Last Writes (A Ghostwriter Mystery)

by C. A. Larmer

  “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  “Caroline, about David. I don’t think you understand—”

  She held a hand up. “Not my biz, babe, you’re a grown woman. But I will text Max on my way out, try and put him off coming over. I’m not sure now’s a good time.”

  The look on her face was one of dismay and Roxy felt awful. She wanted to set the record straight, but she also needed to talk to David, to see if he had more information that might help Oliver. There was no time to waste.

  “Don’t worry,” Caroline was saying, reading her incorrectly. “I won’t tell Max that David’s here. I don’t need to break his heart any more this week. He hasn’t exactly warmed to the bloke.”

  “Thanks, Caroline. I can still make dinner tomorrow night ... if he’s ... if you ...?”

  “See you then,” she said and opened the front door.

  Caroline was about to descend the staircase when she hesitated and turned back, a slight frown crinkling her perfect forehead. “Look, Roxy, about Max. You need to know—”

  Before she could finish, David was springing up towards them, two steps at a time.

  “Hey there, Caroline! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Caroline smiled wryly. “You know me, Lonesy, I like to get around.” She turned to Roxy. “It’ll keep,” she said, giving her a warm embrace before heading back downstairs.

  Roxy showed David in and fetched him a fresh glass so he could join her in the merlot.

  As she poured the wine, he watched her quietly, a slight frown on his forehead.

  “So you were expecting Max?”

  She tried not to blush. “Caroline said he might drop over. Obviously not.” She handed David the wine and led him back to the sofa, keen to change the subject. “Has Oliver been released on bail?”

  “Yes he has, the lucky bastard. I really didn’t think he’d get it. They managed to sort it out so he’s not there all weekend. He’ll be out shortly.” He retrieved his mobile phone and placed it on the coffee table beside the tulips, then sat down. “I’m sorry, Roxanne.”

  She sighed long and low. You should be sorry, she wanted to say. He’d been a party to all of this, had helped steer the police in Oliver’s direction and now, to add insult to injury, had deserted the agency. But she also knew he wasn’t the enemy and, even if he was, she needed to keep him close, to find out what he knew, to help Oliver. Still, it didn’t stop her from wanting to tear his head off.

  She swallowed her anger down and tried to offer him a smile. At least Oliver was being released, at least he wouldn’t have to spend a night in jail. Yet.

  “I know you’re angry with me,” he said. “I understand why, but you have to understand this is not personal, it’s just business.”

  It should be personal, she thought. Business is personal, or at least it was with her. Maybe it was a shortcoming, but she never could detach herself from her agent or her clients or the work she was writing. She took them home with her every single day, she lived and breathed them, and she would fight for them if she had to.

  But she didn’t say any of that either, she just asked, “Why didn’t you tell the police that we were together last Saturday night?”

  He looked surprised, then smiled. “You’ve made up with Gilda, I see.”

  “Yes, Gilda did tell me,” she said, wondering why nothing ever got past this guy. “I want to know why. What’s the big secret?”

  “It’s very simple, Roxanne. I didn’t tell them because it’s none of their damn business. And because I don’t kiss and tell.” She blushed despite herself. “It’s okay,” he said, reaching for one of her hands and turning it over in his. “It wasn’t a long kiss, you didn’t make a fool of yourself if that’s what you’re worried about. I enjoyed it, though. Very much.” He’d stopped laughing and his blue eyes had taken on that intensity that unsettled her, despite herself. “I wanted to get your permission before I mentioned your name. It’s irrelevant to the case, anyway, it’s not like either of us is involved.”

  “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, slipping her hand away. “So what’s the latest?”

  He leaned his long legs out. “They found an incriminating mobile phone.”

  “I heard that. Any fingerprints yet?”

  “Not a one. But its very presence in Oliver’s office speaks volumes. They also pulled up his computer files and found that he had looked over his old contract with William Glad, the day before he died.”

