Private Sydney

by James Patterson

  His assistant instantly recognised Darlene. ‘Fish have been at him,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Nothing like fresh meat for a frenzy.’

  Rex concentrated on a head wound. ‘The state of the body is consistent with six to twelve hours in the water, which fits the time frame for the explosion reported back at the marina.’

  A jet skier zoomed past about fifty metres from shore. ‘This is a well-used stretch of water.’ I wondered if the body had been dumped from another location. ‘Is it surprising the body wasn’t found earlier?’

  ‘Not really. It would have sunk to start with. Decomposition produces putrefactive gases that make the body float. That, of course, depends on the water and temperature conditions.’

  ‘Identifying the remains could prove difficult,’ I said out loud.

  Rex looked up. ‘Police tell me they believe the victim didn’t have medical or dental records.’

  ‘And the only family member we know was adopted,’ I added.

  Under the circumstances the extensive facial trauma seemed a little too convenient.

  Chapter 91

  FURTHER UP THE bank, Mark was questioning a security guard from the local marina. I moved over to listen and Mark filled me in. ‘Giorgio Kalafedes was on duty last night at Birkenhead Marina and says he saw the victim on one of the secured boats. He identified the man as Moss from a photo. Says he was drunk and stank of alcohol.’ Mark turned to the witness.

  ‘You’re certain they’re the same clothes he was wearing before the explosion?’

  ‘Absolutely sure. He said his wife left him for someone else.’ He looked to me then Mark. ‘If I ever thought he’d take off drunk like that, I’d have grabbed his keys and called you guys.’

  Something struck me. Geoff Andren and Eliza had said that Eric Moss never touched alcohol.

  ‘Did he say if he was planning to head off the next day?’ I asked.

  ‘No. Just wanted to sleep it off. I thought it was his boat because of the photo.’

  ‘What photo?’ I asked.

  ‘The one with the other man holding a fish.’

  ‘Did the man you saw have sunglasses on in the picture?’

  ‘Yeah. He had the same pair on inside the boat. I thought it was weird at night. And the beard was the same. That’s why I thought he was the owner.’ The guard looked over his shoulder at the scene, and the body. ‘Can I go now? I don’t feel so good.’

  ‘Sure, have a seat in one of our cars. Someone will be with you soon,’ Mark said, before gesturing for me to walk with him.

  We stepped away from the action. ‘Early indications would suggest an electrical short triggered the boat explosion.’

  It had to be sabotage, I thought. ‘You think it was a freak accident?’

  ‘If it was, this character Moss, or Gudgast, must be pretty unlucky.’ Mark raised his eyebrows. ‘He resigns, goes away for a few days and happens to pick the only boat with an electrical defect.’

  ‘Are you thinking he rigged it to blow and somehow stuffed up?’

  ‘No, but I am suggesting you may not be the only one looking for him. Someone else got to him first.’

  ‘Until you told us, Eliza had never heard of anyone called Hans Gudgast. Neither had I.’ I didn’t want to let on what Eliza had said about Eric’s height. ‘All we knew was that Eric Moss had no official documentation and wasn’t big on having his photo taken without sunglasses. He kept a very low profile for all his public works.’

  ‘I did some checking too, on the fire at Moss’s friend’s cabin. The local boys tell me magnesium was used to ignite it. Water only made it worse. So whoever lit it knew more than a bit about chemistry.’

  ‘Or specifically fires,’ I suggested.

  Mark nodded, studying my face. ‘And I suppose it was a coincidence that his daughter was assaulted in an attempted robbery and hid out at your place.’

  I didn’t want Mark setting off alarms with government agencies until I knew more.

  ‘Is there anything else I need to know to get to the bottom of this?’ he pressured.

  ‘The less you know for now, the safer a lot of people will be.’

  He clenched his jaw. ‘I can’t help if you keep me in the dark.’

  ‘I guarantee I’ll fill you in as soon as I work out what Moss was up to.’

