The Cliff-Top Killer (The Sydney Harbour Hospital Series Book 8)

by Chris Taylor

  Helen’s decisions and actions would ruin them. Life would never be the same again. He’d have to move, probably out of the city, to some backwater town where nobody had ever heard of him or his crazy wife who’d made it her life’s ambition to murder gay men.

  It was all fucked up and would be that way from the moment he picked up the phone. But otherwise, what was he to do about it? He couldn’t pretend she hadn’t told him that she’d murdered three innocent men. And that there’d be more. By staying silent, he was guilty too, and silence was as good as condoning her actions. That thought was completely unacceptable.

  With the thoughts going around and around inside his head, he sighed heavily and finally picked up the phone. When it was answered on the third ring, he gulped in relief.

  * * *

  Shelby had barely touched the “send” button on her phone when it rang in her hand. Her heart leaped. Taking Dimitri’s advice to heart, she’d texted Samuel, hoping he was available and ready to talk. Had he been thinking of her, too? Was he sorry about their fight?

  She barely glanced at the screen before answering the call. “Samuel, I just sent you a message. I—”

  “I’m sorry, Shelby. It’s your father. Where are you?”

  She frowned in confusion. “Oh, Daddy. It’s you. I was expecting someone else. Why are you calling?” she finally remembered to ask.

  “I need to talk to you, Shelby. Where are you?”

  “I’m at home. I don’t work until this afternoon. What do you need to talk about? Can’t we do it over the phone?”

  “I’d rather do it in person. Do you have time to drop by?”

  “At the office?” she asked.

  “Yes. Is that okay?”

  Shelby thought of the plans she’d made to head over to Samuel’s condo and have a heart to heart. She could probably swing by her father’s office in the city first and then continue on over to Bondi. As long as the discussion with her father didn’t go on for too long, she should have plenty of time to fit both of them in before she had to be home to get ready for work. With a bit of luck, Samuel might also be rostered on the evening shift and she could catch up with him again on her break. She was working on the assumption things would work out between them and by the time night fell, they’d be together, reassuring each other of their love, and back on track.

  “Um, yes, I guess so. I’ll drop by as soon as I’m dressed.”

  “Dressed? Shelby, it’s gone eleven.”

  “I had a late night, Daddy,” she said dryly. “Give me half an hour.”

  “Great.”

  Her father sounded relieved and once again, she frowned. “Is everything all right, Daddy?”

  He took his time answering. Shelby’s concern ratcheted up a notch.

  “I’m fine, honey,” he eventually replied. “It’s not me. It’s your mother.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Momma? What’s wrong with her?”

  “I… I don’t want to talk to you about it over the phone, Shelby. Come in to my office. We’ll talk here.”

  “Just tell me she’s all right,” she pleaded. “She hasn’t been taken to hospital, has she? It isn’t a heart attack?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  Her father sounded so definite, Shelby relaxed a little. She could handle anything other than to be told her mother had suffered a heart attack. It was so unlikely, given how fit and healthy she was, but still… People who looked fit and healthy on the outside weren’t always that way on the inside. Helen Gianopoulos wouldn’t be the first fit and healthy-looking person to have her heart give out.

  In record time, Shelby dressed and caught a train into the city. She made it to her daddy’s building a little after eleven-thirty. Dressed in a tailored, short-sleeve blouse and a clean pair of cut-off denim shorts, she smiled at Jennifer and asked to see him.

  “He’s on the phone, Shelby,” her father’s secretary replied. “I’m sure he won’t be too long. Take a seat. I’ll let you know when he’s free.”

  Shelby murmured her thanks and took a seat on the architecturally designed two-seater that looked more comfortable than it was. Flicking through the latest edition of Vogue, she tried not to think about why her father had asked her to come. Something to do with her mother, but it wasn’t a health issue. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Your dad will see you now, Shelby.”

  Once again, Shelby murmured her thanks then stood and walked the short distance down the hall. She put her hand up to knock on the door that led to his office, but the panel opened beneath her knuckles. Her father stood on the other side.

  “Daddy! How are you? I came as quickly as I could. What’s going on?”

  He ushered her into the room and gave her a brief hug. “Thanks for coming, Shelby. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  She stared at him and a lump of dread settled into her stomach. “What do you mean, you didn’t know who else to call?” she asked cautiously. “What’s happened, Daddy?”

  As she watched, the color slowly leached out of his face until he looked pale and old and gray. Her alarm increased. What was going on? Her father was acting most peculiar and he still hadn’t told her what had triggered his strange call. Suddenly impatient, she urged him once again.

  “Daddy, I’m meeting Samuel shortly. Can you please just tell me what’s so important you couldn’t discuss it over the phone? I’ve made a special trip into the city because you asked me to and now that I’m here, you can’t bring yourself to speak to me. I—”

  “Your mother confessed to me last night that she killed those three men on the cliffs of Bondi.”

  Shelby stared at him in stunned amazement. If he’d told her he’d booked a one-way ticket to the red planet, she couldn’t have been more shocked.

  “I beg your pardon? I don’t think I heard you right,” she replied and tried on a smile. Her lips felt dry and taut and with the echoes of what he’d just said reverberating in her head…she couldn’t pull off any kind of smile.

