Tell the Truth (15 page)

‘Here with Lucy.'

‘Was Liam home?' Murray asked.

‘No. He plays indoor cricket and soccer. He had a couple of games in a row, then stayed to umpire.'

‘Was anyone else here?' Ella asked.

‘Nope. Just Lucy and me. Why?'

‘Just checking.' Ella took the photo back. ‘Thanks for your help.'

Abby saw them out, the baby dozing in her arms.

‘That all sounded reasonable enough,' Murray said as they
walked down the drive to their car
.

Ella looked back at the house. ‘The Paris link is weird though.'

‘Life is stranger than fiction,' Murray said, taking out his phone to call Dennis. He put him on loudspeaker and gave him a quick summary while Ella mused on the coincidence.

‘I have news,' Dennis said when Murray had finished. ‘The lab worked out two things. Firstly, the DNA matches – it's definitely her blood in the car.'

Ella and Murray didn't speak for a moment, then Ella said, ‘What else?'

‘They worked out what was written in the notebook you found.'

‘And?'

‘You'd better come see for yourselves.'

*

In the office, Dennis held out the fax from the lab.

‘
I'm so scared. Will he go to jail for this? How much time do you do for fraud?
' Ella read out, then looked up. ‘It's her handwriting?'

‘The lab says it matches the samples from the calendar you sent in,' Dennis said.

‘Can we be sure she's referring to James?' Murray asked.

‘Who else would she refer to as “he”?' Ella said.

‘Whoever she wrote about on the previous pages,' Murray replied. ‘The pages we don't have.'

‘But would she be scared about a friend or colleague facing jail?'

‘Wouldn't you?' Murray said.

‘In case it is him,' Dennis said, ‘we need to know more about James's business. I've got Elizabeth Libke coming in from Computer Crime to help. When she gets here, which should be any minute, give her the run-down.'

Ella and Murray went up the corridor to their desks.

‘Let's assume it's James,' Ella said. ‘He's doing something that could land him in jail. She's found out about it. What does he do?'

‘Seems too obvious,' Murray said.

‘Most crime is. Love, hate, money, revenge. He could be angry at her. He could be worried she's going to reveal something, either deliberately or accidentally, and he'll lose his money and end up in the slammer.'

‘But she hadn't said anything so far, so why would she now? Why hurt or kill her now?'

‘That anonymous complaint – what if that made her realise that something was going on? What if she asked him about it, or found out it was true, and now he's done something to her to shut her up? To protect whatever fraud thing he's running?'

‘Libke checked him out though,' Murray said.

‘But how well?'

‘Well enough,' a voice said behind them.

Ella glanced around to see Elizabeth Libke pulling up a chair. ‘I meant that he might be hiding stuff somewhere else,' she said. ‘On another computer or something. You said yourself you just had a chat and checked a couple of things.' Her cheeks were warm.

Libke opened a manila folder on her knee. ‘I'm guessing you want the layperson's version?' Her voice was cool.

Ella listened as she ran through the steps of what she'd checked, then said, ‘Dennis told you about the imprint in the notebook?'

Libke nodded.

‘Are there other ways to commit fraud than the ways you looked at?'

‘Of course,' Libke said. ‘But the note didn't say specifically it was about computers.'

‘No, but if it's James she's referring to, that's got to be pretty much a given, don't you think?'

‘I was wondering,' Murray said, ‘if we shouldn't map out our next steps? We could take a couple of approaches, one being that it's James, the other that it's someone else, and start from there.'

Ella sat back in her chair.

Murray said, ‘Elizabeth, say James is hiding stuff, is there a way you can go deeper and find out?'

She nodded. ‘It'll take time, but sure.'

‘Goodo. And Ella and I will do the less technical stuff. Talk to James again, interview the shop staff –'

Ella's phone buzzed with a text. She looked at the screen. ‘It's from Stacey's phone.' She opened the message. ‘
Time is running out. James knows why. He must tell the truth
,' she read.

Murray hurried off to alert Dennis.

Libke said, ‘Has that happened before?'