  ‘You’re on extremely thin ice right now and can’t afford to piss anyone else off. Me included.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I hear some pretty heavy hitters will be relieved Moss is dead. You expose what Moss was up to, you’ll need to watch your back.’

  Chapter 92

  MARCEL PEYRONI CALLED my name. ‘Hey, Gisto. Remember me?’

  I felt the anger rise in me as I saw him behind the police lines. This time I didn’t hold back and stormed over. ‘You crooked scumbag!’

  ‘Unusual metaphor, coming from an ex-lawyer who takes obscene amounts of money to make scandals …’ he made a pfff sound, ‘disappear.’

  It took all my self-restraint not to hit him square in the face.

  Peyroni made a rolling hand gesture at the cameraman who’d been slow to start recording. ‘This is the second time in a week you’ve been involved in a death. The police have suggested you are implicated in Louise Simpson’s death. I’m informed you were working on finding Eric Moss as well. Will you still be paid now he’s dead?’

  I clenched both fists and tensed my shoulders. The camera ensured there was irrefutable evidence if I thumped the pompous little git. The bastard had caused a lot of trouble and compromised at least one police operation. And he’d violated the privacy of my firm and clients. He deserved to be publicly exposed. I held back because footage of his eventual arrest would do far more damage than any punch I could deliver.

  ‘What? No quips, no retorts?’ He shoved the microphone close to my chin. I noticed an investigative reporter from an independent newspaper approaching.

  I spoke loudly enough for the more respected journalist to hear. ‘Who did you illegally bug this time, to get here faster than your rivals?’

  It did more than pique her interest. I smiled as Peyroni refused to comment on the accusation I’d made.

  Mark tapped my shoulder. ‘You may want to intervene,’ he said, pointing to a commotion near the body bag.

  Darlene’s arms were raised as two men in dark suits blocked her from the corpse.

  ‘Who are they?’ I leapt across a pine log and hurried over.

  ‘No idea.’ Mark followed me. ‘But they look like Feds or spooks.’

  Federal police or ADIA agents. They certainly had the arrogance to go with the jobs.

  Darlene was assuring them she was here to help with the forensics investigation but they were physically pushing her from the scene.

  ‘IDs,’ Mark demanded, showing his own.

  The dark suits retreated but said something I couldn’t hear and Mark stood down to make a call. When he hung up, he turned to us.

  ‘They override our jurisdiction. Only their authorised personnel are permitted near the body.’

  ‘I’m not some ghoul off the street,’ Darlene argued. ‘This is my job, and Rex King can vouch for me.’

  ‘I know,’ Mark said, ‘but they have their orders and I have mine. They’ll formally identify the deceased. There’s nothing more you can do here.’

  I wondered how they could confirm whether it was Moss in the body bag without dental records or DNA. We needed to get some of Eric’s DNA to compare to the body’s. In exchange they could answer some of Eliza’s and my questions about her father and his activities.

  ‘Darlene, grab your gear. There’s somewhere we need to be.’

  Chapter 93

  I GOT LUCKY with a parking spot in Hunter Street, close to Martin Place. If Moss used his workplace as a bedsit when he was in Sydney, Darlene should easily find DNA in his office or on toiletries to identify who he truly was, and if the body in the water was in fact him.

  ‘Craig Gisto, private investigator,’ I announced to the man st
anding guard outside the offices. ‘I’m here on behalf of Eliza Moss to collect the personal possessions Eric left behind.’

  ‘I’m not supposed to let anyone in,’ said the tubby man with a face scarred by past acne. ‘Sir Lang has to approve visitors now.’

  Darlene waited beside with her bag as I stepped forward and lowered my voice. ‘Look, I don’t know if you knew Eric Moss well but a body’s just been found in the harbour and the police think it’s him.’

  I let the news sink in. The guard turned an ashen hue. ‘The poor man. And Eliza. He adored her.’

  Darlene lowered her head. ‘You can imagine how devastated she is.’

  ‘They’re having trouble identifying the body because it’s been in an explosion,’ I explained as he slumped back against the wall.

