After Ariel: It started as a game

by Diana Hockley

  ‘No, I don’t think so and I doubt he had anything to do with his daughter’s death, but he certainly has it in for Pamela.’

  ‘Have you spoken to her yet?’

  ‘No, I haven’t had a chance, but I’ll ring her tonight.’ I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. I gave him the latest news about Pamela being vouched for by police manning the road block at the Maxwell murder.

  ‘Well, that’s a relief. I expect Hamilton will be pleased about that!’ He adopted his paternal expression. ‘You need to go home. We’ll let you know if anything breaks. Reports coming in all the time, so there’s bound to be a break soon.’

  ‘Well, so far the sod’s managed to cover his tracks – the mobile, no airline ticket in her handbag, condoms presumably flushed, sheets washed, dishes done. Do you think he actually planned it?’

  Evan remained silent for a while, rubbing his hand over his jaw. ‘No. I think it was love play which got out of hand. I reckon the cleaning up in the house was done before they went out, so Ariel’s parents wouldn’t know she had someone there for the night.’

  ‘Hm. I think you could be right, but I still think the Humphries killing is tied in somehow.’

  ‘Okay, so give it to me.’

  ‘Right. Apart from my gut you mean?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘There’s something about the broken neck...well, more about the power involved in both murders. It would take a great deal of strength to do that. The Humphries woman was incredibly fit, as strong as most men but she got overpowered and her neck broken.’

  ‘Are you basing the connection between the cases on the strength of the perp then?’

  ‘What are the chances of there being two separate strongmen loose in the West End within the same twenty four hours?’

  ‘Still, it doesn’t mean squat unless you can marry them up.’

  ‘Trust you to shoot me down in flames!’ I laughed and poked my tongue out at him.

  He grinned. ‘I’m not saying you’re wrong, and we all know about your famous intuition, but even for you, this is a stretch. If it was the perp from the park, how would he know where she lived? I’m playing Devil’s Advocate here.’

  ‘Well, for a start almost anyone she worked with. Adam McIntyre stalked someone else into bed that night. Roma station has confirmed that, and the only thing missing is Humphries’ best camera. Doesn’t that say he wanted what was in it? The SD card?’

  ‘Hm. Perhaps he was disturbed before he could look for anything else. He had to come through the front door though, because there’s no sign of a break in and it was unlocked.’

  ‘It was a cold night so why would she go outside again? She hasn’t got a pet to let out for a pee. No, he must have got her to open it. A simple knock would do it and from what Pam said, the chain wasn’t on when she got home, so either Humphries forgot to put it on or she deliberately opened the door to a caller. Easy peasy.’

  We stared at each other for along moment and then burst out laughing.

  ‘Look at us! We’ll solve this one on our own yet!’ I chuckled. ‘We know that the last time anyone – apart from the taxi driver – saw Marigold alive, was when she left the Concert Hall. The driver says he waited until she got inside the house and shut the door and he didn’t see anyone hanging around. He was probably counting his money and didn’t really look, but he maintains that he always checks that his female passengers get inside their houses before he leaves and even though he’s a weedy little creep, he’s also a grandfather, so I believe that. We can’t find anyone who saw someone following her, so the perp had to know where she lived, which brings us back to her workplace or friends.’

  This time we both sighed.

  Evan looked at me intently. ‘Why don’t you go home and get some rest, it’s almost home time and we’ve a big day tomorrow. You’ll tell me what else you’re hiding when you’re ready.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come on, I’m a husband and father of four – well, five in six months time. I recognise “the look.”’

  ‘Five! Good heavens, mate, don’t you know what’s causing it?’ I asked, trying to sidetrack him. ‘Congratulations, to you both.’

  ‘Thanks, Susan. And I’m right, aren’t I?’

  I contemplated lying through my teeth, but Evan and I had started out as constables together. He was one of the few male officers who had supported me all through the debacle that was my first marriage to David. I owed him. ‘Yes, you’re right. David doesn’t know yet and heaven only knows how he’s going to feel about ‘double the joy” again.’

  ‘For crying out loud! Really?’

