“This isn’t a simple case of jealousy, and if it was, how did James manage to track him down? No-one, other than myself and my parents were aware that Brendan was even in New Zealand, let alone staying in that apartment. I purposely provided Brendan with this accommodation to ensure his safety, yet, within hours of Brendan visiting the Vaughn’s, he is brutally bashed and nearly killed. I’d like to know how he was found.”
“Why were you so intent on hiding him away?”
Adele bowed her head and took a breath. “Because of his history which has much to do with what happened last night.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Fourteen years ago, Brendan was accused of inventing a story regarding Mary Whittaker, who became director of the Security Intelligence Service.”
Cooper sat back, nodding. “He is that Brendan North. I was wondering.”
“He lost everything over that story,” Adele explained. “But he never gave up trying to prove the truth. We have since discovered that the man who met up with Mary was also in Paris at the same time she was murdered. Right now this man is in New Zealand, but probably not for much longer if he becomes aware that he is being investigated…”
“Miss Easton.” Cooper frowned and peered at Adele. “Are you saying that the man who met with Mary Whittaker, all those years ago, is responsible for the assault on Brendan North?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Adele saw the slight smile in Cooper’s surprised face. “Detective Cooper, I know how this sounds and what I’m up against, but I have evidence to support my claim, not as much as I had hoped, but enough that you need to start taking this seriously.”
“I take every case seriously. If you have evidence, I’d like to see it and I’d like a name.”
Adele shook her head. “Not before you know what you’re up against. The entire cyber network of New Zealand may have been compromised by this man. I’m not giving you a name until I know the proper authorities are behind this. If we lose him now, I stand to lose everything.”
Lance leant forward, his face hard and angry. “Be sure that if this is handled badly, there will be a full internal investigation and heads will roll. I intend to throw all extent of my political might behind this.”
Cooper looked back at them, not usually intimidated by anyone, but smart enough not to dismiss what they were telling her. She also knew Adele wasn’t the type to fabricate such a sensational story, without it having some substance. She turned to her male colleague who had remained silent throughout.
“Leave us, Sam.”
He frowned but got up and walked to the door, closing it after him. Cooper stared at Adele.
“I need to speak to my superior,” Cooper told them. “He may advise me to bring in another department to look at your allegations. I don’t know. I do know that we’re going to need more than just your hearsay.”
“I told you, I have evidence,” Adele insisted.
“That’s good, but let’s begin with a name.”
Adele stared back at her, biting her lip until she nodded. “His name is Dylan Tyler.”
* * * * *
“When are they going to leave?” Mairead sat on the deck, clutching her knees and looking back at the activity in her home. “They’ve been there for ages. What the fuck are they looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Vanessa frowned, also watching them. “They’re certainly being thorough.”
“Yeah, and now I’m minus my laptop.” Mairead rested her head on her knees and stayed silent. She ignored the sound of the door sliding open behind her.
“Mrs. Vaughn, the forensics team is leaving, but we are going to need you to accompany us to the city, to make a statement.”
Vanessa stood up, glaring down at the shorter female officer. “Why can’t she just make a statement here? What the hell was all that about, in there?”
Before the girl could answer, Mairead was up. “It’s alright. I’ll go with them. At least I might get some answers.”
“I’ll drive you in,” Vanessa stated firmly, still glaring at the officer. “Unless Mairead is under arrest for something, I’m fairly certain I can do that.”
“Mrs. Vaughn is not under arrest,” the officer replied. “You’re welcome to drive her in.”
Mairead looked at Sophie, hanging back awkwardly. She turned to Vanessa. “This isn’t fair on you or Sophie. I can go alone.”
Vanessa smiled and reached out to clasp Sophie’s hand. She drew her closer, sliding her arm around her waist. “I’ve warned Sophie that you and James don’t do anything in halves. It’s always big and dramatic.”
“Yeah,” Mairead smirked sadly. “But it’s not from the lack of hoping for a normal life. I’m sorry, Sophie. I’ll try to make this up to you somehow.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Sophie said kindly. “You must be going through hell. Have you any idea how this has happened?”
“Yes, and her name is Adele Easton,” Mairead replied bitterly. “I wish the bitch would just die and leave us the fuck alone.”
“Mairead,” Vanessa growled low. “Don’t let the police hear you talking like that. It won’t do James any favours.”
“I’m sorry, And I didn’t mean it anyway.”
“I’m dropping Sophie off at her apartment in the city,” Vanessa said. “And then I’m staying with you until we know what’s going to happen.”
When they went to leave the house, Mairead took a mournful look at cushions out of place in the lounge, doors to kitchen cupboards still open, and a general sense of disorder. It made James’ absence all the more blatant. She had a yearning to clean, to have it all back the way he liked it, orderly and neat.
Biting back tears, she took time to set the alarm and make sure the house was locked. Across the streets, there were people standing in their front yards, watching the sideshow. Mairead shook her head and quickly got into the back of Vanessa’s car.