Ella shook her head as she typed her reply.
This is Detective Marconi. Who are you?

Dennis and Murray came in as the answer arrived, Dennis with his phone to his ear.

Ella read out the reply. ‘
James knows who we are. When he admits what he's done, he'll see his wife again.
'

Tell me what he's done and I can help
,
she sent back.

‘Phone's in Westmead,' Dennis said.

They waited in a tense group, but there was no answer. Ella, her hands trembling a little, pressed to call the number, but it went straight to voicemail.

‘Switched off,' Dennis said, and ended his own call.

FOURTEEN

P
aris sat on her bed, flipping through her textbooks and remembering the day she'd got them, how exciting and full of potential they – and she – had been. Stacey had picked them up for her from the paramedic shop at Rozelle HQ and brought them over, walking into the house with the pile up on one hand like she was a fancy waiter, a bottle of champagne behind her back and a grin from ear to ear.

They'd clinked glasses at the kitchen bench, just the two of them, the new-paper-and-ink smell filling the room, and Stacey had talked about the camaraderie of the job, the friends you made, the satisfaction you got, as well as the abuse you copped at random times for random things.

‘Seriously,' she'd said, ‘the other day I had the nicest-looking old lady try to punch me and then call me a –'

‘Thank you,' Marie had interrupted, coming into the room. ‘There's no need for that kind of language.'

‘You don't know what I was going to say,' Stacey had said.

‘And if she called you anything other than a competent professional I don't need to know.' Marie had poured herself a glass of champagne. ‘Just because you work in a job where that sort of thing happens doesn't mean you need to bring it in here.'

‘I've heard you swear like a sailor,' Stacey said.

Marie fixed her with a glare. ‘I'm trying to raise my daughter to be a polite and well-mannered young lady.'

‘She is,' Stacey said.

‘And while she's under my roof she'll behave in the way I want,' Marie said, as if Stacey hadn't spoken, then she'd marched out of the room.

Paris and Stacey had kept talking, trying to get the mood back, but it was wrecked. Paris had felt resentment then, and sitting on her bed now she felt it steam up again. That had been her champagne, her moment. Why couldn't her mother support her? Or if she couldn't manage that, for whatever-the-hell reason, just leave her be?

There was a knock at the front door.

‘Can you get that?' her mother called.

Paris let the book fall shut and went to open the door. Rowan Wylie stood there, the ambulance on the street behind him.

He smiled at her. ‘Hi.'

She put her hands in her pockets. ‘Hello.'

‘Can I come in for a minute?'

She shrugged and stepped back. He walked in past her, the portable radio crackling on his hip, and she pushed the door shut with her foot. They stood there in the hallway looking at each other. She wasn't going to invite him further in, she wasn't going to ask if he wanted to sit down. He could say whatever he'd come here to say – sorry, if he had any conscience at all – then he could get the hell out.

‘Well,' he began, then Marie appeared.

‘Rowan! Come in! Sit down! Paris, don't just stand there like a fool, show him into the lounge room. Can I get you a coffee? It's so nice to see you again. How have you been?'

Paris wanted to crawl back to her room. He'd better not go into the details of today, she thought; he'd better not let on how badly she'd been doing. She followed them into the lounge and watched Rowan stand there awkwardly while her mother flitted around him.

‘I'm all right,' he said. ‘Thank you anyway.'

Marie squeezed his arm. ‘Then have a seat. How are you? How is work? Poor Paris had to come home early. Wasn't feeling well, apparently.'

‘That's why I'm here, to see how she is.'

Paris tried to shake her head at him unobtrusively, to tell him not to say another word, but he was looking at her mother.

‘Has there been any news about Stacey?' he asked.

‘No, nothing,' Marie said. ‘I don't know what the police are doing. How could someone disappear and nobody saw anything? It's hard to believe.'

‘Have you spoken to James?'

‘Briefly. He's very upset and frustrated, as you can imagine.'

Rowan nodded, then glanced at Paris. She looked at her feet.
Here it comes
.

He said, ‘I wanted to let you know that because of the situation with Stacey and everything, it's been decided that you'll work as the third officer for a while.'