  ‘Yep and at my age. At least the doctor’s pretty sure its twins again. I’ve an ultrasound booked for this Friday. I only hope David’s home to go with me.’ Oh, my love.

  ‘You know Genevieve and I will help all we can, even though we’re going to be in Warwick. It’s no more than two hours from here.’

  ‘Yes, I know and thank you, Evan. I’ve always appreciated you have my back.’

  ‘And you mine.’ He stood, came around the desk and put his arm around my shoulders to give me a squeeze. ‘I’m on call tonight and I’ll make sure you hear any excitement that eventuates. You haven’t heard from David yet?’

  ‘No, nothing. Pete Moffat is dodging my calls too. But David said before he left, he’d phone as soon as he’s coming back. He promised. No matter the time of day or night.’

  ‘You know you can rely on David, Susan. If they’re flat out on a case up there, then he might not be able to call. I know you’ll hear as soon as he can do it. I know it’s hard but just sit tight. I have a lot of faith in David and you should have too. Now get home and rest up, mate.’

  I got to my feet slowly. Being home on my own didn’t appeal one bit, especially with my suspicions about David’s safety, but I had to feed the animals, phone the girls and definitely get some rest. Perhaps I would call Melanie and coax her into coming over for the night and if she hesitated, I’d pull the older sister’s prerogative and twist her arm. If that didn’t work, I was sure I could find something with which to bribe her.

  Like chocolate.

  CHAPTER 35

  Feast or Famine

  Pam

  Tuesday, 4.30PM

  I rushed out of the restaurant like a madwoman, so eager to get home, shower and get ready for my date with Anthony that I barely said goodbye to anyone. Ally would have loved to corner me for a talk but as she closed in I hissed, ‘Got a date, have to talk to you later.’ Her face lit up, but before she could fire questions at me I took off, almost running to the car. First stop, Goldie’s house to meet the locksmith, then home. Let’s hope the bugger’s not going to be late.

  A handsome young rooster was waiting by a tradesman’s van as I drove up. While he changed the locks on the back, front and garage doors, I wandered through the chaotic house again, trying not to look impatient. Even though Goldie had died here only a little over two days ago, I still felt that she would walk in the door at any moment. I’d have to ask Susan about when I could get a firm in to clean the whole place. Whatever, the house didn’t feel bad anymore and I was able to relax and make the locksmith, a cheerful youth with the rather odd name of name of Bergil, a cup of coffee. Whistling happily, he handed me the invoice, took my cheque and passed me the keys to everything. ‘What do you want to do with the old ones?’

  ‘They’re no use to anyone. You can take them back and use them somewhere else if you like.’ I handed the keys over and he put them into a cloth bag with the old locks.

  As I drove home, relieved to have gotten that out of the way, I thought about the luncheon. I’d had a great time catching up with my friends and meeting new musicians. Craig Douglas was an interesting man and I’d enjoyed spending time with him. He was contracted with the Pacific for the next six months, so I’d get to know him when I got back from the UK. Vlad, Bill and Lance had all made time to talk to me. Was I mistaken or had they not only treated me as a “star
” but flirted with me as well?

  They’d all asked me to dinner and Bill had invited me to go sailing with him when I got back from the UK. Woo hoo! Sailing? I’d never have picked him for a yachtsman in a month of Sundays. Without regret, I had declined, aware of Craig Douglas watching me. Would he make a move as well? I chuckled. When a woman finds someone she’s interested in after a long “man-less” drought, does she give off some sort of pheromone that tells the rest of them she’s desirable? No men around for yonks and then you have to beat them off with sticks!

  The girls from the orchestra were all friendly and seemed great fun, so the trip out west in two months time boded well and a great surge of happiness went through me. Things were looking up! A new man on the horizon, a thriving career – note in that order! – and my agent told me she was negotiating for another CD for Decca! What more could a girl want?

  The car seemed to find its own way into my parking spot under the block of units which kind of surprised me as it hadn’t been there before. I dragged out my bag, locked up and raced for the lift nearly knocking down my elderly neighbour who was just stepping in, dragging one of those little wheeled trolleys full of groceries after him.

