Private Sydney

by James Patterson

  He struggled to breathe.

  I held the hot iron to his face. ‘Where’s the baby?’

  ‘I want a lawyer!’ he yelled, face engorging.

  Mary put more weight on his biceps. ‘What did you do with the baby?’

  He refused to answer. ‘Sigrid is telling the truth,’ I said. ‘She never was pregnant. The baby you took isn’t your grandchild.’

  As realisation hit, the man looked winded. He’d murdered Louise Simpson for nothing.

  ‘My daughter, Majella, has her. Oh God. She thinks that’s her child.’

  Chapter 103

  MARY SECURED THE man with cable ties while I scoured his pockets and extracted a wallet. Evan Piper was his name. The baby was at his daughter’s Mosman home.

  I phoned Mark Talbot. ‘We’ve got Louise Simpson’s murderer, and the woman who took her identity,’ I told him. ‘I’ll explain the specifics later, but we have detained them and have a recorded confession. They’re at 17/22 Rolfe Street, Manly. I’m going for the baby.’ I gave him the Mosman address. He was sending a team here and heading to the daughter’s house.

  I moved over and sat Sigrid Hall up but I refused to release her ties. She was a liar, a con woman and had committed the cruellest act, letting couples think their unborn children had died of an incurable condition. She’d also stolen an innocent woman’s identity, and money. She may not have foreseen the danger she was putting Louise in, but she still had blood on her hands.

  I phoned Johnny and told him to back Mary up. No one was to leave. The police were minutes away.

  Then I sped all the way to Mosman. Majella Piper believed the baby was hers. She wouldn’t just give Zoe up.

  I pulled up outside the house just as Detective Sergeant Kristen Massey, in plain clothes, was climbing out of her unmarked car. She let her hair out of its ponytail, stripped down to a singlet and unselfconsciously slipped off her skirt. She grabbed some khaki shorts from inside the car and stepped into brown Blundstone boots. A sweat-stained cap finished the look.

  ‘We don’t know how suspicious the woman will be.’

  ‘So what’s your plan?’ I deferred to her.

  ‘She may open the door to me like this. You’re my husband in case you’re wondering.’

  ‘Good to know.’

  Kristen knocked and a young woman answered.

  I took the detective’s hand.

  ‘Hi there. We live down the street and have been admiring your roses. Can we ask what you feed them with? Ours keep dying.’

  The sound of a baby crying came from inside. The woman looked around, then back again. ‘I’d love to help you but I’m sorry, I have to go.’

  ‘Wow,’ Kristen said. ‘How old’s your little one?’

  ‘Eight weeks.’ The woman didn’t seem at all suspicious. If anything, she was bursting with pride.

  ‘That is so exciting. We’re expecting ourselves. Ten weeks.’

  I touched her belly as if confirming the fact.

  Majella seemed to hover for a second, then said with a grin, ‘She’s due for a feed. Wait there.’

  Kristen moved her leg forward even though the door was ajar. Majella was soon back, with the baby clasped tightly at her chest.

  She exposed its face.

  ‘She is so tiny,’ I said. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Elspeth. It was my grandmother’s name.’

  ‘You are a cutie,’ Kristen cooed. ‘Can I hold her?’ She reached over and took Zoe before Majella had the chance to object. I admired the baby, placing myself between the two women.

  Within seconds, two squad cars pulled up and six officers ran towards the house, weapons drawn.

  It all happened so fast Majella Piper didn’t appear to react. Until Kristen turned back and said to her gently, ‘My name’s Detective Massey,’ and flashed her police badge. ‘I’m sorry, but this child is not yours.’

  Chapter 104

  ‘LEAVE MY BABY alone!’ Majella thrashed to break free from my grasp.

  The child began to cry.

  ‘These people are stealing my daughter!’ Majella Piper was panic-stricken.

  I had the woman in a vice-like grip and locked eyes with her. ‘Listen. That baby isn’t yours. The police are here because your father took someone else’s child.’

  The fight went out of her at the mention of her father.

