Bromley was not a stranger to the limelight. Too many murders had taken place in his territory over the past few years. At least these murders had taken place a long way from home.
He saw a manila folder marked “Eric Chapman/Audrey Wetherby” and began to read its contents.
Sunday: Report – Eric to survey AW in Hihi
Unexpected liaison on AW beachfront
Eric establishes a connection.
Monday night: Meet Eric at Hihi Motor Camp 5.30
Eric dinner with AW 7–10 p.m.
More random notes:
Audrey wearing her mothers pearls the night of Ben’s death?
Greta Baywater. Proof she scammed church members and kept records of her meetings – need to find her notes – Ben confession? Murder?
Steve Brown – Uncle – Murdered?
The detective realized Higgins’ visit to Hihi was not, in fact, a fishing trip but instead a covert investigation of Audrey. Why? Bromley needed to talk to Eric Chapman. Did he know something about Higgins’ death?
Now it was all making sense. Audrey Wetherby must have known Higgins’ had found proof that they were involved in their parents’ murders. Had Audrey and her sister simply pre-empted a forthcoming interrogation based on the new evidence? Now blaming their brother seemed a little too convenient. After all, he was dead and unable to defend himself.
And he wasn’t the only one who had died recently. Ben’s caregiver, Greta Baywater, Audrey’s uncle and now Higgins were all dead. Were all these deaths related? Had Higgins discovered proof that they had been murdered? By whom? Audrey? Why did he suspect Audrey?
He picked up the phone and started making calls. This was big. He would need to get his facts right before contacting the Super.
C H A P T E R 5 8
Yesterday, Becka had received an email from Audrey asking her to contact her immediately. She had not been returning any phone calls in order to keep her presence in New Zealand a secret. Thinking she was back in London was better for everyone concerned and it allowed her complete anonymity while she planned her next move.
Keeping in mind today’s digital forensics, she was careful to place the call from a landline using an old-fashioned phone with no caller ID. She had agreed with Honey and Audrey to confess to the police their knowledge that their brother had committed the murders. She didn’t want anyone nosing around in her private life and hopefully this would put an end to her sisters’ constant harassment by the local police.
She just had one more loose end to take care of and he was sitting at the next table to her deep in conversation with a man. Chapman was good-looking. Obviously successful with women. She had watched him eyeing the women as they walked by the little Mangonui waterfront café. Becka hoped her new vibrant red hair, revealing neckline and renewed confidence would entice him into an encounter.
When his guest left the table, Chapman looked over her way. “Lovely day,” he commented. “Are you visiting, or a local?”
“Just visiting,” she replied giving him a smile. “And you?”
“Just here for the fishing. Heading back tomorrow.”
“I’ve heard there are some great fishing spots around here. Don’t suppose you could give me a few tips?” she asked provocatively.
“Actually, I am taking a boat out this afternoon. I don’t suppose you would like to join me?” he said, walking over to join her at her table.
“Why, that would be wonderful. But I’m not really dressed for fishing,” she laughed pointing to her high-heeled sandals and yellow sundress.
“You look perfectly dressed to me,” he said. “I have rented a 19 footer for the afternoon and I would love you to join me. I promise I’ll take good care of you. I am a gentleman,” he said convincingly.
“I’m sure you are.” She laughed. “Why not? I could do with some fresh sea air.”
“Shall we?” He stood up, putting out his hand as she rose from the table.
Becka was grateful for her large sunglasses and wide-brimmed sun hat. She was sure no one would recognize her as she accompanied the man to the Mangonui wharf.
Once on board, he offered her a glass of cold champagne. Becka smiled. She couldn’t have planned this better. Just the two of them. Heading out to sea on a beautiful sunny afternoon. A warm breeze, calm waters and a good-looking man. What a shame she couldn’t keep him. He might be a perfect gentleman, but she was no innocent lady.
C H A P T E R 5 9
Audrey and Honey returned to Tiromoana, relieved it was over. “Poor Ben,” said Honey. “He kept it a secret his whole life and as soon as he died, we broke our promise and now the whole world will know what he did.”
Audrey agreed, but said, “We really had no choice, Honey. The police now have all the evidence they need to say we had a motive. Even if they couldn’t prove anything, they would never leave us alone.”
“I know you are right. I just wish we didn’t have to drag it all up again. It feels as if it all happened yesterday. All the memories, the abuse…” Honey picked up her overnight bag. “I am heading home. Matt is looking after the cats. He has been such a darling. So supportive. I am lucky to have him in around. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
Audrey watched Honey drive away in her little red convertible and returned to her office. She had been neglecting her business over the past few days. Dealing with the police snooping around had been a full-time job. Now she could get back to work. She took her laptop outside to the picnic table overlooking the bay. A powerboat was heading across the bay towards the open sea. In the distance she could just make out a couple. A man and a woman in a large yellow sun hat. Audrey wished she had someone to share the afternoon with. She watched them until they disappeared out of sight.
