we’ve checked that. Yet she claims she had it switched on last time she saw it.’
‘Is she at work at the moment?’
‘No, she’s having a few days off. I’m sure she needs them. And staying with a friend. The daughter’s staying with a schoolfriend of her own who happens to be the girl who found the body at the motel last week. Scarlett. Can you believe that? It’s been quite a week for the two of them.’ Cass had decided for the moment to say nothing about having seen Meredith’s husband at the Mooroobool address; like Gerry Rose he was doing nothing illegal, and he hadn’t got what he’d come for.
‘Well,’ said Leslie, ‘keep looking for that phone. That does seem a bit odd.’
‘I agree, it does. Drew said. ‘We’ve had men crawling under the house and right through the garden; they’ve been all over Meredith Harrison’s car, and there’s no sign of it.’
‘We need that phone and we need something more than Mrs Harrison’s word if we’re going to find that she has no case to answer, you know,’ Leslie said. ‘For assault and grievous bodily harm, very possibly.’
‘Yes, sir, Drew said. ‘We’ll keep on with it. And we’ll look at the call log anyway, through her service provider. And we’ll search the garden and under the steps and veranda again.’
‘And any progress on Rita?’ Leslie asked Cass.
‘I’m afraid not. I tried following two possible lines of inquiry from Rita’s neighbour. But when I went over the two things she told me that I thought were new, I found that Troy or Brisbane had already been there and discounted them.’
‘So, no evidence of an association between Rita and the girl in the motel? No promising clues to the serial-murderer theory?’
Drew shook his head. ‘No. We’ve been in touch with Sydney and Melbourne, and no sign of any Filipina women like the ones who seem to have passed through Cairns. But equally no evidence of Filipina women missing. Unless we get some kind of complaint or an actual missing person report, I don’t see that we can progress this.’
‘Well, I guess they’re all somewhere, probably part of the great cash economy, saving up enough to eventually go back home,’ Leslie concluded. ‘At any rate, the Taskforce is sending an officer up from Brisbane on Monday to look into whether there’s a syndicate operating out of the Philippines. You can tell him or her what you think about women possibly missing. They can look into that if they think it’s got legs. They’ll have good contacts for it.’
‘I also haven’t been able to locate Marcie, the cousin of the woman who died,’ Cass said. ‘I got a text from her yesterday saying she was going to Sydney. I’ve just had that located and it was sent from Cairns Central, which doesn’t help us. And as soon as I tried calling her back the phone call was rejected, then the phone switched off.
‘Plus, the funeral people tell us that she’s signed all the papers for cremation; a cremation that she’s not going to attend herself, although she seemed very distressed when I spoke with her last week
’
‘Well, it sounds like I was right,’ said Leslie. ‘She’s left town. That’s probably what they all do. They come here for a few months then head south to the big cities to make more money. Let the Taskforce look at it.’
***
When Leslie had gone back to his own office, Drew turned to Cass and muttered: ‘We’ve a snowball’s in hell of finding a witness. No one was home in that street except the man next door, Jim Richardson, who was in the shower after golf and saw and heard nothing. And god knows what’s happened to the phone.’
‘I can’t believe she’d try to conceal it,’ said Cass.
‘Could she have given it to the daughter when she was being driven down here on Monday night, do you think?’ Drew suggested.
‘Mmm... Why would she do that? Anyway, I’ll call her on her friend’s landline and let her know what the doctor’s told us. And ask her about the phone again, then. And I’ll tell her lawyer too.’
‘You’re not happy with the Marcie story, are you? That she’s just headed off to Sydney to find work there?’ Drew said.
‘No. I’ll wait a couple of days and then try that phone again. And maybe drop into the Mooroobool house too. See if she’s there, and if she’s not, if anybody else is. Sounds like that place is always more-or-less occupied.
***
Late that afternoon Meredith called Emily at Scarlett’s place and explained the operation findings as told to her by Cass.
‘It’s something we all learn about in first year law,’ she said, ‘but hardly ever use in practice. The eggshell skull story. Usually in connection with a murder, though thank Christ Karen’s still alive. A murder victim who’s hit over the head who wouldn’t have died from the blow except that his or her skull was as thin as an eggshell. Karen wouldn’t have got a haemorrhage from me slapping her face or even from falling down the steps, but she had the aneurysm and the argument raised her blood pressure, so it burst. It’s going to be up to the police to decide whether to charge me. They might feel they have no choice. If it went to court, with a decent barrister, which I’d definitely have, a jury is unlikely to convict. But it wouldn’t be any fun, that’s for sure.’
Emily burst into tears again. ‘Oh Mum, that’s awful. I don’t want you to go through all that.’
‘Oh, darling, I don’t want you worrying about me. Look, I’ll give that detective a call tomorrow morning and see if we can move back into the house tomorrow or Friday. Just you and me. Dad can stay where he is for the moment.’
Emily immediately stopped crying.
‘Oh, I think you should stay on at Faith’s. She’s really good company for you. And I’m fine at Scarlett’s, I really am. We get lots of things done together.’
‘Are you sure? Perhaps we’ll stay where we are until the weekend then?’
‘Yes, I’m really sure. I’m fine.’
20
Cairns
Thursday 30th August 2013
At lunchtime, the girls sat together under their raintree, as usual. Dorcas was cross-legged on a bench with her legal studies textbook open on her lap.
