by Fiona Tarr
Her hair was grey, tied atop her head with an historically styled, loose bun. Her once blue eyes were steely grey, but they sparkled with an energy that belied her age. She rose from her desk at the front of the class as Jenny and Jack entered. ‘My goodness, Jennifer Williams. What in the world are you doing here?’
Jack grinned as Jenny embraced the old woman. ‘Mrs Pettifore. You haven’t changed a bit.’
The elderly woman waved her hand dismissively. ‘Nonsense. I’m at least another decade older.’ Then she grinned cheekily, knowing she’d underestimated considerably.
‘We need to speak with Jeremy.’ Jenny nodded to the redheaded, freckle-faced boy who was standing behind the front Science desk, a Bunsen burner with a test-tube hovering above it suddenly forgotten. He put the tube in the rack and slid lower, trying unsuccessfully to make himself invisible by hiding behind a petite blonde with tightly curled hair.
‘Is he in trouble?’ the teacher whispered. ‘He’s a good boy.’
‘We don’t know yet Mrs Pettifore. We need to ask him a few questions in relation to Gemma’s disappearance.’
A man cleared his throat at the door and both detectives swung around. A fine-boned man with dark eyes and a hawked nose stood in the open doorway. ‘I’m the Chaplain.’
Jenny watched the man a moment, a frown forming on her forehead. Jack watched her as she crossed her arms, her back straightened and she placed her legs slightly apart. The stance was confrontational, something more often seen in alpha males, but Jack noticed Jenny adopted it when she was annoyed.
‘Thanks for joining us Chaplain, we need to ask Jeremy a few questions. Do you have a spot that would suit?’ Jack asked as he turned to the boy, who was now backing away from his desk, the look of a doe in headlights suddenly crossing his features.
‘Jeremy, go with the detectives.’ Mrs Pettifore spoke, Jack looked at her, Jenny was still staring at the Chaplain, her body language hadn’t changed.
‘Yes of course. Follow me.’ The Chaplain walked away without further instruction, Jenny watched him. Jack waved his arm at Jeremy, who finally managed to move forward instead of back.
‘I haven’t done anything,’ he stuttered as Jack took his arm gently. The Chaplain appeared in the doorway again, having doubled-back it seemed.
‘You don’t need to say anything Jeremy. Not if you don’t want to.’
Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but the Chaplain had turned and was walking down the hallway once more. She nearly swore, but Jack tapped her on the shoulder on the way past, Jeremy in tow and she bit her lip, literally.
‘Thanks for your help Mrs Pettifore. We’ll have him back as soon as we can.’ Jenny smiled as the teacher yelled.
‘Get back to work. No time for gawking class.’
Jenny closed the lab door quietly and followed Jack down the hallway. They moved out of the double metal doors, into the sunlight. The morning clouds had cleared, but the southerly wind blew, making the temperature cold, even for this time of year.
The Chaplain led them to the chapel, opening the ancient timber doors and beckoning them inside. Jack thought the setting unusual, but said nothing.
Jeremy stiffened, but Jack nudged his elbow and the boy complied. He watched Jenny enter and stop, allowing her eyes to adjust. The chapel had dark wood ceilings and high, stained-glass windows. The vestibule also held the bell, which was seldom rung, but no windows, making it dark and gloomy.
The altar stood at the far end with candelabras lit, framing the statue of the Virgin Mary, holding the baby Jesus.
‘Please, take a seat.’ The Chaplain was already at the front of the pews. He pointed to the seating either side of the central aisle. Jack wondered again why on earth they were meeting in the chapel.
‘Are there no meeting rooms in the admin building?’
‘The chapel is as good a place as any.’
Jack shrugged. The man was plain weird but some of the Catholic clergy he’d met in the past had an aloof manner, this one was no different.
‘Jeremy, sorry to pull you out of class but we have a few questions about Gemma.’ The boy looked from Jack, who stood before him, to Jenny who sat across the aisle from him, then to the Chaplain who stood on the second step of the altar.
‘The Chaplain said I didn’t need to speak with you. Is that right?’
