“I have proof; letters, requests for payment. Blackmail. I am not mistaken. Please look through her belongings again.”
Blackmail? The man is nuts. He explained. “Audrey, Ben’s sister collected all her belongings and kept them in storage for me. There is nothing here to indicate that my aunt was blackmailing anyone.”
“Would you mind if I look through her belongings for myself? I wouldn’t ask but you can appreciate this is a very delicate situation. I would be most grateful and if there is nothing, as you say, then I can tell the others that the horrible ordeal is over and we can all go back to our lives in peace. It would mean a lot to us,” he pleaded.
Matt paused. He knew that he wouldn’t hear the last of this man if he didn’t give him what he wanted. “I am staying up here in the far north. The place is called Tiromoana at Hihi. We could meet tomorrow morning at ten. Would that work for you?”
“Thank you. I am most grateful. Ten it is.”
As soon as Matt hung up the phone, he regretted his offer. Somehow it didn’t seem so far fetched that his aunt might be a psychic and even blackmailing her clients. He had wondered why she was so desperate to leave her employment and home and stay with him. She had sounded afraid. Afraid she would get caught!
He almost admired her spunk. Here he thought she was just a boring old lady when in fact she was an entrepreneur, a therapist and a blackmailer. Who knew?
Tonight after dinner he would ask Audrey if she knew what his Aunt had been up to. Ask her if she knew of any notebooks or records. He doubted she knew any more than he did. But it would make for a colorful conversation. He grinned at the thought.
C H A P T E R 3 2
Detective Constable Higgins had been sitting in the same chair for hours. He stood up and stretched. He was on his twelfth carousel of slides. It wasn’t that Murray Brown was a bad photographer; in fact, he was quite a good one. It was the quantity, not quality, that had become exhausting. Higgins knew he would never need to travel the west coast of New Zealand ever again. Every scene was firmly imprinted on his mind. Unfortunately forever.
He picked up the thirteenth carousel and took out the first slide. Holy Shit! Higgins couldn’t believe what he was looking at. He put it to one side and pulled out the next slide, then the next, and the next. The images on the screen shocked and repulsed him. Now it all makes sense. The man was molesting children. His own children. Who would have thought a lay preacher, a pillar of the church was an incestuous pedophile. Who knew? Did Ben Brown know? Was he molested too? Higgins turned off the projector. This was a game changer. New evidence. Now he had something to work with.
Higgins looked at the crime wall and studied the family more closely. He always believed Murray and Sophie Brown’s murders were personal. Strangulation is certainly up close and personal. Multiple stabbings indicate anger and revenge. Any one of the children may have had cause to attack their parents.
He had a gut feeling that Audrey Wetherby was hiding something. Was a fifteen-year-old girl capable of such vicious crime? Yes, he decided, definitely.
C H A P T E R 3 3
Honey and Matt joined Audrey for a late-night drink in the cottage. The others had retired to bed after a day in hot summer sun.
“She was a psychic conning her clients out of large sums of money. Who would have thought? No wonder she was in a hurray to leave,” Matt confided. “Did you know what she was up to, Audrey?”
“I had no idea. She was a strange one, I’ll give you that.” Audrey considered her options. “Now I come to think about it, I did find some books in the library that must have been hers. Books about tarot and witchcraft. I wondered why my brother had taken an interest in such things.”
“Do you still have them?”
“I think so. I’ll sort through the boxes tomorrow and find them for you.”
Deacon James is particularly interested in any records or notes she may have kept. He is worried. His congregation is worried and he wants them destroyed.”
Honey looked over at Audrey and asked, “I don’t suppose Ben was one of her clients?”
Audrey knew exactly why she was worried. “No. I am sure he wasn’t.” She knew exposing Greta’s past would steer any suspicion away from her. “Why was Deacon James so worried? Was he one of her clients too?” she asked.
“It would appear so. I wonder what he has to hide?”
Audrey was curious herself. So much so she bid Honey and Matt goodnight and immediately settled down to read Greta’s prolific hand-written records.
First she would find and remove any reference to Ben. She started reading.
Ben can’t sleep. He is restless and remorseful. I suggested he have a reading. He was extremely reluctant. He has secrets. Secrets he is not ready to share.
It has taken almost three months to convince Ben a reading would ease his mind. He finally agreed today. I couldn’t imagine what was troubling him. The cards don’t lie. The ten of swords shows violence in his past. Then he confessed he has done something really bad. He murdered someone. He wouldn’t say whom. Just that it has haunted him his whole life.
The cards confirm this.
Audrey searched through her notes and found more entries:
I did another reading for Ben. This time the cards showed two deaths – a man and a woman. I asked him if he knew who they were. He was silent. I won’t press him but we don’t have much time. The cards show his death is near. I will know when it is time.
I found a box belonging to Ben’s mother. Why he keeps it near to his bed, I don’t know. While he slept I read his mother’s diary. She was a wicked woman. There was much incest in his family Did Ben kill his mother? His father?
Am I in danger too?
There was one last entry:
Ben is surrounded by death. His death and other deaths. When I look deeper into the meaning of the cards I see my own death is imminent.