  ‘He asked me about my holidays. Just last Thursday. He was never too busy to chat.’

  We didn’t have much time before Lang Gillies sniffed us out. ‘We just need to get into his office and collect some things for Eliza. Things that he would have wanted her to have.’

  ‘Of course,’ the man said. ‘It’s only right. Go on in.’

  ‘Thanks. We know the way. Your name is …?’

  ‘Barry. Please tell Eliza I’m real sorry. Eric was a good man.’

  ‘I will.’ I shook his hand as Darlene and I quickly slipped past Gillies’s closed office door.

  Inside Moss’s office I had to look twice. The area had been gutted of furniture. The carpet had been ripped up and the walls freshly painted. Darlene entered the bathroom. ‘Smells like it’s been scrubbed with ammonia,’ she said.

  Lang Gillies had made damn sure there were no physical traces of Eric Moss in the building.

  It was as if he never existed.

  Chapter 94

  ‘YOU PEOPLE ARE trespassing!’ Lang Gillies was standing behind us, a mobile in his hand.

  ‘We came on behalf of Eliza.’ I turned to him. ‘To collect her father’s personal possessions.’

  ‘Tell that to the police.’

  ‘Or I could tell it to the media. Marcel Peyroni is particularly interested in this case.’ I’d done my homework on the old man. ‘Craven Media and I have a special relationship. He’d love to know about your penchant for visiting,’ I made quotation marks with my fingers, ‘a certain exclusive men’s club.’ I turned to Darlene. ‘They have casual Fridays. And by casual, I mean butt naked.’

  Darlene feigned shock. ‘And what about this for a quote … “I was horrified to think he could have used the hard-earned donations of struggling families like mine who wanted to help make a difference”?’

  ‘Don’t forget the pensioners,’ I urged.

  Darlene ran with it. ‘My grandmother is going to be devastated. She sacrificed so much to help people in disasters, through Contigo Valley. People who had lost everything.’

  ‘Shut the hell up!’ Gillies’s face was ruddy and veins distended on his forehead and throat. He banged his walking stick against the wall.

  ‘Why don’t we take this to your office?’ I said. When Lang didn’t move, I led the way with Darlene.

  Once inside, Sir Lang slammed the door. He looked on the verge of a stroke but he was obviously the master of temper tantrums.

  I pulled up a chair, sat defiantly and placed both hands behind my head. The action irritated him even more. The power had shifted and he didn’t like it one bit.

  His entire face was engorged with blood. ‘What do you want?’ he spat.

  ‘Simple. Eric Moss’s personal possessions.’

  Darlene offered him a chair as if it was her office.

  He waved her away. ‘The man walked out of here, abandoned everything. I had every right to dispose of them.’

  ‘He was missing,’ Darlene corrected, ‘and those things could have helped find him.’

  ‘There was no proof he was missing apart from the paranoia of his needy, unbalanced daughter.’

  Darlene flashed me a warning look and I consciously relaxed both fists.

  ‘If the press got wind of her erratic behaviour, she’d be humiliated. Just when her father’s been dragged from the harbour.’

  ‘You already heard?’ Darlene sounded shocked.

  ‘It pays me to know.’ He sat now, facing me, walking stick held between his spindly legs. ‘My job is to distance this organisation from that traitor.’

  I wanted to see what else he knew. ‘Your grief is choking us up. Can we count on you for a eulogy?’

  ‘There’ll be no one at the service once word gets out.’

  I sat forward. ‘About?’

  ‘His lies, deceit, schemes to commit fraud.’

  Crimes I suspected Gillies had known about all along. He could even have been behind them.

  ‘You mean the containers scam.’

  The colour in his face faded. He’d underestimated me.

  ‘As chairman of the board, you are as guilty as sin. You’ll be going down too. No more casual Fridays for you, old boy.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong. Eric Moss was a con man. Or should I say Hans Gudgast? Or whatever the hell his name really was. Everything about him was a lie.’

  Word travelled fast in police and business circles. Lang Gillies wasn’t the complete fool I’d taken him for. Then again cockroaches were the ultimate survivors.