‘He did. Strange that was, don’t you think? We are trying to find one of your class mates, who is missing. Don’t you want to help find her?’
‘I, yes.’ He looked at the Chaplain. Jack watched the exchange.
‘Look, why don’t we call your mum or dad down and have them sit with you while we speak? That way you can make sure they are okay with what you have to share. You can even speak with them first if you like!’ Jack wanted to get this kid away from the Chaplain. He was wound up tighter than a piece of macramé.
The boy nodded. ‘Let’s go to the office while we call them.’
‘I think I should wait with him until they arrive.’ The Chaplain moved down the stairs.
‘I don’t think that is necessary.’ Jenny put her hand on the man’s arm, he shrugged it away.
‘I insist.’
‘You can see us to the office, then we’ll be under the supervision of the receptionist. You can leave us then.’ Jack’s tone said it wasn’t a suggestion and the Chaplain took a breath before continuing.
‘I have other work to do anyway. Fine.’ He moved out of the church and Jack watched Jeremy watch the Chaplain leave. He visibly relaxed. What were they missing? Paedophilia? Stereotypical, but the kid was fully wound.
‘He creeps me out.’ Jenny offered quietly as they left the church. Jack nodded his agreement.
24
Jack stood with a beer in hand, his backside facing the gas heater in Liz’s lounge room. ‘We’ve got nothing on him but the Chaplain is creepy.’
‘So what did the boy say, about the photos?’ Liz cut up cheese and opened a packet of rice crackers.
‘He said someone asked him to get the photos. He knew how to highjack the router, so he agreed.’
‘He obviously got his jollies looking at the photos too.’
‘He’s just a kid.’
‘Just a little pervert kid,’ Liz grumbled. ‘Did he say who he gave the photos to?’
‘His parents called the lawyer, but not before it became obvious he was scared shitless.’
‘So whoever got him to grab the photos, he knows?’
‘I’d expect so, or at least he’s afraid of them.’
‘Anything come out of the Victorian Police files?’
‘The M.O. is the same for both murdered girls. Raped, tortured and then murdered.’
Liz looked up from the counter and frowned before opening the wine fridge and getting a bottle out.
‘Why murder two and not the other missing girls? Are they sure the cases are all linked?’ Liz stopped pouring the wine at the line, then shook her head and filled it to within an inch of the top.
‘I wondered that too, until I dug a little deeper into the autopsy reports. Both girls had been pregnant.’
‘Shit. Did they get DNA off the foetus?’
‘No, they’d been aborted. The pathologist could tell, something to do with elevated hormones in the blood and scarring on the womb.’
‘Have they rung illegal abortion clinics?’
‘I haven’t had a chance to check.’
‘I know one here. I might make a few enquiries tomorrow.’
‘The girls from here probably haven’t been missing long enough.’ Jack took another swig of beer and rolled the bottle in between his hands.
‘Are there any other missing girls?’
‘Not that we know of. We have a flag out for any missing girls between fifteen and seventeen. That seems to be the window.’ Liz put the wine away in the fridge and lifted the cheese platter.
‘What else did the report say?’
‘I phoned the lead detective, Rogers, today. He had no i
dea Jones was here, right where two more girls have gone missing. We have his attention now and we are both digging deeper. We might even get a search warrant to check out that man-cave he has outside his place.’
‘And you think he’s good for it?’ Jack shrugged as Liz joined him in the lounge, taking a seat on the coffee table, her legs dangling in front of the fire. She watched him rotate like a chicken on a rotisserie.
The beer in his hand was cupped in a stubbie holder, to keep his hands warm, not the beer cold, the weather had been freezing all day.
‘Max has tailed him all week. Other than that man-cave, he’s got nothing to hide. His music lessons are held after school, at the school. He works late marking, visits the chapel, then goes home.’
‘He visits the chapel?’
‘Yep, before he goes home.’ Liz took a sip of her wine.
‘The Chaplain scared the kid, I was thinking he was a deviate, but what if the Chaplain and Jones are in it together?’