Paris looked up.

‘Starting tomorrow,' he said. ‘You can hang back and watch a bit. It'll take the pressure off you. The other officer is Wayne Loftus, I don't know if you've met him? He helped us at the crash today. Anyway, it'll make things easier for you.'

‘I thought I was, uh, that I wouldn't be able to go back for a while,' she said. ‘I thought I was out. For now, I mean.'

‘How very generous,' Marie said. ‘They'll change everything just for her? How marvellous.'

Paris ignored her. The relief that she was still in, that she might still be able to pull herself together, was enormous.

‘Thank you,' she told Rowan.

‘We look after our people,' he said.

‘Marvellous,' Marie repeated.

Marie saw him out and waved as he drove off, then turned to Paris. ‘What's going on?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Him coming over here like that. He could've texted. He could've not told you at all. You'd find out soon enough, when you went back to work.'

Paris blinked. ‘Why does that make you so mad?'

‘Because I'm your mother and I should know what's going on in your life.'

‘You do,' Paris said. ‘I'm new in my job, my aunt's missing. Isn't that enough?'

‘Are you seeing him?'

‘What?' Paris couldn't believe it. ‘Are you kidding me? He's older than you!'

Marie's jaw was tight. ‘I know something's going on. What else am I supposed to think?'

‘You're insane.'

‘How dare you –'

‘How dare you,' Paris shot back. ‘You've seriously lost it.'

‘My sister's missing,' Marie wailed.

Paris had had enough. She stalked into her bedroom and flung the door shut. She would put her headphones on and turn the music up loud, and she would study. She would get better at the job, and she would save up, and she would move out of here as soon as she could, and she would never ever come back.

*

Ella and Murray grabbed a late lunch to eat in the car on the way from the office towards James's house, where they planned to talk to him about the dentist visit, the imprint in the notebook, and the texts. Going through Silverwater, however, they came across a recent accident, and had to tend to the shaken drivers and direct traffic until the paramedics and uniforms turned up and took over.

They reached James's place to find Marie's silver Toyota in the driveway again.

‘Interesting,' Murray said as they got out.

‘Keep it quiet,' Ella said.

‘You want to sneak up on them?'

‘Sneak has bad connotations,' she said. ‘I simply want to be quiet.'

‘That dog'll spot you,' he whispered behind her.

She'd deal with that if it happened.

She tried to cross the lawn silently but without looking like she was creeping. She made it to the patio, expecting barking to erupt from somewhere within the house, but all was silent. She got to the lounge room window and looked in, not really expecting to find anything, but instead seeing James sitting on the lounge with his head in his hands and Marie next to him, stroking his head, a smile on her face.

Then Murray stumbled up the step, the dog leapt barking from behind the lounge where he'd apparently been sleeping, and James and Marie looked up at her.

She waved. ‘Hello.'

James looked hopeful, and hurried to the door to let them in. Marie looked murderous.

‘Have you found her?' James said.

Marie joined them in the hallway, her handbag already on her shoulder. ‘Is there news?'

‘Not yet, sorry,' Ella said. Marie had reshaped her expression into one of worry. She was really something.

Murray said, ‘We have some more questions for James.'

‘For people who are supposed to be looking, you spend a lot of time talking,' Marie said.

Murray smiled at her. ‘It can seem that way, but we're only part of the team working on your sister's case. There are many others out there.'

‘I guess I'd better get out of your hair, then.' Marie kissed James on the cheek. ‘Try not to worry. They'll find her.'

Ella followed her outside. Marie was fast and was almost at her car already.

‘Just a moment,' Ella said. ‘I have a question or two.'

‘Or three, I'm guessing.' Marie smiled widely.

Ella didn't smile back. ‘How are you coping? No more faints?'

‘Not so far.'

‘Have you had any texts or calls from your sister's number?'

‘Not a thing,' Marie said.

‘What were you and James talking about?'

‘Stacey, of course. Where she might be, who did this to her. I asked him straight out if he knew more than he was letting on, if he knew what the texts were about. He was adamant that he didn't.'