  ‘Young lady, I’ll have you know I got here first so you don’t have to flatten me to make a point!’ Uh?

  ‘I’m so sorry, Mr Uqhart, I’m just excited. Heavy date tonight!’

  He peered at me over the top of his glasses. ‘Oh it’s you, Pam. Hear you did well on Saturday night.’

  I punched the button for the first floor. ‘Thank you Mr Uqhart, I’m just so relieved it went off well, but now...well, my cousin was killed the same night, so things aren’t too good,’

  ‘Ugh.’ He shook his head, not meeting my gaze. Some people are embarrassed by death and don’t know what to say. ‘Goodnight Pam.’

  I didn’t wait to see him shuffle into his unit, but raced to my door. Keying in the security code, I put the chain across and threw my keys into the coloured glass bowl on the kitchen table. Six o’clock and I had an hour and a half to get ready.

  Singing in the shower is not usually my thing, but this time it was different. Squawking merrily, I slapped gel around like it was going out of style, dried myself, hurled powder in every direction and then, wrapped in a towel, examined my wardrobe with a rather jaundiced eye. I threw several pairs of slacks and jeans on the bed, but nothing “grabbed” me. An electric blue wrap-around dress which I hadn’t worn for years cried piteously from its position at the very end of the row. Hoping it would still fit I tried it – Hallelujah! – make up and high-heeled sandals. At 183cms, finding a man who was around 195 meant someone “up there” had finally heard my pleas. I could actually wear heels! Oh for heaven’s sake, Pam; it’s only the first date.

  I am blessed, or some would say cursed, with a mane of thick curly fair hair, great ringlets of the stuff, which never seems to behave itself. Locked in mortal combat with my “crowning glory” I was less than pleased when the phone rang.

  ‘Pam, it’s Susan! Am I ringing at a bad time?’

  ‘No, not at all. I’ve got a date in about forty-five minutes, but there’s plenty of time for a chat!’

  ‘Yes, I know you’ve got a date. He confessed all to me a couple of hours ago!’ She laughed, and I relaxed a little.

  ‘Does this mean I’m not a suspect anymore?’

  ‘Well, I can’t discuss the case but no, you have a viable alibi, so unless you’re in cahoots with some nefarious individual, then you’re in the clear. So where’s Fudstuds taking you tonight?’

  Giggling at the nickname for the assassin, we settled down for what should have been a comforting chat, but something was “off.” I’d known Susan for almost five years and she had become a good friend of Mum and me, so I was pretty much “up” with the tone of her voice. Something was wrong but she was “cracking hardy.”

  ‘I can tell from your voice that you’re worried about something. Is it the case? Is everything all right with David?’

  ‘I always worry about my cases, Pam, you know that. No, nothing’s wrong, David’s fine. I just thought I’d give you a call. I spoke to John and he reckons Ros is doing well and should be able to go home early next week. Have you seen her?’

  Oh yeah, so nothing’s wrong, eh? Like hell. ‘Yes, I went to the hospital this morning and I’ll go tomorrow. She gets tired pretty quickly and she looks awful, but she’s insisting that she’s fine.’

  We laughed. The women’s answer for everything!

  ‘How’s John holding up?’

  ‘Just the same, you know him. Quiet and strong.’

  ‘So, Anthony Hamilton? Exciting things happening there? Even the Superintendent knows about it.’ I could tell Susan was dying to find out how close Anthony and I were.

  ‘Is he going to get into trouble?’

  ‘No, Pam. Even we cops know that love will always find a way. It’s going well then?’

  ‘Well, this is only the first date, so I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you, but...I really like him.’

  ‘Yeah, you and most of the female squad! No, don’t get me wrong, he’s not showing any sign of even looking sideways at any of them. He goes red around the gills when your name’s mentioned though!’

  We exchanged a few more pleasantries and gossip before she rang off. I spent the half hour before Anthony was due to arrive in a hysterical flutter. Just go with the flow and see where it takes you.

  I pinned my hair on top of my head, leaving a bit hanging over the little dressing on my head, then took it down again, plaited it and then ripped that out. Fumbling to roll it into a bun at the base of my neck and still leave the dressing covered, I nearly leaped out of my skin when the doorbell rang.

