Ryder swallowed the lump in his throat. She was strong and victorious, magnificent and tragic, and he wondered what Smythe had done to drive her to this end. He moistened his lips. This was the last thing he wanted to do, but he had no choice. He raised his Glock.
‘Vanessa, drop the shovel, and move away from the body.’
Her eyes widened with shock. Still brandishing the tool, she took two steps towards him. ‘Pierce?’ she called. ‘Pierce?’
He stared at her down the barrel. ‘I said, drop the shovel. And move away from the body.’
Thirty-seven
Two days later
Ryder carried his coffee and raspberry muffin to the table where Lew was waiting. ‘For a hospital coffee shop, they don’t have too many healthy options.’
‘At least it’s cheerful in here.’
‘Yeah, I’ve been in worse.’ Ryder glanced at the other patrons, a mix of staff, volunteer workers and worried relatives doing their best to comfort each other.
Lew leaned forward expectantly as Ryder sat down. ‘So, was Smythe awake?’
‘Yep.’ After waiting all afternoon, the call had finally come through. They’d rushed to the hospital, leaving Flowers at Monaro to finish typing up the extensive case notes.
‘Apparently he’s had a couple of minor heart procedures in the past, but because he’s so fit his recovery’s been rapid.’
‘Did you charge him?’
‘Multiple times. The judge will hear the charges when he’s fit enough to attend court.’
‘Was he able to talk?’
‘I got a bit out of him before the doctor stepped in.’
‘Why did he kill Celia?’
Ryder took a sip of coffee and leaned back in his chair. ‘He said he couldn’t risk Carmel finding out.’ Ryder put his cup down and peeled back the paper case on his muffin. ‘And we know from what Bruno told us, her father was picking up the bill for what was going to be a stellar career. So, there’s his motive.’
‘And we know he had the opportunity and the means,’ Ryder went on. ‘They were isolated up there on the mountain, and he carried all the gear that patrollers carry, torches, shovels and the like. He held all the cards. Only Bruno knew Celia was with him, and Smythe had something on him.’
‘Poor bloody Bruno,’ Lew said with a sigh. ‘He was blackmailed into covering up what he thought was an accident. No wonder he was shocked when you told him Celia had been murdered. It had already ruined his life.’
‘Yep. He’ll be charged too, but his limited involvement will no doubt come out in the end.’
‘If only Bruno had gone to the police and told them where Celia was. All of this would have come out fifty years ago.’
Ryder nodded. ‘But Bruno knew there were plenty of others who could attest to him dealing weed in the area, so he did Smythe’s bidding.’
‘So, did Smythe actually admit to cold-blooded murder?’ asked Lew.
‘Pretty much.’
‘What’s his version?’ Lew urged, an impatient edge to his voice.
‘That Nigel hit Celia and she was adamant she wanted to leave the village. He’d been out skiing when she turned up to bottom station on foot. Apparently, they were involved, and he made a split-second decision to go with her. Then the lift stopped. The radio was on the blink. They were in a bad physical state up there. It was freeze to death or jump. He remembers coming around after the fall. Celia was crying and saying she couldn’t feel her legs, that she was numb from the waist down. It didn’t cross his mind that her legs could have been numb from the cold—he figured she’d suffered a spinal injury. He panicked. He knew they had to get back to the village, that they wouldn’t survive a night on the mountain. Then he says he has a faint recollection of picking up a jagged rock, and then everything became a blur.’
‘Do you believe him?’
‘I do. Harriet said her injuries were consistent with being hit with a hammer or a rock.’
‘So, the murder wasn’t premeditated?’ asked Lew.
‘He didn’t intend to kill her when they first went up, but once his future was threatened everything changed.’
‘Yes. If he’d got her back down to the village, Celia could have told all.’
For a few moments neither of them spoke, both men lost in their thoughts.
‘Harriet was right,’ Lew said eventually.
