Challis - 05 - Blood Moon (16 page)

Cree got there quickly, the prick. CIU
thinks Roe was hanging around the schoolies? What, selling drugs? Buying?
Looking for pussy?

She smiled at him. Just a
possibility. Your main task tonight is to keep an eye on the kids. Its the
eclipse, and theyre all hyped up about it. Maybe the sight of a red moon will
bliss them out and we can all go home to bed early, maybe it will stir them up.

Her gaze lingered. Cree gazed back.
To break up the love-fest, Tank said, So how do we play it?

She turned to him reluctantly and
said, Mingle, John. Let yourselves be seen. Talk to the kids, let them know
youve got their backs if they get into strife. Warn off the toolies, step in
if an argument looks like brewing, confiscate car keys from kids who are too
drunk or high to drive. And turn a blind eye to minor infringements. Dont make
unnecessary paperwork for yourselves. Let the kids have their fun, so long as
no one gets hurtschoolie or local.

She swung around to Cree again, as
if seeking his okay. Any questions?

How do you mean, mingle? Tank
demanded. Were coppers. We look like coppers. Were old, to them.

With a quick glance at the ceiling
and down again, Murph said, Thats the whole point. Were not there to spy, were
there to give help and comfort. Be a presence. Get chatting. Give advice. If
anyone needs food or water or money, provide it.

We get reimbursed?

Pam merely smiled. Tank said in
disgust, Terrific.

Im talking about ten bucks for a
bus fare, Tank, not your annual salary.

She was glancing at Cree. Tank felt
very lonely in the world. Whatever.

* * * *

By
late that same afternoon, Ellen Destry had finished at the Landseer School. Shed
re-questioned the library staff and anyone whod taught Zara Selkirk, learning
only that the girl and her two Facebook friends were no better or worse than
other spoilt-brat bullies whod passed through the school. Ellen heard stories
of binge drinking, drug taking and sexual romps, and the careless, unreflective
and vulgar culture that allowed it to happen. Moorhouse said, Im a generation
older than many of these parents. Its as if they dont know how to be parents,
how to apply discipline. Of course, theyre also too rich and too busy.
Needless to say, weve placed filters on the schools computers, banning access
to sites like Facebook.

Good luck, thought Ellen. The kids
have home computers. They can access software that will get through any filter
a school or a parent cares to install.

Next she drove to a small brick
house beside the railway line in Baxter, where the spring weeds were rampant
and Merle Richardson spoke in a defeated whisper: I just want to forget about
it and get on with my life.

Ellen said gently, How did you feel
when the school offered an apology, to be mediated by the chaplain?

Richardson screwed a damp
handkerchief between her knuckly fingers. Too little, too late.

Did you resent the chaplains role?
Could he have been more supportive of you?

I know what youre implying. I want
nothing to do with an apology. My brother urged me to get legal advice, and the
lawyer told me that accepting an apology would compromise my chances of getting
a financial settlement from the school.

Did you tell the school that you
were seeking legal advice?

My lawyer did.

Did you cancel the meeting with the
chaplain?

My lawyer did.

Did the chaplain try to change your
mind?

Ive had nothing to do with the
school or anyone in it since the abuse happened.

Ellen nodded, wondering if she could
charge Zara Selkirk and her friends with stalking, misuse of a
telecommunications device, and manufacturing pornography. Okay, thank you,
she said, hoping that Merle Richardson got millions in compensation.

She was trudging toward her car,
head down, when she saw that she was missing a wheel trim. She cursed, blaming
the rough dirt roads near Hals househer house. Two weeks earlier, shed lost
another wheel trim, finding it again on one of her walks. Could she keep losing
and finding wheel trims?

By now it was early evening. Before
starting the engine she called Challis. It went to voicemail. Its only me, she
said. Heading for home. See you when I see you.

It was often like this: they wanted
to see each other, eat with each other, spend the evening together, but always
the jobs obligations intervened, the overdue reports, pending phone calls,
last-minute interruptions.

As Ellen drove away she could feel
Merle Richardson behind a curtain, watching, waiting, feeling unsafe.
Distracted by feelings of impotence, she at first didnt realise that shed
made a wrong turning, one that took her up into the southern edge of Frankston.
She drove past little houses, parks and shops, past kids on bikes and commuters
returning from the station or the city, and wondered how it would be to live
like that again, amid neighbours. Quite a few of the houses were for sale. Could
she afford to buy one? Did she want to live here?

More to the point, did she want to
live alone? Would that hurt Hal? Could she hurt him?

She corrected her direction at the
next roundabout. The traffic was streaming out of Frankston and boxed her in.
She was deeply fatigued, and on the outskirts of Somerville saw a broken-backed
magpie in the waning light, its bewildered mate hopping out of the path of her
car with what seemed to Ellen to be a look of reproach and appeal.

* * * *

Challis
had ended up spending the entire afternoon with McQuarrie. He returned to
Waterloo feeling fired up, wanting to talk to Ellen. But she wasnt in CIU,
and, instead of driving straight home, he made the mistake of checking his
e-mails and message slips. Soon evening settled and he was returning phone
calls from the media and handling a stack of paperwork. His in tray, like the
top of his desk in general, was overflowing with material from numerous cases,
including the Roe assault: forensic reports, investigation and crime-scene
worksheets; witness lists and statements; field notes; sketches, photographs
and cased videos; interview transcriptions; and ongoing investigative
narratives, which were updated from time to time as needed. No murder book just
now, thank God.

