Authors: Vicki Tyley
Lunch arrived
before he could answer. Momentarily forgetting her question, Jacinta descended
on her focaccia like a ravenous beast, not realising until then how hungry she
really was. It wasn’t until she had swallowed her first mouthful and was on to
her next that she looked up.
Daniel had got
as far as picking up his knife and fork. “Hungry?” he asked, his eyes crinkling
in amusement.
Her mouth full,
she simply nodded, continuing to cut off another piece of the focaccia before
spearing it with her fork. Swallowing, she reworded her question. “What has
happened to make you think I can be of any help now when I was nothing but a
hindrance before?” She took another bite, waiting for him to reply.
Daniel held her
gaze. He had a way of studying her that made her feel as if he were reaching
right into her mind. She stopped chewing, suddenly self-conscious. He glanced
down at his salad and then, without a word, started jamming shavings of pink
roast beef, mesclun leaves and semi-dried tomatoes onto his fork. “Eat your
lunch,” he said, nodding at her plate as he lifted his own laden fork to his
mouth.
Too hungry to argue, she did as she was told, and ate. Over lunch, they barely exchanged a word,
the only conversation coming from neighbouring tables.
Daniel wiped his
mouth on a paper napkin, tossing it onto his empty plate as he started to rise.
“Fancy a walk in Treasury Gardens? We’re less likely to be overheard there,” he
said, reaching into his hip pocket for his wallet.
“I can’t,” she
said, checking her watch and standing up. “Some of us have to work.” Arriving
late for work was one thing, but a long lunch would really have been pushing
it. “I’m sorry, it’s going to have to wait.” She shoved her chair in. “Narelle
is expecting me straight after work, but then I’m all yours.”
“What about
Brett? I was under the impression he wanted you to stay as far away from this
investigation as possible.”
Perceptive, as
well as a mind reader. “He’s flying to Canberra this afternoon for an IT
conference. I’m on my own for the rest of the week.”
Daniel’s
eyebrows drew together in concern, the furrow on his forehead deepening. “Maybe
this isn’t a good idea after all.”
She drew herself
up to her full height. “Don’t you start getting all over-protective on me as
well. It might not look like it, but I’m perfectly capable of looking after
myself.”
He still didn’t
look convinced.
“I promise I
won’t do anything stupid.”
The cashier
dropped the change into Daniel’s open hand. “It’s not your actions I’m worried
about,” he said, turning to face her as he tucked the coins into his trouser
fob pocket.
They parted
company on the footpath, Daniel turning left and she crossing the street to
walk back to work.
Kept busy, her
afternoon passed quickly. Before she knew it, it was five o’clock. She finished
formatting the text she was working on and packed up.
Foraging in her
satchel for her tram ticket, she left her office. She found the ticket, almost
dropping it again when she caught sight of Daniel sitting in reception, leafing
through an album of the company’s latest work. She raised her eyebrows
questioningly.
He closed the
album, replacing it on the low table next to the chair. Standing feet together,
he doffed an imaginary cap. “Your car is waiting, ma’am.”
“I thought we
weren’t meeting until later.”
“Correct, but
since I was in the area, I thought we could kill two birds with one stone, so
to speak. You need to get to the hospital, we need to talk and I have a car. I
thought we could talk in the car on the way to the hospital. I’ll wait for you
and then you can either join the Lassiter family for a very informal dinner or,
if that doesn’t suit, I’ll run you home. A win-win situation, don’t you think?”
He gave her a broad grin.
It certainly
sounded more tempting than a bowl of two-minute noodles, with only the
television for company. “But Wendy’s not going to want a dinner guest landing
on her unexpectedly.”
He ushered her
out the door. “Wendy suggested it.”
In the time it
took to walk the two blocks to the car park, drive in a spiral down five levels
to the exit, nose the car into peak-hour traffic and make it to the CBD
outskirts, she could’ve been at the hospital. Except for when some mindless
driver decided to cross the tram tracks before checking it was clear on the
other side, trams on St Kilda Road didn’t have to contend with vehicular traffic.