  ‘You’re wrong. She’s mine. The surrogate is the one who should be arrested. She was going to sell Elspeth.’

  Mark was now at my side. ‘I think we’d better go inside,’ he said softly, ‘where we can talk. Paramedics are checking the baby. She’s safe and they’re not going anywhere unless I say.’

  His soothing, rational tone seemed to calm her down, at least enough to walk into the lounge room and sit.

  Only her hands, clasped tightly together, betrayed the emotions she was battling to keep in check. She focused her attention on the portacot that had been set up next to a rocking chair.

  Mark broached, ‘A simple DNA test will clear all this up. For now, your father’s talking to us about Louise Simpson.’

  ‘Have you arrested her? All this time we thought she’d been stillborn.’ Her face became animated. ‘I couldn’t believe my baby was alive.’

  Mark cleared his throat. ‘Have you seen the news in the last two days?’

  ‘No. Elspeth and I have been getting to know each other.’ She began to fold a crocheted rug from the lounge. ‘Did you know she loves classical music?’

  Mark rubbed his hands on his trouser legs.

  Majella Piper was in denial. She needed to hear the full truth.

  It was up to me. ‘I just left your father with the surrogate you met with. Her real name is Sigrid Hall. She stole Louise Simpson’s identity, feigned being a surrogate and took money from couples like you and your husband. She faked a pregnancy then pretended she’d miscarried.’

  ‘No.’ Majella was adamant. ‘The pregnancy was real. I saw our baby’s heart beating on the video of the scan.’

  ‘That was part of her scam. She used the scan of a child who died two years ago, with the names and dates changed to look like she was a surrogate mother.’

  Majella’s eyes narrowed as the truth began to sink in.

  ‘But Dad said she admitted it was my baby.’

  I pieced the story together for her, and the police. ‘He went to the house of the real Louise Simpson, whose identity had been stolen. She was innocent and didn’t know anything about the fake surrogate. She was babysitting an eight-week-old girl, Zoe Ruffalo, for a friend.’

  Majella’s eyes flashed from Mark to me, confused.

  ‘Your father admitted to murdering the real Louise Simpson and taking Zoe Ruffalo. If it’s any consolation, he really believed she was yours.’

  ‘Murdered …? No. That can’t be,’ Majella pleaded, as the truth slowly sank in.

  This poor woman had already grieved for a child that never existed. Now she’d lost a child who was never hers.

  Mark stood. ‘You’ll need to come with us to the station for a formal statement,’ he said, with a hint of regret.

  Kristen Massey came in and took Majella Piper formally into custody. It was up to the Director of Public Prosecutions as to whether or not she’d be charged with conspiracy after the homicide.

  ‘Don’t answer any more questions,’ I advised, ‘without a lawyer present.’

  I handed Mark my phone with the recorded confessions. There was nothing more I could do here.

  ‘I’ll make my statement later.’

  Mark nodded. ‘Give you the heads-up. There’ll be a press conference shortly on the Moss case.’

  It was his way of thanking me for today. And letting me know Eliza would need all the support I could offer.

  Chapter 105

  I DROVE BACK to the office. Exhaustion was hitting me hard. Any relief at finding baby Zoe safe and well was countered by the pain and grief Eliza was going through.

  We still had no DNA to compa
re with the body from the water, even if we could extract a tissue specimen. Darlene was denied access to the autopsy even as an observer.

  Mark Talbot texted my usual phone number.

  Televised press conference 4 pm. Family NOT briefed.

  That was barely enough time for the autopsy to be performed. Toxicology results and microscopic examination of the body were impossible to complete by then. This reeked of a cover-up. Relatives should be told before information was made public. Eric Moss’s only family member was being frozen out. The instructions had to be coming from the highest level. But from whom?

  I decided to leave Eliza in my office. She had only just fallen asleep. According to Darlene, she hadn’t received any calls from the police.

  The rest of us gathered around the TV in the conference room. The police commissioner was confirming the death of Eric Moss in a boat explosion.