‘Yep. She just had it the wrong way around. She thought Celia had been bludgeoned in the head and then thrown from a height, most likely down the tree well. As it turns out, they both jumped from the chairlift, and Smythe did the rest.’
‘Do you think he’ll plead some kind of mental impairment?’
‘Yes—he’ll try to play up the stressful conditions and the life- and-death situation up there.’ Ryder pushed his coffee cup away. ‘Doesn’t matter. Libby’s murder was premeditated. We have conclusive DNA evidence to prove that. Aidan Smythe is going away for a very long time.’
Lewicki took off his glasses and began cleaning them with a cloth from his case. ‘So, how’s his wife?’
Ryder looked towards the windows, where streets lights were starting to come on outside. ‘Devastated. Their children are on their way.’
‘Jesus,’ Lewicki said with a sigh, putting his glasses back on. ‘What a fall from grace. The sporting hero, the guest of honour and star of Winterfest, charged with double homicide.’
‘Yeah, it’s pretty bad, certainly not the kind of publicity the Gordons had been hoping for.’
‘I felt so sorry for his wife when we went up to their room,’ said Lew. ‘She was so confused and upset. She didn’t know where he’d gone.’
‘Thanks again for taking care of that part. I knew I could rely on you.’ Ryder reached out and laid a hand on Lew’s back for a second.
‘Oh, it was all right. I took a couple of the other boys with me. They searched the room while I talked to her. That’s when they found the matching ski strap in his bag. She had no idea what was going on at that point. It sank in when we took his shaving gear and other stuff from the bathroom though.’
‘She didn’t hear him leave the morning he left to murder Libby?’
‘She’s still jetlagged. Been taking sleeping pills ever since she got here.’
‘Well, thanks again.’
‘Hey, I owed you. There was so much I missed first time round.’
‘You’re still the best detective I know, Lew.’
Lewicki was quiet for a few moments. Then he gave a brief smile. ‘I wonder if all this has fuelled Daisy’s desire to become a police prosecutor.’
Ryder stifled a yawn. ‘I hope not. I heard from Inspector Gray this morning. Some people have come forward in the Hutton case. I need Flowers on the job.’
‘Then you better get him in here to Canberra. We’ll have to shout him one last turmeric latte, or whatever shit it is he drinks, if you’re going to be staying on in Monaro for a while.’
Ryder chuckled. He hadn’t given Flowers the news yet.
‘I’ve been meaning to ask how he came to be your partner.’
‘I gave recruitment my preferences, but they chose Flowers. Saw something special in him, apparently.’ Ryder smirked. ‘Maybe HR do know what they’re talking about.’
Lew stood up with a groan. He looked as bone weary as Ryder felt. ‘Probably scored well on one of those bloody psychometric tests. Anyway, I’d better get home to my wife or I won’t have one soon. And remember what I told you before.’
‘I promise. I won’t go back to Sydney without seeing Annie.’
‘Not that.’
Ryder frowned. ‘What then?’
Lew pressed his lips together and paused, as though weighing up what he was about to say. ‘Sometimes bad things happen when people are trying to do the right thing. Take Bruno: he was just doing his job and trying to help Celia; what happened next ruined his entire life. You were trying to save two innocent children when a terrible thing happened to your family.’ He pointed a finger a
t Ryder. ‘Let that be a lesson to you. Don’t let it ruin your entire life, as hard as it is. Do you get what I’m saying?’
‘I get it,’ Ryder said around the muscles constricting in his throat. His body was weary, his mind tired, his head aching from trying to piece everything together. And while he hadn’t wanted the Delaney case in the beginning, maybe it would be the case that would change his life after all.
‘Thanks, Lew. Night.’
Thirty-eight
‘You have a visitor.’ The nurse with the sunny face and twinkling blue eyes smiled down at Vanessa. ‘Are you up to seeing anyone today, possum?’
Vanessa lowered the magazine she’d been trying to read, though the relentless throb behind her eyes made it impossible to concentrate on anything. ‘Who is it?’