‘The eggshell skull rule,’ she read out, ‘holds an accused liable for all consequences of a negligent act that led to the injury of another person, regardless of whether the victim was unusually susceptible to harm. The term refers to a hypothetical person with a skull as delicate as the shell of an egg. Under the rule, an accused cannot claim his or her lack of knowledge of the victim’s condition as a defence for the consequence of the wrongful contact.’
‘Yeah, that’s what Meredith said,’ Emily agreed. ‘She said that she only slapped Karen lightly, and it was more the argument that put Karen’s blood pressure up.’
‘It would have been better if she hadn’t mentioned the slap to the police,’ said Mai Ling.
‘She was just telling the truth!’ Emily defended her mother.
‘Yeah, sorry, Blue, I know. It’s just that...’
‘Well,’ Dorcas said loftily, ‘speaking as the legal authority here, it wouldn’t have made any difference, anyway. The slap was part of the argument between them. Which put up the blood pressure. Which caused the aneurysm to burst.’
‘The police seemed to say to Meredith that it would look much better for her if someone could say that she definitely wasn’t on the veranda when Karen fell,’ Emily said. ‘A witness proving she definitely didn’t push her.’
‘Yeah,’ said Dorcas, ‘that kind of fits with what it says here: “The courts don’t want the accused to rely on the victim’s vulnerability to avoid liability.” If Meredith was inside and Karen managed to walk out and start going down the steps, it kind of moves the whole thing along and what’s going to happen just happens anyway. The aneurysm bursts and she collapses at the bottom of the stairs.’
Dorcas turned the page, ‘Okay,’ she continued. ‘There’s a defence to the eggshell skull here. The crumbling skull. “This defence argues that whatever harm was incurred by the victim was inevitable and the defendant’s actions only had a minimal effect on the already deteriorating circumstances.” I reckon that’s more what happened to Karen. She was going to get problems sooner or later. It just happened to be in the Harrisons’ house.’
‘Has that been used in real cases?’ asked Scarlett.
‘It doesn’t say here,’ said Dorcas, turning over the pages. ‘We don’t do much about crime this year. Which is sad; I’m much more interested in crime than in contracts or how to sell houses.’
The bell rang. Reluctantly the four girls got to their feet. As they made their way towards the chemistry lab Scarlett and Emily lingered behind.
‘I have to work tonight,’ Scarlett told Emily.
‘I know, Red,’ Emily answered, and discreetly squeezed Scarlett’s hand. ‘But I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.’
***
Cass arrived home on Thursday evening about six-thirty. As usual, Denzel was begging for a walk. At first, she thought she was too tired for a run but then she saw there was a full moon just emerging from clouds over the bay beyond the Esplanade. She loved the way the moonlight shone down on the smooth surface of the water, making a golden ladder up into the sky. She decided to change into her running gear and do the length of the Esplanade, all the way down to the marina and back, her music in her ears, just taking in the whole glorious scene.
When she was ready, she snapped the dog’s lead on and led him across to the start of the Esplanade. As she ran with him, she thought about training for a marathon. She’d done the half-marathon earlier in the year, and now there was the possibility of the full race, in Hawaii, next year.
But what about Zak? If they were living together, would he want to do it too? Or, if he didn’t, would he mind if she went ahead? The training would be demanding and time-consuming—what would this do to the relationship? These were the kinds of questions that set her on edge—what if she wanted to do something big and he didn’t, or vice versa? Would they be able to work it out? None of this speculation was helping her relax, which was the whole point of her run. The moon was passing in and out of clouds, but there was plenty of light along the Esplanade and it was a cool and beautiful evening. She settled into an easy pace and decided to stop worrying about the future.
Back after the run and having completed a good five kilometres, she gave Denzel his dinner then pulled on swimmers and plunged into the unit’s shared pool, swimming a few laps (could they really count as laps when they’re only ten metres long, she wondered). Turning on her back, she revelled in the soft tropical night air, kicking occasionally to stay afloat, watching the moon which had now risen high into the sky.
***
Cass got out of the pool and dried herself before going through her back door into the kitchen. Jordon was working the late shift. She wondered when she would get to meet this girl. Or perhaps, if... Jordon hadn’t mentioned her again. If he came back at all tonight it wouldn’t be until at least ten-thirty. Conveniently, classes at Smithfield on Fri
day never seemed to start before midday. He might well go off to hang out with friends until long past midnight. Or perhaps with the girl... She just hoped he wasn’t doing anything too stupid. Although their evening together with pizza and the Pirates had reassured her.
Cass pulled off her swimsuit and tied a sarong around herself. She was going to soak in a long warm bath—the bath was the main reason she’d chosen the unit; many places she’d seen only had showers. But Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries was starting at eight-thirty and Cass loved this show. She’d take the bath after it.
She made herself a double-toasted cheese and tomato sandwich in the electric jaffle maker—thank god for modern cooking aids—poured a glass of sauvignon blanc and sat down to indulge in the latest intrigues of Phryne Fisher.
***
The bath was nearly full. Cass turned off the tap, put in a good dose of vanilla-scented bath oil and poured a second glass of wine. All That I Am lay open on the floating pillow Jordon had given her one Christmas. She was halfway through the book, and it was growing increasingly terrifying.
She was about to turn off her phone when it occurred to her that Zak might call during his break. She carefully set the phone on the edge of the basin, mindful of the unfortunate occasion when it had been on the edge of the bath when he’d called and, in her haste to answer it, she’d knocked it into the water, completely drowning the call
Blood Sisters Page 19