I must protect myself. I must leave this place. Too much death. Too much suffering.
Audrey carefully removed all the pages referencing Ben and sat back to read the entire notebook.
Two hours later she had an insight into almost every member of the Baptist Church in Whangarei. The most damaging confessions belonged to Deacon James. Who would have thought the man who was known as the pillar of society was not only unfaithful to his high-society wife but was unfaithful with men? Of course, Audrey was not judgmental, at least not of homosexuality; after all, her greatest love was with a woman. It was his dishonesty – portraying piousness in public and concealing his sexual preference in private – just like her father.
She hadn’t had so much fun in ages. Pages and pages of self-righteous Christians with their petty crimes and misdemeanors; extramarital affairs, stealing petty cash from the work till, sexual addiction, food addiction, alcohol addiction, gay tendencies, stalking, coveting their neighbor’s wife – it was all there.
There must have been over fifty clients Greta had been blackmailing in some form or another. Either with regular readings costing a hundred dollars each or, worse, a demand for large amounts of cash to purchase special sacred candles. Audrey had never seen any candles in the house so presumed this was just a scam to keep the old women in comfort when it was time to pack up and disappear. Shame she never got to make it out the front door.
Audrey decided to show the notebook to Matt tomorrow. She had no interest in its contents. Matt could decide what he wanted to do with it. Personally she felt Greta’s clients had suffered enough. As for Deacon James, the fact that she knew his sordid little secret and now had copies of all his readings with Greta meant he could cause her no trouble in the future. She returned to her printer and scanned the last few pages, just to be sure. Proof of Greta’s criminal past was her protection against any incrimination in the future.
C H A P T E R 3 4
Deacon James drove his BMW along the Hihi waterfront. Beautiful. If he wasn’t on such an unfortunate expedition he might choose to stay a while. Get in some fishing.
He took the gravel road up the peninsula admiring the clear blue waters of Doubtless Bay. Taking the first driveway on the left he headed towards the red-roofed cottage.
She was picking peaches from a tree and turned as he approached. “Beautiful day. You must be Deacon James. Matt said you were stopping by this morning. You will find him on the front lawn with my sister, Honey.” She pointed in the direction of the ocean.
As he approached the couple sitting on the lawn he couldn’t help but notice the shirtless body of the man sprawled on the grass. He was taut and bronze, making his groin ache with desire. He didn’t usually get the gay vibe from heterosexual men and wondered if Matt Walters went both ways.
“Steve James, you must be Matt Walters,” he introduced himself.
“Steve, nice to meet you.” Matt stood and offered him a deck chair. “Would you like a beer or home-made lemonade?”
“A lemonade would be great, thanks,” Deacon James said as he reclined in the chair. “Great view you have here.”
“This is Audrey’s sister, Honey,” Matt said, introducing him to the lovely blonde in a large white hat and huge sunglasses.
“Nice to meet you,” he said politely. She smiled.
“So you have come to rummage through my Aunt’s belongings? Do you know what you are looking for exactly?” Matt enquired.
“I hope there is nothing to find. Then we will know everyone’s readings are free from scrutiny.”
Audrey joined them on the lawn. She was carrying a notebook and a fresh jug of lemonade. She poured him a glass and handed him the book. “I think this is what you are looking for.”
Deacon James opened the book and within seconds he knew she was right. “Yes, sadly it is.” He was quiet as he read page after page in the afternoon sun. Matt and Honey had already skimmed through the book and knew of its contents. Matt was horrified his aunt had used the information to torture the minds of her clients. He was happy to give the notebook to Deacon James.
“We are giving you the notebook,” said Audrey, “on the condition you destroy it. It is of no value to you or to any of your congregation. It can only do harm. Matt doesn’t want his aunt’s name dragged through the courts or social media and I am sure you don’t want yours to be either. Can we agree that the book is to be destroyed?”
“Yes,” he agreed.
A car pulled into the car park. It was Detective Constable Higgins. As the detective walked towards them, Deacon James quickly concealed the notebook in his trouser pocket.
“Glad I caught you. I thought you were on a trip, Audrey. I am surprised to find you all here.”
“We changed our mind and decided to stay here at Tiromoana. What brings you up this way, detective?” Honey peered up at the detective blocking the sun.
“Just following up on a couple of loose ends,” the detective said pointedly.
Bloody Hell! “Would you like a glass of lemonade?” Audrey offered.
“Love one.” The detective took a seat at the picnic table. “Beautiful day.” It was until you arrived. “Yes, it is.”
C H A P T E R 3 5
Detective Constable Higgins recognized Steve James. He ran with the rich and famous in Whangarei. His wife, Naomi, was an attorney and Higgins had dealt with her on a number of occasions. He wondered what James was doing here at Tiromoana. “Steve James,” he said in recognition. “I didn’t know you knew Audrey Wetherby.”
“We have just met,” explained Audrey. “He stopped by to check out the accommodation. He and his wife are thinking of taking a holiday up this way.”
“Greta was a member of your church, wasn’t she? So you know Greta’s nephew, Matt Walters?”