‘A handsome detective,’ the nurse said with a wink. ‘He called in yesterday too, but we told him it was only family allowed. He’s literally cooling his heels out here.’
‘I’ve been waiting all day,’ she heard Ryder say, an impatient edge to his voice. ‘I really need to speak to her.’
Vanessa nodded. ‘It’s all right. Send him in.’
He strode into the room before the nurse had finished speaking. He looked exactly the same as the first time she’d set eyes on him at The Rambling Wombat’s Kids’ Club. Dark hair pushed up at the front, tie awry. Only the vertical frown between his eyebrows had changed. It was deeper than ever. In his hand was a small cane basket wrapped in cellophane and pink ribbon.
He approached the bed slowly, his height making the sterile room with the IVs and beeping machines look even smaller.
‘Hi,’ he said quietly, putting the basket on her bedside table. His concerned gaze roamed her face then moved to the marks on her wrists where he’d slapped on the handcuffs. ‘I tried to see you earlier. Can I … sit down?’
She nodded, watching as he brought a chair close. His face was drawn with tired lines, and when he sat down it was with a weary sigh.
‘Smythe had emergency surgery for a broken shoulder but he’s awake now. He has some kind of heart issue. His surgeon said he’ll pull through without a problem though, thanks to you putting him on ice. You saved his life, Vanessa.’
Anger welled up inside her. ‘I almost didn’t bother. I nearly let him die.’
‘But you didn’t. You even gave him CPR. You made the right choice.’
‘I hate him.’ She spat out the words, unable to stop, not caring what Ryder thought of her in that moment. ‘He forced me to choose between good and evil, and evil almost won.’ She pushed herself up higher in the bed. ‘Do you know how I feel, knowing I have it in me to do that? To just let someone die?’
‘Everyone has it in them,’ he said quietly, ‘if they’re pushed far enough.’
‘Is that what you thought, when you first saw me in the snow?’
He considered her question, his gaze holding hers so intently she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. ‘My first thought was that you’d snapped and killed him in self-defence.’
‘I didn’t snap,’ she retorted. Why was she so furious at everybody? At Benson for asking her to go out there. At the others for not keeping up. At Smythe for almost murdering her and for not dying. And at Ryder. Most of all Ryder, for treating her like a criminal.
‘I didn’t snap,’ she said again. ‘I made a cognisant decision to line him up and ram him. I was stopping him from getting away. I was doing it for Libby.’ And for you, she wanted to say, but he’d learn that over her dead body.
He nodded, seemingly unfazed by her anger. ‘Tell me what happened.’
Vanessa took a deep breath and tried to stay calm as she took him through the events. When she finished by telling him of her challenge to Smythe to take on ‘a strong woman for a change’ she saw a rueful smile tug at the corners of his lips, as though he hadn’t expected anything less.
‘He drove right at me. That should have been enough for me to let him die, but I could see he was breathing. He was cyanosed around the mouth and on the eyelids, which made me think there might be something going on with his heart. It reminded me of something I’d witnessed overseas.’ Needing to do something with her hands, Vanessa straightened the edges of the bedsheet. ‘A man, in his fifties, had a massive heart attack on the slopes. Turns out he was the luckiest guy in the world—a cardiologist just happened to be skiing behind him. He stopped and gave the man CPR. Then, he ripped his clothing until the man was naked to the waist. He grabbed a shovel off one of the ski patrollers and covered him in snow. Basically, it simulated the man being put on ice until he could be airlifted to the nearest hospital.’ She glanced at Ryder. He was leaning forward, elbows resting on the arms of the chair, hands clasped in front of him. And like the first time he’d interviewed her at the inn, he wasn’t taking notes.
‘Did he live?’ he asked.
‘He did. I was so happy for his wife and kids who were there with him. They looked like a nice family.’ She gazed into Ryder’s eyes, sadness sweeping through her and dampening her anger. ‘When you save a life, you want it to be someone worth saving, don’t you?’
He didn’t say anything, but the sympathy in his eyes brought a lump to her throat.