  She stared at him. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means, he has motive to kill William. William’s contract obviously stipulates the terms and conditions around publication of his old gardening guides, right? We already know that William was organizing to meet with his lawyer before he died. Maybe he wanted to change the contracts, or put something in his will about his books never being republished. But he never got the chance. Oliver must have heard about that meeting, probably from Erin, and was checking through the contract to see where he stood. Erin is already on record saying Oliver was pushing for publication really hard, insisting she try to change her father’s mind before he died.”

  “Hang on,” Roxy said. “Can we just go back one step. This so-called meeting with the lawyer. What was that about, exactly?”

  He shrugged, crossed his legs over. “We’ll never know now.”

  “What does the lawyer say?”

  “He says it was never explained. William had just rung and asked him to drop over some time that week, the week he died.”

  “Okay, so he called his lawyer. But there’s no proof he was going to change the contracts. He might have wanted to discuss something completely different. Maybe he wanted to cut Erin out of his will. Why is no one looking at her?”

  Oliver gave her that “you’re so naïve” look again. “Erin’s a single mum with five kids. The youngest is three. You think she left them all alone to dash over and kill her beloved dad, then return home again? Do you think William really would cut his daughter off at this late stage? He loved that daughter of his.”

  She wondered how he knew all that but just shrugged. “I guess not.”

  He uncrossed his legs and sat forward. “There’s one other thing I only just found out. It’s really incriminating.” Her heart dropped again, she braced herself. “Oliver went to see William, the night he died.”

  “What? Really? When, exactly?”

  “It was a few hours before he died.”

  “How do you know this? He never mentioned anything to me.”

  “He didn’t tell anyone but he’s just ’fessed up apparently. Even Erin didn’t know about it. Oliver says he was over there, saying good-bye. I think he was there trying to convince William to publish. When that didn’t work, he returned and killed him.”

  He said it so flatly, it sparked her anger again but he seemed oblivious to this. He leaned back in his seat. “I know you’re trying to find answers that don’t implicate Oliver, Roxanne, and believe me I’ve tried, too. I wish I could find evidence that points firmly at someone else’s feet. Really I do. But I have gone over it and over it, as I’m sure you have. And it’s undeniable. Nobody has stronger links to all three victims. Nobody has a stronger motive for all three, than Oliver. And nobody had greater access. It’s a fact.”

  “Not yet it’s not,” she said, standing up.

  “I hear you had a meeting with Amy Halloran?”

  His subject change surprised her. “That was to discuss Oliver’s case,” she stammered. “I’m not ...”

  “Deserting the sinking ship?”

  “No, I’m not,” she said more firmly this time. “But ... well, please don’t mention the meeting to Oliver. He’s depressed enough as it is. I think he’ll just take it the wrong way.”

  “Fine by me,” he said. “But listen, she’s a good one, Roxanne, you mustn’t accuse Amy of any of this.”

  “Yet it’s okay to accuse Oliver?”

  He sighed. “I can see I’m not going to convince y
ou of anything.”

  Roxy’s head was spinning now and things were starting to feel even more out of control. “I’m tired, David, can we do this another time?”

  “Of course,” he said, standing up. “I’ll leave you alone. I really just dropped by to let you know that if you want to speak to my old English teacher, you’ve got to get onto it fast.”

  English teacher? She was confused for a second before it clicked. His book. In the drama of the past few days she’d forgotten all about it.

  “The problem is, you see, she’s heading off on sabbatical overseas soon so you need to get it done fast, preferably early this week. You have her number, right? Just ring and set something up. She lives up near Yamba, on the north coast. It’s a bit of a drive, but I think you should go up and interview her face to face. More personal that way.”

  She was nodding, unable to speak, leading him towards the door before she really did knock his head off.

  How could he even think about his own book at a time like this?

  “Okay, then,” he said, leaning in as though he were about to kiss her on the lips.