With outbound
traffic at a crawl, Daniel had no excuse for avoiding her questions. “You still
haven’t told me what changed your mind.”
Having had all
afternoon to come up with what he wanted to say, he didn’t hesitate. “To be
honest, Jacinta, I’m at a bit of an impasse.” Somewhere behind them, a couple
of impatient motorists were having a tooting contest. “So far I have three
people on my list to talk to.” He didn’t need to name names for her to know to
whom he was referring. “But it’s proving rather difficult,” he said, tapping
his finger against the underside of the steering wheel. “Besides the fact that
we’ve been refused access to all three on medical grounds…”
“What’s happened
to Grace Kevron? She is the third person, right?”
“Grace is fine.
She’s responding well to treatment, but I can’t give you any details.”
“Can’t or
won’t?”
He glanced
sideways at her, the tensing of his jaw almost imperceptible.
“Look, Daniel,
I’ll do everything I can to help, but you have to be straight with me. No
bullshit.”
As the lights at
the corner of St Kilda and Commercial Road changed to green, he mumbled
something under his breath that sounded like, “Ditto.” Turning left into
Commercial Road, he said, “Do you have any idea how far I’ve already put my
neck out, telling you what I have?”
“Of course I do!
But if this is going to work, we have to pool our resources. What the hell do
you think I’m going to do with the information? Sell it to the highest bidder?
Now there’s a thought,” she added sarcastically. Seeing the hospital up on the
right, she started to unbuckle her seatbelt.
As the car
passed under The Alfred’s helipad, the mobile phone in the dashboard cradle
rang, its display screen lighting up. After three rings, it answered
automatically, leaving Daniel no option but to respond.
“DI Lassiter,”
he announced, glancing down at the screen.
“Daniel, it’s
Renee. Craig Edmonds has been shot. The bullet penetrated his shoulder, causing
massive bleeding. He’s alive but critical.”
Jacinta’s mouth
opened in a silent gasp, her gaze flitting from the mobile phone to the
expansive multi-storeyed hospital complex across the road.
“Where did it
happen?” Daniel pulled into a no parking zone, leaving the engine idling.
“Outside his
house. His wife is beside herself. She can’t give us any information. I don’t
think she knows what day it is. A couple of neighbours heard what they thought
was a car backfiring, but so far we haven’t found any eye witnesses.”
He glanced at
Jacinta. “Where’s his wife?”
“Inside the
house. A paramedic is with her.”
“Where’s the gun
now?”
“There’s no sign
of it, but we’re still looking. Crime scene are here now, doing their bit.
Let’s hope they come up with something soon.”
Jacinta found it
all too hard to take in at once. When had Narelle been discharged? Why hadn’t
she let Jacinta know? Had she been with Craig when he was shot? Had he been the
intended victim, or had he been shielding his wife? Had either of them seen his
attacker? Was the weapon used the missing revolver? Question after question
raced through her head, the answers nowhere in sight.
Jacinta sat unnoticed in the middle
of a row of vinyl-covered seats, that bowl of two-minute noodles in front of
the television looking more inviting by the minute. Around her, the bustle of
hospital activity continued unabated. A steady stream of medical staff, only
distinguishable from the visitors by their identification tags and a general
air of belonging or the stethoscope around their neck, passed by without a
second glance in her direction.
A disposable
coffee cup rested on the seat beside her, its contents gnawing a hole in her
stomach. She stifled a yawn, collected the empty cup and, grateful for the
excuse to stretch her legs, went in search of a rubbish bin.
She gave the
stocky police officer on duty outside Craig Edmonds’ room a small smile, but he
didn’t even acknowledge her presence, the corners of his mouth remaining
down-turned. With Craig not long out of surgery, his visitors had been
restricted to immediate family. She had hoped for a chance to talk with Narelle
before the detectives did, but Narelle had yet to leave her husband’s side, and
there was no way Constable Gloomy was going to let Jacinta past.
Down at the
nurses’ station, she spotted Daniel deep in conversation with a tall, officious-looking
woman. She nodded as he spoke, jotting something on the front of the file
sitting on the counter. Tossing her empty cup into the nearest bin, Jacinta
walked toward them, hoping to catch what was being said. Unfortunately, like a
schoolteacher she’d once had, Daniel had eyes in the back of his head.