Looking at the bookings on her screen she sighed. More reporters from television and newspapers. Would they never give up? At least it was great for business. The death of Detective Higgins was a constant highlight on the evening news. No water in his lungs. It was either an awful accident or someone wanted him dead. Everyone had an opinion. The police were being tight lipped. “Still under investigation” was all they would say.
Audrey half expected Eric Chapman to make another appearance. She felt stupid for having thought that he was interested in her, when in fact he was just getting paid to snoop on her. Shit! Higgins’ death might be inconvenient under the circumstances, but hell, she was pleased he was dead. Shame Eric couldn’t take the same route.
She looked up as a guest approached her. “I don’t suppose you knew Detective Higgins by any chance?”
Bloody reporters! “No. Can’t say I knew him. Sorry,” she stood up and returned inside.
She watched the reporter walk away. She wasn’t actually lying. After all, she didn’t actually know Higgins. Meeting him a couple of times doesn’t warrant any familiarity.
She was pleased her last name wasn’t Brown. As soon as Detective Bromley filed his report, her parents’ murder case would be all over the news. Solving one of the biggest cold cases in New Zealand’s history would soon take the attention away from Higgins’ death. She made a mental note to ask the detective if her and her sisters’ names could be kept private. No harm in asking.
C H A P T E R 6 0
Matt Walters cared about Honey. Ever since Detective Higgins had told him Honey’s parents were murdered thirty years ago and he was reopening the case, Matt had been worried for her. What was the new evidence? Was it something to do with the slides Higgins had mentioned? He wished he had asked him. Probed him further.
Upon their return, Honey wouldn’t talk about it. But Matt was curious. A search on her computer revealed nothing. But an online search of the thirty-year-old murder revealed much more. It was all there. Photos of Honey’s parents smiling and looking happy. Photos of the 1950 bungalow where the family lived at the time of the murders. What was most disturbing was the lack of suspects or even a motive. The children were interviewed. They had no alibis but told t
he police they were not at home at the time of the murders. The son, Ben, who was twenty-one at the time was the main person of interest. But why? Is that why the death of Ben caused so much interest by the police? One of the sisters was also a person of interest. Which sister? Audrey? Becka? Honey?
Honey seemed so innocent, so vulnerable. Surely she had nothing to do with it, but her sisters were another matter. Had Higgins found proof that Ben had killed his parents? Or worse, was the whole family involved?
Shit! Why didn’t I probe him further? Now he is dead. Matt had a horrible feeling. Had Higgins been murdered too?
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at the caller ID but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello,
Matt Walters,” he answered. It was Detective Bromley from the Mangonui Police Station. He listened to what the detective had to say.
“You want permission to exhume my aunt’s body? Why? I see, detective. Yes, of course.” Matt was surprised by the request.
After a lengthy conversation, Matt hung up the phone and realized there was more to his Aunt’s death than he even imagined.
Matt told the detective about Audrey finding his aunt’s diary, which she had given to Deacon James at his request. The detective seemed to know about his aunt’s blackmailing tactics but was surprised to learn about the diary. The conversation troubled Matt.
He looked at the time. Honey was returning soon. He had cooked her favorite meal, chicken curry and rice. He was chilling a nice wine. She said that she had something to tell him. What, he wondered.
C H A P T E R 6 1
It was seven o’clock before Becka and Eric returned to the Mangonui dock. She knew Eric had enjoyed their afternoon at sea. He had suggested dinner and didn’t take much convincing that dinner at her place would be preferable.
A quick stop at the Mangonui Four Square shop to pick up supplies and she was back at her beachfront rental house in Hihi. Becka had time for a hot bath before Eric would return to join her for dinner and drinks.
Becka loved classical music and had quite a collection on her laptop. Bach’s Orchestral Suite #3 in D played in the background as she soaked in bubbles and planned her evening. The planning was as exciting as the execution. She knew some people liked to gamble, sky jump or have affairs to break the monotony of their mundane lives. Becka liked the adrenalin rush of getting away with murder.
She was careful never to leave behind any trace evidence. Tomorrow she knew she would need to take the remaining evidence with her – away from Hihi, away from the far north. She would make a stop on a country road on her way to Auckland airport. Her flight to Heathrow was scheduled to leave at 10.30 p.m. She would have a good twenty-four hours to do what she needed to do.
Dressed in a sexy red dress and sporting her vibrant new red hair, Becka poured a glass of chilled Oyster Bay sauvignon blanc and dribbled oil and vinegar dressing over her freshly made salad.
C H A P T E R 6 2
Eric Chapman was a selfish bastard. He told himself this as he prepared for a night of sex and debauchery. He should be digging up information on his mate’s untimely death. Instead, he was choosing what shirt to wear to impress the beautiful redhead he had the hots for. He knew she was older than he was, but she looked ten years younger. She had a figure to die for: slender, petite and such a tiny waist. And that red hair and those green eyes! She said her name was Angel, and an angel she was. She reminded him of someone but he couldn’t think who it was. That yellow dress looked familiar, too.