  Roxy deliberately turned her head so he got her right cheek and he paused for a moment, still leaning in, and said, “Everything all right?”

  “Yep, it’s all hunky dory,” she managed and he looked at her for a moment, his blue eyes clouded over. Then he shrugged, opened the door and headed back down the stairs.

  Roxy tried not to slam the door after him. She was furious, livid, shaking with rage.

  What an insensitive, horrendous, egotistical ...

  She caught herself and took a few deep breaths, then reached for the dying tulips and stormed into the kitchen to dump them in the garbage disposal unit in the sink.

  He’s asking you to do your job, she told herself calmly. Just like he’s doing his.

  As she watched the flowers get swallowed alive by the gurgling, spluttering sink, she realised the problem was he was doing his job too bloody well.

  Chapter 28

  Late Saturday night, Oliver Horowitz was finally released on bail, but he was not heading home. He called Roxy to tell her he was en route to Sharon’s place, “out in Parramatta somewhere”. His solicitor was dropping him there now.

  “The press have staked out my home and office, apparently, so I’m not going to give them the satisfaction. Scumbags. Shazza has offered to hole me up for a few days until this blows over.”

  Roxy wasn’t sure it was going to blow over. Oliver had been officially charged with Tina Passion’s murder. It would only be a matter of time before they implicated him in the deaths of William Glad and Seymour Silva as well.

  Of course she said none of that, instead offering, “You can always stay with me, you know?”

  “Nah, too close to the action, they’ll hunt me down.”

  Her mind flashed to the aforementioned “scumbags”. Oliver was right. It would take David Lone all of three minutes to work it out. He’d be better off hidden out west.

  “Listen, don’t worry about going into my office on Monday. Shazza’s gonna help me sort stuff from her place. She’s got her laptop; thank God the coppers never thought to confiscate that.”

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “Nah, nah, I just need to call my clients, that kind of stuff. Thomas is going to get cracking on our defense.”

  “Okay, well, unfortunately I have to head out of town this week, myself, probably Monday, to chase up some stuff for David’s book, so—”

  “His book? Is that still happening?”

  She cringed, wished she hadn’t mentioned it. “I know, it’s really hard to think about something so trivial now, but he’s determined to keep it rolling, and well ...”

  “No, no, you have to do what you have to do, Roxy. Don’t you worry about that. I’m just surprised by Davo, that’s all.”

  “Well that makes two of us. He’s certainly surprising. So, anyway, while I’ve got you I just need to check a few things that have been troubling me.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’ve already asked Sharon this, but can you think of anyone who might have hidden that phone in your office? Anyone at all?”

  He sighed. “Believe me, Rox, I’ve been racking my brain.”

  “Not Tina’s dad? Or Erin? Or Norman?”

  “Nope, nope, nope.”

  “And that hideous Amy Halloran?”

  “Amy? What’s she got to do with all this?”

  “Oh ... I’m just wondering, crossing those Ts, you know me,” she stammered.

  “Right, well, no, she’s never been to my office as far as I know. I barely know the woman, although she seems to have a hard-on for my clients.” He paused. “Is that why you suspect—”

  “Oh I don’t know what I suspect anymore,” she said, cutting him off.

  There was a muffled conversation in the background and then he said, “Hang on a minute, Rox.” A few minutes later, Oliver said, “Look, Thomas reckons that’s unimportant anyway.”

  “What? The phone?”

  “Yeah, he says that there’s no proof that mobile is directly linked to the murders. Just because it’s the phone that was used to call both Tina and William the nights they died, doesn’t say anything. At least that’s how he’ll present it to the court. It’s not like it was used to leave an incriminating message. They were all just hang ups. Gonna try and get it thrown out.”

  She thought about that, felt a little better. “Okay, can I ask a few more questions? Have you got time?”

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s a bloody long drive, Roxy, plus Thomas drives like an old lady.” There was laughter in the background but she was about to put an end to all that.