‘And they just happened to hook up after Jones came here?’ Jack reached over Liz for a piece of cheese, his face hovered near hers, their eyes met and the detective pulled away, popping the cheese into his mouth.
He shrugged. ‘Sounds a bit far-fetched I guess.’
‘Look, Max can stay on Jones, at least until you can get something for a warrant. I’ll see if I can get a little closer to the Chaplain. If he likes women, I’ll know it, but my last interaction with him, made me think he was less than interested.’
‘Keep your distance.’
‘That might make testing his interest hard, but I’ll be careful Jack.’ He rolled his eyes and she smiled. ‘I need to visit the Principal again in any case.’
Jack watched Liz closely. Was she dating him? The question was on his lips, when he realised it was none of his business.
‘It’s just casual Jack. He’s an interesting person.’
‘The Principal? How interesting can he be?’
Liz laughed louder than she intended to, then put her hand on her mouth. ‘You’d be surprised,’ is all she offered. ‘Hungry?’
‘I’ll head home.’ Jack skulled the rest of his beer, took his stubbie holder and placed it in the top drawer of Liz’s kitchen counter and put his empty in the recycling bin under the sink.
‘You’ll make the perfect house husband one day.’ Liz joked but Jack didn’t smile. ‘You’re just so tidy,’ she added lamely.
Jack stood at the end of the counter, Liz stood up, but remained in the lounge room, watching him carefully. She could see he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He shrugged. ‘It’s just habit.’ He walked to the door and opened it, holding it ajar as he moved through.
‘Tell Max what you’re up to, or me. Don’t do anything stupid.’ He closed the door behind him, leaving Liz with her mouth hanging open, the words hovering on her lips.
Instead of getting annoyed, she lifted her glass of wine and walked to the counter. She pulled out her laptop and began drafting her next project. She typed the heading Defensive Behaviour for Women and stopped. Thoughts of her own teenage years popped into her head. Unwelcomed images flickered like movie clips in her mind. She wished someone had told her more when she was younger. She wished now, more than ever she’d known the signs, been able to do something. But would her education have stopped him? She should have left the first time. She should have gone to the Police, but who would have believed her? She had no evidence back then.
If she’d never run away. If she’d had him arrested and gone into foster care, would her life have been different? Would she have never become a prostitute? Would she have gotten a regular job and if she had, would she have been happy with it?
She couldn’t change the past, but she could learn from it. She could teach others what she knew. She typed the next sentence, then the next and before she knew it, her wine was warm and it was after ten.
****
Jack opened the door to his apartment. Without switching the light on, he stopped to watch the ocean through his sliding door before taking a few steps to his fridge. Opening it, he pulled out a beer along with the leftovers of last night’s curry. He flicked the air vent open and popped it in the microwave, setting it to reheat for three minutes.
What was he missing? Something was right there, hovering at the edge of his consciousness. Two girls were missing and he was no closer to finding them. The photos were a dead-end. They were sent to a kid, who gave them to someone else, but was under no obligation to say who.
They had nothing on him. No incentive to force him to comply. He is under-age and the girls were willing to share the photos. He wasn’t grooming them and unless they could prove the recipient was an adult, they couldn’t accuse anyone of grooming.
Then he remembered Scott had said that there was another photo. They needed to know who that girl was. The microwave dinged and Jack opened it on autopilot. He pulled a fork from his top drawer, opened the lid and stirred the curry, the smell drifting into his nostrils.
He put a heaped forkful in his mouth and sucked air over the top of it to cool it. Tomorrow he’d push the kid and his lawyer. He pulled his notepad out of his pocket and jotted down the details. If the kid wouldn’t give the girls’ details up, they’d throw obstruction charges at him. Then he’d have no choice.
Jack sipped his beer between mouthfuls of curry and wished for the first time in a long time, that he wasn’t alone in his apartment. He could have eaten with Liz but his pride stopped him. She was a wild one. He couldn’t see himself taking their relationship any further, as much as he wanted to. She would never give up her work. It was a part of her now. And he was never going to be able to share her, even if she’d have him.