  “You heard me right,” her daddy said quietly.

  Shelby shook her head. “Hang on, I thought you just said Momma confessed to killing those poor men on the cliffs near North Bondi.”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  She scoffed in disbelief. “That can’t be right. Momma might be a lot of things, but she’s definitely not a killer.”

  Her father sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly across his face. “You’re not listening, Shelby. Your mother confessed. She showed me the bloody shirt. Literally. It was a Sydney Kings team jersey, like they reported in the news and it was covered in blood. How would she get such a thing if she didn’t have something to do with it?”

  All of a sudden, Shelby felt lightheaded. She felt around for something to hold onto and found the back of a chair. Her fingers tightened around it in a death grip. Blood pounded in her ears, making it hard for her to hear. She saw her father’s lips moving, but only made out a few of the words.

  “Gold…onyx…Melbourne…cap.”

  “I thought you said you got those things from your…male friend?” she accused.

  “I thought I did. He… He told me he’d left me a gift. When I found the cap and ring, I thought they were from him. But now I know different. It wasn’t him at all. It was your mother. It was her all along.”

  “Are you saying Momma took those things off the murder victims and gave them to you?” Shelby was appalled at the thought.

  “She killed them, Shelby! At least, that’s what she said. Never in my life would I have thought her capable of it, but what do you want me to say? She confessed to killing them. She showed me the bloody shirt. She said she was on a mission to rid the world of homosexuals, one gay man at a time. She even threatened me. I—”

  Shelby tuned out. She had a sudden frantic thought of Dimitri. He’d left home not long before she did, with a promise to talk to their mom. He’d headed off to the train station whistling and with a bo
unce to his step that Shelby hadn’t seen for a long time. Now, the thought of him breaking the news to their mom that he was gay filled her with dread.

  “Where’s Momma?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, I guess she’s at home. She didn’t mention to me she had any appointments. Then again, we haven’t been sharing each other’s diaries a lot lately. Why do you ask?”

  “Dimitri’s on his way over there. He’s going to tell her he’s gay.”

  “What?”

  The shock on her father’s face might have been laughable if the situation hadn’t been so serious. From what her daddy had said, her mother was unstable, perhaps even insane. She’d murdered three innocent people, all because they were gay. Who knew what she might do if Dimitri confessed to being gay, too.

  “Dimitri’s gay, Daddy. He has been for a long time—probably forever. It’s the reason he’s not interested in girls and why he gets annoyed with you every time you discuss them. He’s on his way home right now to come out to Momma. He thought she might be more understanding than you.”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand!” her father bellowed, looking hurt and confused and angry all at once.

  “Daddy, this is not the time for your theatrics. We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I need to call Dimitri and tell him not to say anything to Momma. Whether she killed those men or not, to tell you she did is way past weird. There’s something wrong with her. I don’t know whether she’s insane or delusional or, God heavens, if she’s actually telling the truth, but I do know we need to get Dimi out of there while we can.”

  “Yes, of course,” her father replied in a tone slightly less angry.

  Shelby picked up her handbag and riffled through it for her phone. “I’ll call Dimi. You call the police.”

  “The police?”

  Her head snapped up in surprise. She stared at him. “Yes, Daddy. The police. They need to become involved. You’re going to hate the publicity, but we can’t deal with this on our own. What if Momma did kill those people? We can’t pretend she never said anything. She could kill again. Let the police handle it. They’re the professionals. They’re used to this kind of thing.”

  Her father shook his head, frowning. “But the media will have a field day. I can’t take the risk—”

  “Just do it!” she cried and scrolled frantically through her contacts for Dimitri’s number.

  She glanced over at her father and saw him pick up his phone. A little of the tension went out of her. And then her call to her brother went through to his voicemail and the ache in her stomach intensified. Leaving a brief message for him to keep his mouth shut until he’d spoken to her, she ended the call.

  “I’m heading over there,” she said and started across the office for the door.

  Her father nodded and pointed to the phone which he now held up to his ear. She gave him a thumbs-up and left, all the time, praying Dimitri was safe.

  * * *

  Rodriguez Gomez listened to the voicemail message left by Alexei for the fifth time. He smiled with contentment. Alexei wanted to meet with him, to talk. A surge of excitement flooded Rodriguez’s veins and he nearly jumped out of his seat. The woman next to him on the bus threw him the evil eye and he forced himself to settle down again.

  Alexei wanted to talk to him urgently and this time of the day, that meant at his office. Things didn’t get any better! Rodriguez had never been allowed anywhere near Alexei’s place of work. It was off limits, like so many other public places. But that was all about to change. Alexei was finally ready to declare to the world they were in love! Rodriguez couldn’t believe it! He’d even worn his favorite purple trousers and silky lime-green shirt for the occasion. Alexei loved that shirt. And Rodriguez loved Alexei.

  The bus came to a halt at Martin Place. Rodriguez jumped off and made a beeline for his lover’s building. Impatiently, he threaded his way through the throngs of people enjoying an early lunch. He passed the fountain and thought about how the water rushed in time with the joy that raced through his veins. Soon, very soon, the whole world would know Alexei Gianpoulos was his.