  Sporting a chocolate sports jacket, black T-shirt and jeans, boots and his normal stern expression, Anthony stepped across my threshold and before I could even greet him, took me in his arms, pressed me against the wall and kissed as though he wanted to eat me alive. Yum. His hands swept through my tangle of hair, sliding down my back over my derriere while I clung to his coat like a Cobbler’s Peg. His gorgeous, muscular body did all manner of things to me...including his extremely interesting package...

  Breathless, we pulled apart, grinning at each other like mad things. ‘I’m pleased to see you had the chain on the door.’ He smoothed my hair back from my face.

  Remembering my strenuous and noisy attempt to take it off and let him in, I giggled. ‘Well, I have to do what the cops tell me, don’t I?’ Pam, could you sound sillier if you tried?

  He gently touched the dressing. ‘When are the stitches coming out?’

  ‘They want to keep them in for another week. They’re itchy already!’

  He grinned. ‘That means the wound’s healing quickly! Are you ready?’

  He jingled his keys in his pocket. Is that programmed into men’s DNA, like toasting their bums in front of a roaring fire?

  As I grabbed my coat and bag and we swept out the door, something nagged at me. Somewhere today I’d seen something which should have been significant.

  CHAPTER 36

  A Little Break & Enter

  Dingo

  Tuesday, 7PM

  Would she ever leave the damned place? He waited in the park opposite the block of flats, hunched up in his quilted parka, hood pulled well down over his face to hide from observers and ward off the chilly night air. He’d settled into position where he could watch the front of the unit block and Pamela’s balcony simultaneously, relieved to see that the branches of the tree were still close enough for him to get across to the balustrade. No one had thought to cut them back after his recon’ Sunday afternoon.

  He would make his move once she’d gone out and the rest of the occupants of the block had settled down to watch TV. He had a small jemmy under his coat ready to prise the balcony door locks open. He stamped his feet, counting his steps, to keep the circulation working and contemplated going down to the shops for fish and chips – no not that – pe
rhaps a pie. Ariel and Marigold had been blessedly quiet, but he didn’t want to wake them. They’d only nag him. Nearby a tree full of lorikeets screeched, preparatory to roosting for the night. They would have irritated him, but if they kept up their racket long enough, they would be blessed cover for any noise he might make entering the unit.

  A blue car sped by, then a green one. Please God, no red ones... a white one pulled up next to the flats and disgorged a couple of women before the driver turned the car into the underground parking area. Talking animatedly, the women went into the foyer. A group of revellers came out of the pub down the road. As they came closer he counted them: eight. Even numbers and he was safe. They passed, laughing and punching each other on the shoulders, too drunk to notice anything untoward around them.

  He looked up at the glass doors leading onto Pam’s balcony, remembering how happy she’d been at lunch. Her face glowed, her eyes sparkled – only a man could bring that sort of glow to a woman’s face. He’d done it himself many times. He wondered who it could be. A musician? At twenty-eight, rising twenty-nine, Pammie-girl was getting a bit long in the tooth for some men. He knew all about the hangers-on, the corporate types who thought if their company sponsored an orchestra they had “squatter’s rights” on the female musicians. He’d been the target of female “corporates” himself, thrusting, controlling women who expected and received the homage of men who relied on their patronage when it came to the arts. He didn’t mind the thrusting when they were in bed, but otherwise...he spat on the ground.

  His prey’s head of wild curls came into view. She looked out of the window and then drew the curtains of what he was pretty sure was her bedroom. He hoped she kept the camera there, but the place was relatively small. He wondered if she kept it in her – no Marigold Humphries’ car, as she’d told him at lunch. That could be a problem but she’d also volunteered the information that she’d sold her car before she went overseas, and wasn’t it great that she had a car space allotted to her in the underground car park of her unit block. Unit 8. Wherever it was, she’d be taking care of the camera because it was a good Nikon, he knew that much. Perhaps after he got the SD card, he’d use it himself...no, better to get rid of it straight away. Pity.