There was something frenzied in her voice. Ella said, ‘And what about you?'

‘I believe him,' Marie said.

‘Do you know anything about the texts?'

‘Of course not. How would I?'

‘Do you know anything about the complaint that was made about James some time back?'

‘Only what Stacey told me,' she said. ‘That someone claimed he was defrauding his customers.'

‘What did she think about that?' Ella asked.

‘She said James was angry and upset.'

‘But what did
she
think about it?'

Marie hesitated. ‘She didn't say.'

‘Did you ask her directly if she thought it was true?'

‘No.'

‘Did you yourself think it could be true?'

‘No,' she said again. ‘Stacey said James told her someone was trying to cause trouble, and it wasn't true, and if he ever figured out who it was he'd make them pay.'

‘Did Stacey ever tell you that he figured it out?'

Marie shook her head. ‘After the police said they couldn't find anything, we never talked about it again.'

Ella nodded and glanced at Willetts' house across the street. ‘Was Stacey happy?'

‘James would know that better than me.'

‘Not necessarily.'

‘We weren't the kind of sisters to share confidences,' Marie said. ‘She seemed happy, I can say that much.'

‘Did the two of you argue?'

‘Now and again. Like any siblings.'

‘What about?'

‘What about?' Marie said. ‘What do any sisters argue about? What do you and your siblings argue about?'

‘I'm an only child,' Ella said.

‘Well,' Marie said. ‘We argued about the usual petty things.'

‘Like what?'

Marie opened the car and dropped her handbag in. ‘This is more than two questions.'

‘More than three even,' Ella said. ‘What did you argue about?'

‘Petty things,' Marie said again. ‘Like who brought the wine last time, like whether we should've got red or white.' She closed the door and walked away from the detective, around to the driver's side. ‘Please find her.'

‘We're doing our best, but it doesn't help when people won't tell us what they know,' Ella said. ‘Why are you in such a hurry to leave?'

‘Because I have a daughter who needs looking after,' Marie said haughtily. ‘Do you have children?'

‘No, I don't.'

‘Then you can't know what it's like when your child needs you.' Marie got in and slammed the door, then cranked the engine and roared off down the street.

Ella watched her go, certain Marie was glancing anxiously in her rear-view and wanting her to know she was onto her.
I've seen the relationship you have with your daughter, and if she ever needs anyone I really doubt it's you.

When the car turned out of sight she headed back to the house.

In the lounge room James was talking to Murray about computer fraud. When she came in, Murray said, ‘But that's not what we came to talk to you about.'

Ella took the fax from her pocket. James unfolded and read it. ‘What is it?'

‘It was written in the notebook we found in Stacey's bedside table.' Ella sat down opposite him. ‘The page and some before it had been torn out, but the imprint of those words was left.'

He looked at it again.

‘We know it's Stacey's handwriting,' Murray said. ‘Do you have any thoughts about what she's saying?'

‘My guess is that she wrote it when the complaint thing was happening,' he said. ‘At the start she was frightened and worried that someone hadn't only contacted the police but also set me up, so that when the police did their checking there'd be something to find.'

‘Does she often write down her feelings?' Ella asked. ‘Does she keep a diary or journal?'

‘No, she doesn't do it regularly or anything like that. But occasionally if she's done a tough case at work she'll write it down, then burn the pages. She said it was freeing. She might've done that here. Once the police said there was nothing to the complaint, she might've torn out the pages and burned them.'

Murray said, ‘Wouldn't she have told you?'

‘Not necessarily. She works shifts so she's here alone a lot. We don't give each other the full run-down of our days.'

Ella nodded. ‘She went to the dentist on Monday, correct?'

‘Yeah, she did. The plan was that she'd have lunch with me while her car was having a service, and then when she came in she said she had a toothache and wanted it seen to, so went to the dentist a few shops down.'

‘Is that her usual dentist?' Murray asked.

‘No, we go to one in Five Dock. I said why didn't she call him and go in there later, but she said she wanted it seen immediately, she didn't want it to get worse.'

It sounded weird to Ella. She said, ‘You followed her in there.'