  The building that housed his lover’s office towered above him. His heart leaped with excitement. With joyful strides, he entered the elevator and pressed the button for the fifteenth floor. With every passing second, his anticipation grew. The moment he’d been waiting for was about to happen. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open and all at once, he found himself in a wide open office space furnished with a single reception desk and a small couch. He went up to the woman who sat behind the counter.

  “Excuse me, I’m here for Alexei Gianopoulos.”

  The woman looked over her glasses at him and frowned. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. Yes. That is, Alexei needs to speak to me.”

  The woman continued to regard him with a stern expression on her face. “I see. And you are…?”

  “Rodriguez,” he supplied with a wide smile. “Rodriguez Gomez.”

  She lowered her gaze and picked up a phone and spoke quietly into the hand piece. A moment later, she ended the call and looked back up at him.

  “I’m sorry, Mr Gomez. Mr Gianopoulos has declined to see you at this time. Perhaps you could make another appointment?”

  Rodriguez frowned in confusion. “Declined to see me? No! He can’t do that! He sent me a message. He told me he wanted to talk to me!”

  The woman remained unmoved. “That might be so, Mr Gomez, but I’m sorry, you’ll have to do it some other time. Right now, Mr Gianopoulos is busy.”

  Rodriguez stared at her in incomprehension. This couldn’t be happening! Pain and anger surged through him. He refused to allow Alexei to ruin this day. He moved closer to the receptionist and leaned over the counter as far as he could go.

  “You tell your boss to get his ass out here or I’ll kick up such a din, he’ll wish to God he’d done as I said.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move.

  “Pick up that phone and call him!” Rodriguez yelled, his temper getting the better of him. “Now!”

  * * *

  Jared Buchanan re-read Maureen Nelson’s statement for the umpteenth time, trying to pinpoint something he might have missed. The crime scene photos from all three murders were spread out on the desk in front of him. Maureen was sure the person she’d passed on the path immediately below where the murders had taken place was a man, but she was basing this presumption purely on the physical size of the person she’d seen. It was equally possible the person could have been a woman, albeit a large one.

  The fact that the first blows all came from behind was significant. It meant that it was more likely the perpetrator hadn’t engaged the victims in conversation, or anything else. It was like the perp had lain in wait for someone to come along and then had pounced.

  A woman killer fit this scenario better. The area was a well-known meeting place for gay men. A woman would stand out, be remembered, especially at that time of the night. A man could have simply pretended to be there for sex, like the victims presumably were. A man, engaged in conversation with the victims, wouldn’t have had to come up from behind. They could have simply taken the victims by surprise in the middle of a faux sexual act, catching them off guard.

  But Jared had no proof either way and that was really pissing him off. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw with irritation. The phone at his elbow rang. He absently picked it up.

  “Bondi Detectives. This is Detective Sergeant Buchanan speaking.”

  “Is this the detective handling the investigation of the Cliff-top Killer?”

  The voice was surprisingly calm. Jared immediately tensed. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

  There was silence on the other end. Finally, he heard a heavy sigh. “My name is Alexei Gianopoulos. I’m a senior partner at Harton and Wentworth. I think my wife might be the person you’re looking for.”

  Jared held his cool, even as his heart rate took off at a gallop
. The police received prank calls all the time. This one might be no different. He refused to get excited until he knew all the facts and even then, he’d want hard evidence.

  “What makes you say that, Mr Gianopoulos?”

  “She has the trophies, the things you were looking for.”

  Jared’s excitement increased. Dragging a pen and a pad toward him, he began to scribble some notes.

  “Can you come to the station, Mr Gianopoulos?”

  “No, I need to get home. I’m afraid my wife might do something stupid. You see, my son—”

  The man broke off. Jared frowned. “What about your son?”

  “Look, don’t worry about my son. You need to look into Helen, my wife. I think she’s dangerous.”

  “I really need to take a statement from you, Mr Gianopoulos. If you can’t come to the station, perhaps I can meet you at home.”

  Jared heard another heavy sigh in his ear. “All right, I guess that’s the way it has to be. I’ll see you there.”

  After giving Jared his details, the man ended the call. Jared stared at the phone in his hand in bemusement. The caller had sounded elderly. Surely it wasn’t possible an elderly woman had caused the trauma to his victims? Then again, perhaps the wife was significantly younger. It was always a possibility.

  Knowing there was nothing to be done but to go and attend the home in Bondi, Jared picked up his keys, informed his boss where he was going and asked one of the other detectives to ride along. Ten minutes later, they were on the road.

  * * *

  No sooner had Alexei hung up the phone and it rang again. He picked it up and answered it.

  “Yes, Jennifer?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I have a man by the name of Rodriguez Gomez out here. He says you wanted to see him.”

  Alexei was filled with a surge of nerves and apprehension. Rodriguez was here! At his office! What the hell was he going to do? When he’d left the message for him, he’d expected the man to call him, not turn up at his place of work. Shit. The day was going to hell faster than he could keep up. One thing he knew, he didn’t have time to deal with Rodriguez.