Challis - 04 - Chain of Evidence (33 page)

But you do have a leak to the
media, Ells.

I know I do. What about you? Found
your killer yet?

The locals think they have. They
arrested a guy I went to school with, Paddy Finucane.

And...?

I dont think he did it.

* * * *

Saturday
morning was like all of the other mornings that spring: mild to hot, a little
dusty, the gum trees still and apt to creak as the temperature rose, the galahs
and cockatoos wheeling and screeching. But the church was cool, dimly lit, with
comforting gleams from the gold crosses and the stained glass. Challis was
surprised to see that the pews were full, then realised that it wasnt Gavin
that people had come for necessarily but sympathy for the family, dismay at the
kind of death suffered by Gavin, and a break from the long, monochrome days out
here at the edge of the rain shadow.

That impression was reinforced at
the graveside. Everyone was aware that Gavin had been found there; the freshly
turned earth was suggestive of his original resting place, not his final one.

And while the minister said his
final words and the coffin was lowered into the ground, Challis for a short
time did what a good detective will do. He was standing with Eve, Meg and his
father on one side of the grave, and from this position had a commanding view
of the other mourners, who had spread out on the opposite side. His gaze roamed
among their faces, which were serious, curious, blank, dutiful. Only two faces
gave away more than that: Paddy Finucanes wife, who stood at the margins of
the mourners, and the RSPCA boss, Sadler. Mrs Finucane caught Challiss eye,
flushed sadly and when he looked again later, shed disappeared, but Sadler was
staring intently at Meg and Eve, almost as if he wanted to rush to their aid.
Then he grew aware of Challis and the expression vanished. Challis didnt see
him again.

The little family was obliged to
linger. Lisa Joyce was one of the last to approach them. She wore a sombre
dress and shoes, her hair in a French bun, her face almost devoid of makeup,
and to Challis looked the more beautiful for it. She clasped Megs hands, then
Eves, and finally Challiss. Im so sorry.

She was frankly sad, all of her
sensuality muted, and continued to grasp him, her slender fingers fierce. She
was full of unexpressed emotions. He found himself searching her face, almost
as if twenty years hadnt passed and he was young again, wanting to know who
she really was.

Then she released him, stepped away
and crossed the parched dirt reluctantly to the black Range Rover, where Rex
Joyce waited. Joyce looked clean and crisp in a white shirt and dark suit, only
his eyes giving his privations away.

Challis felt exhausted suddenly. A
week had passed, marked by tedium, frustration and banality, but overlying all
of it, for Challis, was a sense of being watched and judged and found wanting.

* * * *

41

On
the following Monday morning, Sasha was out and about, lunging and veering
after fugitive odours, nostrils to the ground, sometimes pausing to dribble on
a post to mark her passage along the side streets of this part of Waterloo. Shed
slipped her lead the moment her owner had left for work that morning, then
squeezed through the gap where the drunken gate failed to seal the picket fence
around 57 Warrawee Drive. The neighbours all knew her; one would feed her some
kitchen scraps and return her to number 57 eventually. There was almost no
traffic along these little streets, so no one was particularly concerned for
her welfare. Besides, she had good road sense, for a dog.

What neither the neighbours nor the
owner knew was that she sometimes ventured several blocks away before returning
to Warrawee Drive, and so she had a second encounter with Katie Blasko, who was
being walked to school by her mother. This was a big day for Katie. Shed not
been at school for the past fortnight, but both she, and Donna, knew that
couldnt last. Donna was walking her. There had been a time when Katie rode her
bike to school, alone, but not any more. They were both too fearful for that,
and both had endured two weeks of whispering, pointing and appalled
fascination. And Donna had been feeling an obscure kind of shame, these past
few days. Nothing would have happened to Katie if she hadnt hired that photographer,
or if shed been a better mother instead of giving all of her attention to
Justin and not enough to Katie. Then again, Katie could be a real little brat
sometimes.

But not just at the moment.

They were a block from the school,
Donna unfurling her umbrella against a spring shower, when Sasha bounded up to
them, eyes bright, hindquarters in a frenzy. Sasha! cried Katie, kneeling to
hug the dog.

Youll get wet, said Donna
automatically. Dogs dismayed her. She was a cat person. Cats minded the rain.

This is Sasha! said Katie, still
joyful.

Donna frowned. It was great to see
Katie so animated, but what was the story with this dog? Sasha?

She was in the van with me, and at
the house, Katie said. Days had gone by and this was her first unconscious
reference to that terrible time.

Donnas wits were about her. She
went cold and still. Are you sure?

Katie flipped around the
registration and ID tags on Sashas collar. See? Sasha Lowan, 57 Warrawee
Drive, Waterloo. I remember now. And she knows me, dont you, Sash? Oh, youre
a good girl, youre such a good girl.

Dimly Donna remembered the police
asking about a dog, dog hairs discovered on Katies clothing and in that
horrible house. So horrible in Donnas imagination that shed vowed never again
to drive anywhere near the place.

She stood there in the gathering
rain and got out her mobile phone. She had Sergeant Destry on speed dial.

* * * *

Ellen
was in mid-briefing when the call came. She listened intently, then directed a
slow-burning smile around the room. Weve found the dog.

She sent John Tankard to bring in
the dog, and Scobie to contact the owner, then packed up and returned to her
office.

She was immersed in paperwork when
Scobie reported back. Spoke to the owner, he said, standing in her doorway.

Is he known to us?

No. And he has an alibi. Hes one
of the opticians in High Street. Bemused to think his dog might help us.

Then there was a commotion
downstairs and Ellen found John Tankard there, surrounded by uniforms and
civilian clerks oohing and aahing over the dog. Kellock was in the middle of
it, clearly irritable. This is a police station, not a bloody lost dogs home.