  ‘You think the mighty Craig Gisto is the only one who was investigating Eric? The man was convincing. Look at Eliza. She thinks he’s a saint. I can testify we had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of.’

  That was it. Any responsibility Lang Gillies had in the fraud scheme would be buried with Eric Moss. He would be made the scapegoat for the entire organisation’s corruption and ineptitude. Gillies was absolving himself of all responsibility.

  Chapter 95

  JOHNNY ARRIVED AT the Wallaces’ home in Dural. A news team and station van hovered nearby.

  The couple had been interviewed and released without Private being allowed to question them further about the woman posing as Louise Simpson. Johnny hoped the pair might recognise one of the women in the radiology staff photos as the woman they paid the twenty-five-thousand-dollar deposit.

  Understandably, after the media coverage they were loath to leave the house and spoke through an intercom on the gate.

  ‘Go through our lawyer,’ the husband said coldly.

  Johnny tried the soft approach. ‘I’m so sorry about what you’ve been through. I know this is difficult but you are still the best chance of finding Zoe Ruffalo. All I’m asking is that you look at these photos and tell me if the woman you met claiming to be Louise is among them.’ There was no reply, but the crackle on the line told Johnny Mr Wallace was still listening.

  ‘You understand loss. We can only imagine what Zoe’s parents are going through. But you know.’ Johnny placed his forehead on the brick above the intercom and appealed one last time. ‘All any of us want is to bring her home safe.’

  There was silence, then a buzz and the gates separated.

  Johnny made the sign of the cross and thanked God.

  ‘Five minutes. That’s all,’ Wallace said. ‘My wife can’t take any more stress.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Johnny walked briskly up the drive.

  The couple had been embarrassed, harassed and arrested in full public view. Johnny could understand they would be reluctant to talk to anyone without a lawyer present. And, despite a police statement saying the Wallaces had helped in the investigation but were not suspects in the homicide or in the kidnapping of baby Zoe, they were still being hounded by journalists.

  Alexandrus Wallace opened the door in tracksuit pants and a ragged T-shirt. Unkempt hair and a day’s worth of stubble were indicators of a nightmare twenty-four hours.

  ‘Thank you for your time.’ Johnny pulled out the photos of the female staff.

  Mr Wallace stood just inside the door, out of view from the road, keeping his visitor on the step.

  He looked carefully at each image
, shaking his head, then arrived at the final photo. ‘She isn’t here.’

  ‘Are you certain?’ Johnny was sure the woman worked at the radiology centre. He produced the photos of the male employees, including the two doctors he’d spoken to. ‘Do you remember seeing any of these men on the beach when you met with that woman, or any other time?’

  Wallace exhaled but took the next set of pictures. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t recognise anyone.’

  ‘OK. Well, I appreciate your time,’ Johnny said.

  ‘People say time heals. Nothing can heal the pain of losing a child.’ He part-closed the door. ‘For everyone’s sake, we hope you find the baby.’

  Johnny trudged back up the drive, painfully aware that without any other leads Zoe Ruffalo might never be found.

  Chapter 96

  JOHNNY WASN’T ABOUT to give up, however. He headed back to Manly. This time he wanted to know about any practice employees who had left in the last year. Ones who could have printed out X-rays in advance.

  One had married and moved to Glasgow with her new husband. A radiography student, Felicity Wenham, had begun a rotation with them but failed to return after the fourth week. No one had heard from her since. Dr Kwong explained that wasn’t unusual. Sometimes students didn’t fit in, or wanted to work closer to home. According to the practice manager, the student was a fast learner and was eager to know how the business worked. If Felicity had finished her rotation, she might have been given a job after graduation.

  Johnny found her name on the electoral roll and was pleasantly surprised to see she was living in Balgowlah, close by. He drove straight to the address and parked a short distance from a blue weatherboard home set back from the street. A separate garage down the drive looked like it had been converted into a studio or office.

  A woman in her forties answered the door. He asked if it was possible to see Felicity Wenham.