“Yes, we’ve met. Small world isn’t it?” Deacon James stood to leave. “Thanks, Audrey, for your hospitality. I will call you to confirm the dates.”
“Nice to meet you. We’ll talk soon,” Audrey said pointedly. “So detective, what can I do for you?”
Higgins looked at Matt “I don’t suppose you had any idea that your aunt was doing psychic readings for members of her church?”
Deacon James kept walking towards his car. Higgins knew he had heard him.
Matt laughed. “I didn’t know my aunt very well, detective. What makes you think that?”
“I had a complaint from someone who showed me a number of letters from Greta requesting large sums of money or she would divulge their innermost secrets. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?
“I’m sorry detective. That is very unfortunate. Maybe it explains why she was in such a hurry to leave town,” Matt offered.
Higgins looked at Audrey. “Did you know about this? Did your brother know?”
“I had no idea, though I always thought she was a strange old woman.” Audrey walked away from the group on the lawn. “Honey, can you give me a hand in the laundry?” she called back.
“Sure, Audrey.” Honey followed her sister, leaving Higgins and Matt chatting in the afternoon sun.
“How well do you know Audrey and her sisters?” Higgins asked.
“I know Honey pretty well. We have become quite close over the past few days. She is a wonderful person. Audrey is a different story. She is rather cold and aloof. Always has a smile. But something doesn’t add up with her; why do you ask?”
“Thirty years ago their parents were murdered and, to date, no one has been held responsible for the crime.”
“Holy shit! I had no idea. Honey told me the sisters were estranged since their childhood. Now I know why. It must have been traumatic, to say the least. Was anyone suspected of the crime?”
The detective paused. “The children were all questioned at the time. Their stories were never consistent. The police at the time suspected the brother was responsible. None of the children had a solid alibi. Now new evidence has come to light. We are reopening the case.”
“Shit! Poor Honey. Does she know the case is being reopened?”
“I have told Audrey. I presume she has told her sisters.”
“Don’t bet on it. What is the new evidence? Do you have a suspect?”
“It turns out their father was an avid photographer. Thousands of slides have been located in the cold case files shedding new light on the case.” The detective knew he had said enough. Matt Walters would pass on the information to the women. That was what Higgins had come here for. He knew the women would not talk to him. Now they might have second thoughts, especially if they knew their secret was exposed. He would wait for one of them to contact him.
“Well, I just stopped by to talk to you about your aunt. Messy stuff. Hope her death has put an end to it all. I’d keep your distance from Deacon James. I never liked that guy. He’s hiding something. I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”
The detective waved goodbye to the women as he departed. They didn’t wave back.
C H A P T E R 3 6
Becka was horrified. “They found what?”
“He said thousands of slides. Said your father was a photographer. Did you know?”
“We knew.” Simone looked at her glass of wine, avoiding her sisters’ glares. “We knew he took photos. He and Uncle Steve would spend hours in his room looking at them.”
“Why would the police be interested in the slides? Do you suppose they were of other women?” Matt looked at Honey.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Honey. “I’m going to bed. I’m tired. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Matt walking with her to the door.
“I want to be alone tonight,” Honey said. “You stay here and finish your wine. I’ll see you tomorrow before I head off home. It’s time to rescue my cats and get back to work. Goodnight.”
Matt looked upset. I blew it! Fuck the detective. I shouldn’t have said anything. “I’m off to bed too.”
Simone, Becka and Audrey watched Matt leave and knew that they must finally talk about that afternoon.
The detective had obviously seen for himsel
f their father’s sexual deviancy. Their secret was out.
“What are we going to do?” Simone was the first to talk.
“What can we do?” Becka knew she would never confess her crime to her sisters. “We weren’t there. Surely he doesn’t suspect that we had anything to do with it?”
“Maybe he has found some DNA. They didn’t have DNA technology then. Maybe they know who did it.” Simone was hopeful.
“DNA on what? Our DNA would be everywhere, we lived in the house, for heaven’s sake.” Audrey thought about the knife. Do they have the knife? She knew it was time. Time to tell. “He did it. Ben killed them. I came home that afternoon and found Father on the floor. There was blood everywhere. Ben told me to leave and not come back until the police arrived. It was awful!” She lowered her head. Everyone would believe her. Ben was dead. No one would ever find out the truth.
“I know,” said Becka. I was there too.
Audrey’s mind froze. She was there? When?
Becka continued, “Father was already dead. I helped Ben get rid of the evidence. At least I thought I did. I washed the knife and helped him burn the bloody clothes.”
“You never said anything; why not?” Simone had turned pale and looked at her two sisters in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What about Mother? Was she dead too?” Audrey asked.
“Yes. Her body was lying on the lounge floor. Both were dead. Ben said not to say anything. They deserved it. He would have gone to jail if anyone knew. I promised him.” Becka turned away.
“So Ben killed them both?” Simone was beginning to realize the seriousness of what she just heard. Do you think the detective knows?”
“No. How could he? Why re-open the case now?” Becka was obviously upset.
Murder In The Family Page 6