Do you bite? said Ellen to the
dog.

Tankard, a little smitten, said, Not
a harmful bone in her, Sarge.

Ellen drove Sasha up to the
ForenZics lab herself, a slow journey, owing to scudding rain. To her
irritation, Riggs was on duty. She was beginning to think of him as her bete
noire. He was a spike-haired young guy, with pierced eyebrows, earrings and a
studded belt looped through black jeans. Lab-cool, as though hed modelled
himself on a character in a US forensic policing show. He looked askance at
Sasha. This is still a grey area. We might not be able to get DNA from the
hairs found at the house. We can maybe testify that the hairs are similar, but
a good lawyer will laugh that out of court.

Ellen shrugged. She was tired of
Riggs. Meanwhile, police work often boiled down to maybe and might. She
watched him examine Sasha, who stood trembling, eyes rolled mournfully at
Ellen, as though terrified that a vet with a big needle or greased finger was
examining her. Shhh, she whispered, fondling Sashas silky ears.

Youre in my way, said Riggs
crossly. He elbowed Ellen aside and bent his head to Sashas neck. Well,
hello.

What?

Looks like dry blood on the collar.

Ellen peered. Sashas?

Theres no injury here. He glanced
quickly over the dog. Nor elsewhere. She might have been in a fight. Or its
her owners blood.

Or a strangers.

Well test it, said Riggs. Test
to see if its animal blood, then extract DNA and compare it to database
samples.

And that will take how long?

Riggs sniffed. As long as it takes.

However, said Ellen, wanting to
put the guy in his place, the sample might prove to come from a
ninety-year-old grandmother who died in a house fire three years ago.

Riggs went tight and red. Weve put
new procedures in place, he said.

* * * *

Ellen
returned to the Peninsula, Sasha asleep on the back seat, snoring a little. She
went straight to van Alphens office, but the sergeant was out of the station,
so she sought Kellock, who refused to let her have a couple of uniforms.

But I need to know if anyone
witnessed the dogs movements.

The
dogs
movements? For Gods
sake, Ells.

Its crucial, Ellen said
stubbornly. There was blood on the collar.

Kellock gazed at her for a long
moment. She couldnt tell what he was thinking, or if indeed he was thinking.
Eventually the words rumbled from his broad chest: Sorry, cant spare the
troops.

Ellen scowled. Its as if all the
urgencys gone now that Katies been found.

Kellock shrugged massively. He was
busy with files and barely glanced at her. Have you seen the roads? Theyre
wet and slippery. Weve had a spate of accidentsone of them caused by a
Jarrett kid, incidentally, all of twelve years old, driving a stolen car.

Ellen didnt doubt him, but she
sensed that hed lost interest in the Katie Blasko case. Meanwhile, where was
van Alphen?

And so she took Scobie Sutton with
her. Scobie got behind the wheel before she could. His usual bad driving was
exacerbated by the heavy rain, which Ellen knew was stirring the patina of
grease and oil into a dangerous slick on the road surfaces. She grabbed the
dashboard as he rounded a corner and braked mid-way down Warrawee Drive, his
hands clutching the wheel inexpertly as he checked house numbers.

Two blocks from Katie Blaskos, he
said. What do you think happened? Sasha wanders off, finds herself on Trevally
Street, sees Duykers van with the door open, and somehow or other climbs
aboard without being noticed.

Makes sense, Ellen said, gingerly
letting go the dashboard.

But how did Sasha find her way home
again? How long was she missing?

Ellens head snapped forward as
Scobie reversed. Obviously Duyker brought her back here, she gasped.

Scobie braked again. Hed rape and
maybe kill a child, but be kind to a dog?

Yes.

Scobie considered that, full of
doubt. But why not let the dog out somewhere else? Why risk bringing it back?

People would wonder. Theyd take
her to the pound, the RSPCA, a vet, the police. That would generate a record.
But if Sasha is found or released a block or two from home, no ones going to
wonder about it.

You could be right.

And so they began doorknocking. At
5.15 they got lucky.

Sasha? I know Sasha. She was with
the little Blasko girl, the one who was abducted.

Ellen went cold. She regarded the
speaker, an elderly woman, intently. How do you know that, Mrs Cooper? That
detail has never been made public

I heard the childs mother talking
about it in the shop this afternoon.

Curse the woman, Ellen thought. We
need to know Sashas movements at the time of the abduction.

Mrs Coopers eyes twinkled. You
make Sasha sound as if shes a suspect.

Ellen gave her a lop-sided grin. My
report-writing language infects my regular speech sometimes.

Mrs Cooper smiled. I was an English
teacher, she said cryptically. Now, lets see. I feed Sasha sometimes. Bacon
rind. Its too tough for my teeth.

Yes.

So I probably saw her that day, but
I cant be sure. Ask me something that happened forty years ago and Ill
remember every detail.

Ellen said carefully, Did Sasha
have a history of jumping into peoples cars?

Oh, yes, indeed she did! Sometimes
shed appear just as I was about to drive to the shops. Shed leap in and
immediately go to sleep in the back. I always leave the window part-way down
for her, whilst shopping. If its too hot, I make her get out of the car.

To halt the flood, Ellen said, How
did other people hereabouts treat her?

Mrs Cooper smiled at the hereabouts.
We all know her. Most try to discourage her. I suppose I should, too.

What if someone didnt realise that
shed jumped in?

Then theyd drive all over the
Peninsula with her, maybe even to Queensland with the holiday luggage.

But people know where she lives.
Theyd bring her back eventually.

Of course.

Scobie spoke for the first time. Can
you recall any instances of people letting Sasha out of their cars?

Recently?

Yes.