It was a silent drive for Mairead, most of the way to the city. The women in front talked quietly with each other, sensing her need to wallow in solitude. As they entered the city, it felt as if the buildings were closing in on her, but she fought to keep calm.
Once Sophie had been dropped off at her apartment, Mairead was ready to talk.
“I’m scared, Vanessa. I can’t imagine what James is going through.”
Vanessa reached across to grip her hand. “Right now, James will be thinking about you, hoping that you aren’t falling apart. He’s been in far worse situations than this. Mairead, believe me. This won’t even faze him.”
Arriving at the police station, they were directed to sit down, but it was over an hour before Mairead was called and ushered into an interview room. For the first time since James had been arrested, she felt truly alone. The room was stark with just a table and four chairs.
Ten minutes later, the door opened. Mairead immediately assessed the two people who entered. One was the tall, slim woman she had seen at the house, looking to be in her thirties, attractive and dressed in a white open shirt and grey trouser suit. The man looked slightly older, his suit hanging open untidily, his shirt snug against a rounded belly. He had short receding hair, a moustache and goatee beard. They sat down across from her, the woman looking down at her folder before offering Mairead a smile.
“Hello again, Mrs. Vaughn. I’m Senior Detective Elizabeth Cooper and this is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Samuel Locke.”
Mairead stared at them blankly. She had never really made up her mind who she hated more, cops or journalists.
“I understand that you and James Vaughn were recently married.”
“Four months,” Mairead replied sourly.
“I know this must be difficult for you. Do you understand the allegations that have been made against your husband?”
“Yes and they’re wrong. James didn’t do anything.”
“Well, that’s what we trying to establish. Mrs. Vaughn.”
Mairead gritted her teeth. “Could you c
all me Mairead? I’m not used to a Mrs. Anything at the moment.”
“Okay, Mairead. We’d like you to recount your version of what happened yesterday.”
Taking a deep breath, Mairead told her the relevant details, beginning with seeing Brendan in her front yard. She kept it simple and close to the truth, as Dylan had instructed.
Cooper listened and studied Mairead intently. “What was James’ reaction to Brendan’s trespass onto your property?”
“He was ticked off with me, for chasing after him. He doesn’t like me putting myself in danger.”
“Did you argue about it?”
“No.”
“But you told James who Brendan was?”
“Yes.”
“A search was made on your laptop, regarding Brendan North’s history. Was that you or James?”
“It was me. I wanted to know why a car salesman was hanging around my house.”
“So was that the first time you had seen Mr. North?”
“Yes.”
“Even though he visited your club?”
“I didn’t see him there.”
“What about James? Did he mention seeing him at the club?”
“Yes.”
“Was that an amicable situation?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there. You’ll have to ask James.”
Cooper looked down to her notes. “You made a search about an old case, Brendan’s association with Mary Whittaker?”
“Yes, it all came up with his name and so I was curious, as many people get when they see something about sex and murder.”
“And did you discuss this with James?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was more interested in spending quality time with my husband.”
Cooper frowned. “You would think it would be an interesting topic worth discussing, during this time you wanted to spend with your husband.”
“No, talking about Brendan was the last thing on my mind.”
“So what did you talk about with James? How did you spend your afternoon with him?”
“We spent it intimately. I made a few grunts, groans and screamed occasionally, but I can’t remember either of us talking much.”
Cooper sat back, glancing at her wide-eyed colleague beside her and trying not to grin. “Okay, so we move on to when James left the house. Did you know why James was leaving?”
“He had received a call from the security company, saying the power was out and the alarm was unarmed. We’d had a break-in last week. He didn’t want to chance leaving the club unsecured.”
“So you witnessed this call?”
“No.”
“So as far as you know, there was no call, just James’ say so. Why didn’t you go with him?”
“I was tired. I didn’t want to have to go all the way into the city.”
“And what time was this?”
“About five.”
“And so you were home alone during this time that James was away.”
“Yes, except for when I called our friend Vanessa, when I was getting worried about him. She came over with her girlfriend and stayed with me.”
Cooper nodded and again looked down to her notes. It was a long interlude before she looked up again.
“One of your neighbours reported seeing a man leaving your premises at about 6pm and getting into a car that had just pulled into your driveway.”
Mairead felt a chill run through her. “I’m not aware of any visitors. I obviously didn’t hear the doorbell. I had headphones in, listening to music. They must have come and gone.”
“And you were completely alone, until your friends arrived, at what time?”
“About ten.”
“And what did you do during this time alone?”
“I cooked dinner.”
“Anything else?”
“I did some reading.”
Cooper nodded and pulled some notes in front of her. “According to your history, you returned to your previous search about this case involving Mary Whittaker. You looked up at least a dozen references.”
“It’s was an interesting case,” Mairead stated firmly.