  ‘We are satisfied there were no suspicious circumstances surrounding Mr Moss’s death. The coroner has released Mr Moss’s body for burial. There will not, at this point, be an inquest. I’d like to take this opportunity to offer my condolences to his family and friends.’ He looked up from the podium. ‘Any questions?’

  ‘Can you confirm an investigation is underway into fraud at Contigo Valley?’ a reporter asked.

  He cleared his throat. ‘An investigation was conducted into alleged fraud at Contigo Valley. I believe Mr Moss was aware he would face charges. As a result of that investigation I can confirm the name Eric Moss was in fact an alias for a Hans Gudgast, a Swiss national who fled Switzerland before being tried on embezzlement charges. At this stage I would like to stress that Contigo Valley is in no way implicated in the fraud perpetrated by the man we now know to be the fugitive, Hans Gudgast.’

  That was news to my team and me. The investigation into Contigo’s finances was still pending. This had to be a stitch-up, with Eric Moss being tainted with guilt when he could no longer defend himself.

  ‘Now we know why Eliza wasn’t briefed,’ Mary said coldly. ‘She was blindsided so she couldn’t refute any of it.’

  ‘Did Moss commit suicide?’ a TV broadcaster queried.

  The commissioner sighed, and became more sombre. ‘We never know what was going on in someone’s mind in the moments before death. Mr Moss resigned from the organisation on Friday afternoon and was reported missing by a family member. It appears Mr Moss was intoxicated when he started the boat and may or may not have intentionally set the fire that caused the explosion. Only he and God know what he was thinking that fateful night when the police were closing in on him.’ He went on to add further insult. ‘The coroner has released Mr Moss’s body for burial. As I said, there will not, at this point, be an inquest.’ He abruptly ended the press conference.

  I sat in complete disbelief. The commissioner had implied that the investigations into fraud and Moss’s death were both closed, exonerating Contigo Valley and Lang Gillies from any wrongdoing.

  I stood up, replaying in my mind what we had just witnessed.

  ‘Eliza’s going to be devastated when she finds out,’ Darlene said quietly.

  I turned to see Eliza in the doorway.

  Chapter 106

  I DROVE ELIZA back to my place. She didn’t speak at all on the way and her withdrawn state concerned me. Once back home, I tried to get her to open up. Even a little.

  She used her crutches to step out on to the balcony. Hair gusted across her face as she stared at the waves pounding on the sand. I placed two hot mugs of tea on the table.

  ‘If you like, I can organise a funeral home. The coroner’s releasing –’

  ‘Dad didn’t drink. Why was he on that boat?’ She seemed bewildered. ‘And how could he be Hans Gudgast? I thought they were different heights.’

  I suspected we’d never get to the truth behind who Eric Moss really was but he’d officially been declared dead. Everything had happened so fast, even for a high-level cover-up. Perhaps Moss did go to the boat that night to get drunk. Whether it was suicide or an accident, the result was the same.

  ‘Maybe he was so tired from running and pretending to be someone he wasn’t.’

  ‘This can’t be happening.’ Eliza covered her mouth with her hands. ‘He can’t be gone.’

  With that, her emotions erupted and she buried her face in my chest. I held her, and felt every ounce of her pain.

  The doorbell rang and I ignored it. It rang again. Next thing, Mark Talbot was calling out from below.

  I waved for him to come up and eased away from Eliza to answer the door.

  ‘This is an official visit, I’m afraid.’ He fidgeted on the spot. ‘You saw the press conference?’

  ‘Someone could have warned Eliza.’

  Mark paused. ‘I had no say in that. I need to speak to her if she’s here.’ He lowered his voice. ‘How’s she doing?’

  ‘How do you think?’

  Mark headed to the balcony. Eliza looked up, soulfully, as if hoping he had good news.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ my cousin began. ‘But there are some questions about the trust fund your father established on your behalf.’

  ‘Seriously, Mark, this can wait. Eliza didn’t even know about the trust.’

  Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

  ‘Well, she needs to know the account has been frozen, as it may contain the profits from crime,’ he said to me. ‘I’m sorry, but Lang Gillies and some pretty high-flyers are rapidly trying to distance themselves from anything your father was involved in.’

  ‘You mean his alleged criminal activity.’ Eliza was curt.

  Mark looked out towards the sea. ‘I met your father and believe he was a good man. If there’s anything I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to let me know.’ He placed his card under the mug closest to Eliza.

  Outside, I challenged him. ‘What the hell was all that about? What were you fishing for?’

  ‘Craig, you need to bury the guy and move on. It’s over.’

  All my frustrations came to the boil and I shoved him against the wall.

  ‘What are you going to do now? Burn me with a curling wand?’ he snapped.

  ‘Cut the crap, Mark. This is a cover-up and you’re part of it.’

  He raised both hands in surrender. ‘I’m telling you this as a favour. To you and Eliza. You’re in way over your head. This is bigger than any of us and some serious players are pulling the strings.’

  I stood back. ‘Who exactly?’

  ‘All investigations into Moss’s activities are being dropped. He made idiots out of people who can’t afford to be embarrassed. Not when national security is such a vote-winner.’

  ‘Doesn’t anyone want to know how a guy with zero credentials or documentation got access to restricted military bases?’

  Mark pushed back. ‘Think with your head, not your dick for a change. A contact in the Prime Minister’s office told me the US Secretary of State had Moss on speed dial. Do you hear what I’m saying? For your sake and Eliza’s you need to drop it. You had a win today finding Zoe Ruffalo. You’ll never get lucky with this. Trust me. Bury the guy and let it go.’

  Chapter 107

  ELIZA WAS FINALLY accepting the fact her father was no longer with her. She said he would want to be cremated and his ashes released over Contigo’s forest valley.

  Thankfully, the grisly task of choosing a coffin was one she didn’t have to perform. She had just taken a call from Lang Gillies. He’d already made the arrangements, to ‘save her the pain at such a time’.

  The service would take place the next morning at the Northern Suburbs Memorial Gardens on Delhi Road, North Ryde. Ten am. It smacked of a rush job. Moss being dead clearly wasn’t good enough for some. They wanted him cremated as soon as physically possible.

  I thought about what Mark had said. Was he trying to warn me, or protect me? Or both? He didn’t agree with what was happening but he had become more of a pragmatist lately. Every fibre in me sensed a cover-up by authorities and it
had to do with his supposedly secret contracts.

  I stood in the lounge, watching Eliza for a moment. She had already been through so much, and I didn’t want anything to compromise her safety.

  Time was running out to discover who, if anyone, had murdered her father. There were too many unanswered questions. Ambassador Roden’s determination to find Moss, the US Secretary of State’s close ties with Moss, who was really behind any fraud at Contigo and what the secret contracts involved.

  First, I wanted to call Rex King and ask about the blood alcohol level in his system. It was a quick blood test and would confirm whether or not Moss had been drinking or was just acting drunk for the security guard.

  Rex didn’t answer his phone. I left a message.

  The best way to delay the service was to call the coroner and request a second, independent autopsy. As a family member, Eliza had that right. That way we could access any report on the cause of the boat explosion. Any physical evidence and test results would have to be kept until then. Eliza could make a public statement saying that if there was a fault with the boat the manufacturer needed to be aware and safety measures put in place to prevent another death. It sounded reasonable and focused on the mechanics of the boat, not the politics of the death.

  I talked to her about making the calls. She agreed. It was our only chance to buy time and maybe get some answers.

  Chapter 108

  I COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time I’d slept in a bed. I dozed for short periods until morning, unable to shake the feeling Lang Gillies wasn’t doing Eliza any favours by rushing to put Moss to rest. Eliza had remained holed up in the spare bedroom since sending emails to the coroner’s office and the department of forensic science at the morgue. She was now leaving voicemail messages, stressing the urgency.

  Time was running out for a response.

  Darlene had kindly collected clothes from Eliza’s home for the funeral. Not knowing what she’d need, she brought multiple changes of outfit, some dark, with bright accessories.