With his fishing gear in the trunk, he threw his bag and laptop in the back seat. He was pretty sure he would be staying the night with Angel so it would save him coming back to pack. Tomorrow he would get back to work. First on his list was Audrey Wetherby. Higgins’ last confirmed location was on her beach. Eric knew Higgins had been searching her cottage that night. Was he still there when he dropped Audrey off? Did she find him going through her stuff and kill him? Eric just had to prove it. He had reported his suspicions to Detective Bromley only this morning. The detective had called to confirm Higgins had hired him to keep an eye on Audrey Wetherby. He was surprised to hear Higgins had kept notes on their association. However, the detective was shocked to learn that Higgins had been planning to check out Audrey’s cottage while Eric was wining and dining her. An illegal search was obviously not something Bromley approved of.
Eric expected Audrey Wetherby would be taken in for questioning. With any luck he could gain access to her cottage and finish what Higgins had started.
Proof is what he needed. Proof Audrey had something to hide. A motive. Anything. Then it came to him. The yellow dress. Audrey was wearing a similar dress the afternoon he met her on the beach. He laughed. The two women couldn’t be more different.
He pulled into the driveway of the expensive two-storied home overlooking the Hihi Park and waterfront. Angel was on the balcony. “Come on up,” she called. “I have just put the crayfish on the BBQ.”
Eric’s thoughts of murder and mayhem dissipated into the warm ocean breeze as he climbed the steps to the balcony.
C H A P T E R 6 3
Audrey could sense something was not right. She could smell trouble. Baring their souls to Detective Bromley should have deflected any suspicion away from her but it seemed as though whatever she did, she could not shake the feeling of pending doom.
The death of Detective Higgins was troublesome. She wondered if he had been in her cottage the night of his death. She wished she had been more observant when she returned her pearls to her dresser. Her mother’s diary was in the wooden box and she didn’t see anything unusual. But she had noticed her computer was turned off. She always just put her computer to sleep and had presumed that there had been a power cut while she was out. She checked with the power company but they didn’t have any record of a power cut. Had Higgins tried to access her computer? Had he been inside the cottage?
She wondered if she should come clean to Detective Bromley and show him the night cam displaying Higgins walking up the ridge from Honeymoon Beach towards the cottage and the cabins. But there was no record of him leaving Tiromoana, which could be more incriminating, as she had no alibi after 9 o’clock, which, she learned, was approximately the estimated time of his demise.
What made matters worse was Eric Chapman. He could prove he dropped her off at home shortly after nine-thirty. She doubted any of her guests could vouch for her, as the cottage was not visible from the cabins on the ridge. She was surprised Eric had not visited her today. She was sure he would be on her case. Maybe he had given up. She hoped so.
She didn’t have to worry about Greta’s death.
She was buried six feet under, and her Uncle Steve had been cremated. It was just bloody Higgins’ death that was haunting her.
Her sisters were all in agreement they should confide in the police that Ben had carried out their parents’ murders. She expected tomorrow the world would know. What was worse, most of the media were still in Hihi covering the death of Higgins. Would her name be exposed? Would she suddenly be put in the spotlight? Audrey was on her third glass of wine. Wine was not going to make this go away. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Then Audrey decided to take control of the situation. She collected her mother’s diary, her photocopies of Greta’s notebook, a full bottle of wine and made her way across the ridge to the Kiwi Cabin. The guest staying there was a recognized TV personality. It was time to tell her story.
C H A P T E R 6 4
Breakfast was a sacred time in the Bromley household. It was a time when Bromley could sit with the family and catch up on his three daughters’ lives and share some quality time with his wife, Mary. This morning they had the news playing quietly on the big screen TV in the adjoining lounge.
“Audrey Wetherby, daughter of Murray and Sophie Brown who were murdered in their Christchurch home over thirty years has told our own TV One’s David Doherty that it was her brother who committed the crimes.”
Detective Constable Bromley, shocked, t
urned towards the TV as the familiar broadcaster’s face appeared on the screen.
“Ms. Wetherby advised she has kept quiet all these years out of respect for her brother, Ben Brown. His passing last week released her and her sisters from their promise of silence. Ms. Wetherby and her sisters have given written statements to the police identifying their brother as the perpetrator of the crimes. Ms. Wetherby explained that she and her sisters were constantly abused by their parents and that Ben had snapped when witnessing this abuse and committed the crimes with the sole purpose of protecting his siblings.
Ms. Wetherby found her mother’s diary and Ben’s confessions of his crime among her brother’s belongings, and she has shared this evidence with TV One. Full details will follow in tonight’s six o’clock news.”
And there was more. David Doherty continued, “Ms. Wetherby also confided to me another disturbing matter. Her brother, Ben Brown’s, caregiver, Greta Baywater who died the same night as Brown, at seventy-two years of age, apparently had her own sordid past. Ms. Wetherby found evidence in her brother’s home that Greta Baywater was bribing members of her church in order to keep silent about their discussions held during Greta’s fortune-telling sessions. Ms. Wetherby found a notebook belonging to Ms. Baywater, which contained details of these discussions. We understand the police are aware of this situation. We will keep you updated as more information comes to hand.”
Murder In The Family Page 10