25
Liz opened the door. Max and Jack both looked amazing in the wool-blend Versace suits she’d purchased. They fitted like a glove and Liz congratulated herself on the size selection. Max looked slimmer in his charcoal suit, the pale lilac shirt with no tie brought an informal, relaxed feel to the look.
Jack’s suit was dark navy, with a silver shirt and satin electric blue tie. His eyes popped like Ceylon sapphires and the smell of Paco Rabanne aftershave that drifted to Liz as she closed the door sparked a feeling she was forced to quell.
Liz failed to notice the appreciation was mutual. Both Max and Jack had recovered composure quickly after Liz showed them in. She wore a short, low cut, long-sleeved, tight-fitting dress made from merino wool. The olive-green colour was complimented by a gold chain belt that hung low on her hips.
‘Detective Williams. You good to go?’ As if on cue Jenny walked out of the spare bedroom. Whatever composure the men had rallied died a slow death. The detective wore heels high enough to tower over both men. Her hair was styled, long and loose over her shoulders. She wore a tightly fitted jumpsuit, off the shoulder on one side, full arm on the other. The scarlet red colour made a statement.
‘God damn.’ Max didn’t hold back. Jenny smiled appreciatively.
‘Alright, this is how it will work.’ Liz pulled the group together with her voice. They huddled around her kitchen counter like a basketball team, ready for the final minutes of play.
‘Jenny, you bring Max in at eight fifteen. I’ll be in the foyer, ready to take him to his seat. Then, five minutes later, you bring Jack in. You can’t be even half a minute late. This process proceeds like clock-work.’
Jenny scrunched her hair and licked her lips. Liz smiled to reassure her. ‘You look fabulous.’
‘I’m just not used to all this.’ The detective indicated her makeup with the wave of a hand.
‘You’ll forget it’s there after a while.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ll have panda eyes when I rub them without thinking about it.’ Liz chuckled.
‘Been there, done that. Don’t worry. You’ll only be seen by security and us and the limo driver, who is a friend of mine. This whole process keeps every visitor anonymous. They come by chauffeur driven cars, with their host or hostess organi
sing a completely discreet event.’
‘How many of these... functions have you been to?’ Jack asked as they moved into the hallway heading to the waiting car.
‘Too many.’ Liz pulled the door closed as the elevator arrived.
‘Can I keep the suit?’ Max brushed his lapels as he looked at himself on the stainless-steel doors.
‘Yes. Of course.’ She watched Jack frown and knew immediately what he was thinking.
‘It’s not a bribe detective. It’s a gift, between friends.’ He nodded.
‘My mum will think I’ve won lotto.’
They all laughed as the elevator doors opened to the foyer. Liz checked her phone and then pointed to the street, leading the entourage to the black limousine outside.
‘You know the address Matt. You know the drill.’ The limo driver nodded as his passengers loaded up in the back of the vehicle. He then ran around the front of the car and jumped in the driver’s side, pulling away from the curb without further instruction.
‘Holy shit. The bar is stocked.’ Max opened the pull-down door. The mirrored cabinet was full of spirits and glasses. Next to the bar was a small fridge. He opened it to reveal two bottles of champagne.
‘That’s for later, if we succeed in our objective.’ Liz pushed the fridge shut with her tan coloured stiletto. Max pouted like a child but sat back in his seat as they took the corner onto King William Road.
‘Where are we going?’ Jack shuffled over to avoid Max’s elbows as he spread out, making himself comfortable.
Liz tapped her nose. ‘You know I can’t tell you that.’
Jack peered out the windows which were deeply tinted and tried to make out their route. He couldn’t see anything once they left South Terrace, the blackness outside made spotting landmarks impossible. He cursed softly, slipping back in his seat but said nothing.
‘She can’t blow this operation mate. Not if we want to keep using her connections in the future.’ Max stated the obvious but Liz could see it wasn’t making Jack feel any less frustrated.
They drove around for an excessively long time. Jack frowned at Liz who shrugged. ‘This is a well-oiled machine Jack. The operators have been going a long time and it is usually a pretty reputable operation.’