“I agree,” Cooper smiled. “Mary Whittaker’s murder was never solved. So after all your research, do you think there was any substance to Brendan North’s allegations about Mary?”
“No. I think it was exactly as the courts described it, a drunken, rookie journalist trying to make a name for himself.” Mairead leaned forward on the table, glaring at Cooper. “You obviously have no further questions relating to my husband, and so this stops now, until I know what’s happened to him.”
Cooper nodded. “Your husband has been formally charged with grievous bodily harm and the attempted murder of Brendan North. He will be arraigned today at 3pm in the local court, at which time he can make a plea and apply for bail.”
Mairead swallowed, feeling choked with anxiety. “What happened to Brendan?”
“He was severely beaten. His jaw, nose, cheekbone, and eye socket were broken along with his arm. He’s currently in an induced coma. I can show you the photos if you wish.”
“No.” Mairead glared at her. “I don’t want to see anything like that.”
“Mairead, has James ever hit you?”
The question caught Mairead off guard and she shook her head, pausing before replying. “James has never hurt me.”
“You don’t sound sure of that.”
“My husband is not violent.”
“There’s a room in your house…”
“We’re kinky, alright,” Mairead offered angrily. “We practice a consensual lifestyle that might seem odd to you but is perfectly fucking fine with us.”
“So he does hit you?”
“Not in the way you are implying. It’s not domestic violence.”
“One would argue that there would be little difference.”
“Then one would also argue that there is no difference between consensual sex and rape, and they’d be fucking wrong.”
“Do you ever feel afraid of James?”
“No, I don’t. He’s the only person in the world I do feel safe with.”
“What about Dylan Tyler?”
Mairead frowned. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
“So, you do know this man?”
“Yes, I went to his exhibition and he gave me one of his works for my birthday.”
“I understand some of his work goes for six figures. That’s a generous gift.”
“Are you saying I’m not worth it?”
Cooper smiled. “No, I’m just trying to establish the degree of your friendship?”
“He visits from time to time.”
“And you both have a mutual friend in Esther Manning, I believe.”
Another unexpected question. “That’s news to me, but I don’t know enough about either of them, to know otherwise. They might know each other, but I wouldn’t know.”
“Weren’t you involved with the case she brought against Richard Lewis?”
“Not really. I was just happy she nailed the prick.”
“Do you know where Esther Manning is living?”
“Wouldn’t have a clue, and what the fuck has this got to do with James?”
“Do you know if James spoke to Dylan Tyler yesterday?”
“I doubt it. He had no reason to, and I repeat, what has Dylan got to do with any of this?”
“We’re simply following up leads.”
“Have you tried asking Dylan?”
“No. We don’t seem able to contact him. He is listed at an address in Porirua, his gallery, but the man who does live there hasn’t seen him in weeks. Maybe you have his phone number that we could get in contact with him.”
Mairead shrugged. “No I don’t, and you won’t find his number on our phones, or any calls made between us, because it doesn’t happen. We’ve seen him a handful of times and that’s all. Now, have you got anything relevant you want to ask c
oncerning my husband?”
“It’s all relevant. If we’re given leads we have to follow them up.”
“Then here’s a lead for you.” Mairead glared at her. “I got set up once for a crime I didn’t commit, by a woman who was trying to kill me. The only name that hasn’t been mentioned is Adele fucking Easton. I dare you to tell me she hasn’t got a hand in this.”
Cooper smiled thinly. “We’re not at liberty to discuss other potential witnesses, except those that are relevant to this investigation.”
Mairead gaped. “How is she not relevant, after what she’s done to me?”
“I’m aware of the history,” Cooper replied. “But I’m of the understanding that none of it has gone to trial, due to lack of evidence.”
“But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. James told me he was drugged and passed out for six hours. Doesn’t that suggest anything to you?”
“We won’t know until we have the report from toxicology and that can take some time, but we are looking at every angle, which is why I need to ask you one last question. Have you had an intimate or sexual relationship with Dylan Tyler?”
Mairead glared at her and slowly shook her head in disgust. “You said that was your last question? Good, because the answer is no and you can go to hell.”
She got up and walked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The screen came to life and Dylan casually tapped a key, making the volume louder. Sitting back, he watched the empty room, listening to voices, too far away to make out what they were saying.
Several minutes later, he scowled as Adele came into view and approached the laptop, until her face was filling his screen. Dylan was surprised to see how weary she looked, the light of her screen showed up deep shadows under red rimmed eyes. She was trembling slightly, her jaw was slack and her blank stare seemed to look right at him.
As he watched, her face became distraught. Shaking her head, she got up again, going to a white leather sofa where she lay down, curled up and put her head on the armrest.
Dylan turned to his own laptop to bring up what she had been looking at on her computer. His breath caught in his throat as he saw ‘Ivanchenko’ typed into the search bar.
Sins of the Master Page 28