‘I mean, what’s to be gained from saving someone like Smythe?’ she asked. ‘So his wife and children can visit him in prison for the rest of his days?’
‘No. So Celia’s family and Libby’s family have a chance to see justice done. You’ve given them that. You saved a human life, Vanessa, but it’s up to others to decide if he’s innocent or guilty, not you.’
‘I know.’ She winced as pain shot through her temples. ‘But he killed my friend. He thought he was killing me. You know what she said to me when she asked if she could sleep on the trundle in my room?’ Try as she might, Vanessa couldn’t stop her lips from trembling. ‘She said, “You’re a lifesaver.” I can’t stop thinking about that. Why couldn’t he have just died out there?’
Ryder nodded quietly. ‘He would have done a lot of people a favour if he had, including his poor wife.’
The thought of Carmel Smythe drained some of the anger out of her. ‘Do you think she had any idea?’
‘Probably not.’ Ryder shifted in the chair. ‘Let me tell you something,’ he went on. ‘Usually when we interview a spouse, or a friend, or a neighbour of someone who’s committed a crime, it’s like listening to a song on permanent loop. You couldn’t meet a nicer person, they say. It’s totally out of character, they say. I can’t imagine them doing such a thing. If it’s shown me anything, it’s that you can never really know someone.’
‘Is that why you pulled your gun on me?’
‘No. I’d already drawn my firearm. I thought … It looked like—well, like you’d witnessed Smythe’s death at the very least. I couldn’t know the circumstances at a glance.’ He sighed. ‘Look, people can turn on themselves after they’ve experienced a trauma like you had.’ His voice wavered a little. ‘I’ve been there, Vanessa, I know. That’s why I put the handcuffs on you. It was for your own safety.’
‘You pointed a loaded gun at me,’ she whispered, remembering how she’d stared, disbelieving, into the black, threatening hole in the barrel. ‘You were terrifying.’
He ran the tips of his fingers over tired eyes then clasped his hands together again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to do it. I don’t know what else to say.’
‘I can’t … un-see that.’
He nodded. ‘I understand. But, like you told Lew to tell me when you went out there, you were just doing your job. I was doing mine.’
Ryder saw a change in her then, as though his words had cut through the trauma and taken the fight out of her. He worried at the effects of her concussion, and the medication she’d been given for shock. He saw how she winced every time she turned her head, and he could only imagine the nauseating headache the whiplash would have caused.
Now wasn’t the time to tell her of his feelings, or of how scared he’d b
een for her out there. He was desperate to reconnect with her in some way, but this wasn’t about him.
‘I know you were just doing your job,’ Vanessa said, wearily laying her head back on the pillow. ‘I can imagine how bizarre that scene must have looked.’
Ryder took a chance then. ‘If you ever doubt yourself, remember you were your best self then, not your worst. You were a sight to behold, standing there soaked in blood and clutching your weapon. You’d fought for your life and you’d won, Vanessa. I can’t un-see that … nor do I want to.’ He reached out and offered her his hand, resting it on the bed beside her, palm up.
Before she could take it—or not—the door burst open, and a woman rushed in, a small child perched on her hip. ‘Oh, my God, Vanessa! I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’
Ryder retracted his hand as the anxious woman made a beeline for the bed. He stood up as she set the child down on the floor then leaned over the bed to put her arms around Vanessa. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It’s okay, Eva, settle down. I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure?’ came the woman’s muffled reply.
‘I’m sure. I have concussion, bruises and sprained muscles. I’ll be out of here before you know it.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ The woman brushed Vanessa’s hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. ‘Everyone knew Charlotte’s was shut down but, when I spoke to you, you insisted you were fine.’
Vanessa caught Ryder’s eye, and the woman swung around.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, coming around the bed to greet him. ‘I’m Eva. Vanessa’s sister.’
He could see the resemblance. She was older than Vanessa by a few years, and quite a bit shorter, but she had the same eyes and the same easy smile.
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