  “You need to tell me about William Glad,” she said.

  “What about him?”

  “Why were you looking up his contract the day he died? Why did you visit him that night and not mention it?”

  There was a long pause before he answered. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you that, Rox. I just had a gut feeling it would land me in it, and it has. I was right.”

  “It’s important, Oliver!”

  “I don’t see why! Look, Erin had called to tell me her dad was deteriorating fast, might not last the week. I went to visit the poor bugger to say good-bye. I was there hours before he died. Around seven-ish. I was only there about ten minutes, he looked like death warmed up, was really tired, so I took off. I never returned, I promise you that.”

  “Do they have any evidence of you taking off? Of not returning?”

  “Obviously not or they wouldn’t have friggin’ charged me.”

  “Okay. So what about the contract? Why were you looking at William’s contract?”

  A long sigh. “For the same reason. I knew he didn’t have long and wanted to check what his final wishes were, ask if he had any plans to change it, and if not, leave it be. It turns out I never got to discuss it with him. He was too frail and it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel important any more. I told all of this to the police. It just wasn’t that important to me.”

  “David says that Erin blames you entirely for trying to push her Dad to publish his back catalogue. Says it was all your idea.”

  Oliver growled, “Well, Erin’s a liar! It’s not true. We’d all just been talking about it at David’s film launch, do you remember? I wanted to set the record straight before Will died, that was all. I didn’t care either way.”

  “But Oliver, you told me yourself, after William died, that you were looking at republishing.”

  “Because Erin kept going on about it. He didn’t have anything in his will, so she seemed to think we had free rein. I’ll tell you again what I told the police, I didn’t care that much. Still don’t. I don’t give a fuck about that catalogue. It won’t even bring in that much money, I don’t know why everyone is fixating on it.”

  Now it was Roxy’s turn to sigh. “So why then did William call to see his lawyer before he died? Maybe he was going to change his wi
ll? Maybe he just never got the chance.”

  “His lawyer?”

  She told him what David had told her. That the lawyer had been called to William’s house but never got there in time.

  Oliver scoffed. “Gazza? Gazza O’Reilly? That’s William’s solicitor, it’s also his oldest mate! Did Davo tell you that? Of course William wanted to see him that week. He wanted to see all of us, all his friends, for God’s sake, he was dying!”

  “So it wasn’t to change his will?”

  “Fucked if I know, but I doubt it. I doubt William could have held a pen up to sign anything. He was frail, Rox, and he wasn’t even in that frame of mind. I saw him. He was just full of love and just wanted to say good-bye.”

  Oliver’s voice had turned croaky; he sounded exhausted. She was feeling that way herself and she hadn’t been officially interrogated all day, let alone accused of one murder, possibly three.

  “I’m sorry about all this, Oliver, you know I believe in you. I just have to ask. I need to cross my Ts, dot my Is. It’s the way I do things.”

  “I know, I know, it’s what makes you so bloody infuriating, and so bloody good at the same time. It’s why I’m glad you’re on my side.”

  “And I am on your side. Don’t ever forget that. Okay, I’d better let you go. You must be sick of all of this.”

  “Big time. Hey, did you ever get through to Tina’s editor, get that last book sent over?”

  “It should be with me on Monday.”

  “Good. We’ll talk later, but Rox—”

  “I know, I know, be careful.”

  “Don’t make light of it. I didn’t do this thing, Rox, which means somebody else did. And whoever it is, he’s still out there.”

  Chapter 29

  As Roxy stepped out onto the street on Sunday morning and walked the three blocks down to where her car was parked in a side street off Elizabeth Bay Road, she had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her.

  Bloody Oliver, she thought. He had really creeped her out last night. She looked around. There were various couples strolling along the street, a few kids mucking about, an elderly man holding onto a light pole as though his life depended on it, but none of them seemed to pay her any attention. Still, the feeling persisted.