“If there’s any
change,” he said, half-turning as Jacinta came up behind him, “please call me
on my mobile.” Giving Jacinta a dismissive glance, the woman dropped the
business card Daniel had handed her into her pocket and walked away, the file
clutched to her chest.
“I just need a
minute with Constable Grant, and then we’ll be away,” Daniel said, striding off
in the direction from which she had just come.
Waiting for his
return, Jacinta loitered around the nurses’ station, peeping over the
countertop on the off-chance that information pertaining to the gunshot victim
might have been left lying around. Over the years, she had become adept at
reading upside down, but in this case, nothing viewable interested her.
Daniel was soon
back, an edginess about him that told her he was keen to get home. Trotting
alongside him, she wondered how Wendy coped with the unpredictable nature of
her husband’s job, the long hours and call-outs seemingly so at odds with a
stable family life.
Outside the
hospital, streetlights and car headlights punched hazy patterns in the settling
dusk. A light wind, carrying the last of the sun’s heat, tickled Jacinta’s
skin. She breathed deeply, displacing the chilled antiseptic air of the
hospital in her lungs.
They walked
quickly, detouring around other pedestrians and sidestepping the occasional
jogger or dog-walker coming their way, not speaking. Once at the car park, she
followed him up the concrete ramp, the echoes of his heavy footsteps dominating
her lighter clip-clop. Low light and looming shadows laced the car park,
generating a flutter of irrational fear in her chest. She quickened her pace,
intent on staying as close to her stepbrother as possible. Sixteen years
earlier, it would have been the other way around, yet now here she was, looking
to him as a protector, an irony not lost on her.
Rounding the
corner, Daniel pressed the remote on his key ring, the resulting beep
piercingly loud in the stillness. “We’ll call Wendy on the way,” he said,
crossing to the car. “She wasn’t going to start dinner,” he glanced at his
watch, “supper, until she heard from us. I can promise you it won’t be anything
fancy,” he added, before Jacinta could protest. He laughed. “Don’t be surprised
if it’s only baked beans on toast. Wendy gave up trying to cook meals for me a
long time ago. If I’m there when she’s feeding the boys, all well and good, but
if not, I usually fend for myself.”
Anything had to
be better than eating on her own. Reassured that Wendy wouldn’t be going to any
extra trouble on her account, Jacinta opened the car door and got in.
“Do you ever
turn that thing off?” she asked as Daniel clipped his mobile phone into the
cradle.
“Unfortunately,
it’s part of the job. Fingers crossed it doesn’t ring again tonight.”
Jacinta waited
until they had exited the car park and were heading down Commercial Road before
she pounced. “Now, where were we? That’s right; you wanted my help and you were
about to fill me in on the details of the investigation.”
For a few
drawn-out seconds, Daniel said nothing. Then, clearing his throat, he began to
speak. “Craig Edmonds, his wife, Narelle, and Grace Kevron are all people of
interest to us. That’s not to say they’re all suspects, but we do need to
eliminate them from our inquiry.” He took a breath. “That’s where you come in.
The police can ask as many questions and use as many techniques as they like,
but these people have all had years to bury their secrets. Your friendship with
Narelle means you’re already a lot closer than we could ever expect to be. If
you believe in her innocence, getting to the truth sooner rather than later can
only be in her best interests.”
“Daniel, I
understand that, but you haven’t told me anything I don’t already know. How am
I supposed to know what to look for if you don’t tell me everything? I can’t
work with only part of the information.”
Eventually he
capitulated, addressing her as she imagined he would brief his colleagues.
Starting with a background summary to the original Edmonds’ case, where Craig
Edmonds had been charged with his wife’s murder – most of which she had already
surmised from the trial transcript – he led her through the investigation up to
Craig’s shooting.
If everything he
said was true, the case was far from simple. And, whether he’d had time to
rethink his position or he had decided he could trust his stepsister after all,
he had probably just broken every police procedure in the book.