But then he came across an internal
alert notifying him that one of his officers had accessed the Law Enforcement
Database that morning. It was a touchy issue: when the system was first set up,
bored coppers had used it to look into the private lives of TV stars and
celebrity footballers, and before long the abuse had grown more serious. One
officer had been demoted for accumulating information on his estranged wifes
new lover, a handful of others admonished for searching the files of a
parliamentary candidate whod campaigned on the issue of police corruption, and
one detective sacked for leaking LED material on one drug dealer to a rival
dealer.

Challis didnt know why Pam Murphy
had logged on, only that an audit had triggered automatically when she logged out.
He didnt doubt that shed searched the database as part of her official
duties, but she hadnt advised him first and now he was obliged to follow it
up.

He leaned back, lacing his fingers
behind his head. He was a very private man. He hated for anyone to know
anything about him, but they did know things, and there was little he could do
to control the flow of information. At the same time, his daily work demanded
that he uncover peoples secrets. The issue of privacy ceased to exist, in many
investigations. Achieving justice, and maintaining public safety, demanded that
he dig up, expose and use the things that people wanted to hide. It was another
illustration of the great divide: us and them, the police and the general mass
of people. Thats why access to the LED database had to be tightly controlled.
A lesser man than Challis might want to use it to learn if his new lover had
secret debts, for example, or if his lovers daughter was involved in the drug
scene.

Meanwhile, who was Hugh Ebeling, and
why had Pam Murphy been looking into his affairs?

The phone rang again and the front
desk said, Sorry, Inspector, but weve got a missing person and theres no one
else available.

Challis groaned. Mis per cases were
a headache. A spouse, partner or child might have very good reasons for
disappearing, and police attention might make things worse for them. Many
returned of their own accord, or at least made contact, but some feared theyd
be harmed if they did. Of course, others were missing because theyd been
murdered and their bodies disposed of. Details?

Best if you came down and talked to
the gentleman concerned.

The time was eight oclock.

* * * *

22

Challis
clattered down the stairs and joined the duty sergeant at the front desk. Night
had settled; there was deep darkness beyond the light outside the main
entrance. This is Mr Wishart, sir.

Wishart thrust his hand over the
desk, knocking the sign-in book askew. Adrian Wishart, he said. His grip was
firm but so moist that Challis cringed.

He made a rapid scan of Wishart.
Age, mid-thirties. Medium height. Artfully tousled hair, unmarked hands, and
casual but costly looking jacket and trousers, so he probably worked indoors
for good money. Clean-shaven: in fact, freshly shaven, his lean, ascetic
features almost gleaming. Some kind of cologne drifted faintly in the disturbed
air, disturbed because Wishart was trembling, suppressing powerful emotions, or
giving that appearance. Challis read the body language and decided that Wishart
was inventing it, behaving as he imagined a husband should behave. Still,
Challis wasnt about to read too much into that. Hed been wrong before, people
behaved oddly in the presence of the police, and Wisharts concern might not be
loving but material: shed run off with all of his money, for example.

Your wife is missing?

Yes, said Wishart in a rush. Ludmilla.
Todays her birthday and were supposed to go out for dinner. He glanced at
his watch. She normally gets home at half-past five.

Challis checked his own watch. Just
after eight oclock. Perhaps she went straight to the restaurant?

No. I was expecting to find her at
home, wed have a drink, get changed, go out.

Challis looked past him into the
darkness. The light was odd out there. The eclipse. He turned to Wishart and
said, What time did you get home?

About six.

Where do you work?

Wishart frowned. At home.

Challis frowned. I thought you said
you came home about six.

Wisharts expression cleared. What
I mean is, I work from home but Id been up to visit my uncle in Cheltenham. He
had a present for Mill

Is Mill short for Ludmilla?

Yes. Anyway, she turned thirty and
he had a present for her. Weve been close, you knowsince my parents died.

His name?

Terry.

Terry Wishart? Ill need his
contact details.

The man looked perplexed. Okay.

What do you do?

Architect.

Your wife?

Shes the infringements officer at
Planning East.

Challis frowned, placing the office
mentally. Next to Centrelink?

Yes. Shes not there, her cars not
there, and shes not answering her phone.

Why didnt you wait at home for her
and call us instead of coming in?

I did wait. I waited for ages, then
thought to check the carpark, and was passing the police station and thought

Its all right, said Challis
smoothly. Have you rung her work colleagues? Her friends, family?

Her mothers in Sydney. She wouldnt
go there. I rang her friend Carmen. She said she saw Mill at lunchtime, said
Mill was going to be out and about for work all afternoon. Im worried.

Challis said carefully, I have to
ask you this: have you argued with Ludmilla recently? Is there anything in your
relationship that might lead her to pack a bag and leave?

Absolutely not.

Have you checked her belongings?

Yes. First thing I did. Nothings
missing.

The first thing you did? So there
was a reason why she might have packed a bag and left?

No! I mean, after it became clear
she was late, I made several phone calls, and it was Carmen who said I should
check to see if shed done that, packed a bag and left.

Has she done this kind of thing
before?

Never! Its not like her.

How many times have I heard that?
thought Challis. It was another of mankinds great lies, like a poor man can
get into the White House. In his experience, most people were blind to their
loved ones inclinations and potential. On the other hand, it paid the police
to listen, just in case. He said, Another hard question: do you have any
reason to believe there could be someone else in her life? Phone calls she
takes in another room, alterations to her habits, new clothes, returning late
from work...