Challis - 05 - Blood Moon (32 page)

I told you youd hate me, think
less of me.

In fact, Challis had no thoughts
about the matter and knew his face hadnt betrayed any. He felt desperately sad
that she was so upset, thats all. He said simply, I love you.

Tears pricked her eyes. No you dont.
How could you?

I love you.

She wailed, Its over.

No it isnt.

Im a police officer and I steal.
Dont you get it?

Counselling. Therapy. Hypnotism.

Its not that simple.

Yes it is.

I feel grubby.

So get clean.

Im a police officer.

You still catch the bad guys,
right? You dont take bribes, you dont look the other way?

Im a hypocrite.

Who isnt?

She was shaking her head in
frustration. It was as if she wanted him to hate her. And the job, she
continued. Theyre not going to let us work together now that were living
together. Even if they did, the dynamics have changed. Even if we stop seeing
each other and live apart, we cant go back to the way things were. Would we
take on separate cases? What if we weakened and fell into bed together, or had
a quarrel, how could that not affect how we related to each other? If I
disagreed with you professionally about something, or vice versa, would we be
able to keep our feelings, our shared history, out of it? What if you
subconsciously favoured me sometimes: how do you think Pam and Scobie would
feel about that? What if you subconsciously punished me?

Challis said immediately, Im not
supposed to tell you this, but McQuarrie knows about us.

Oh, shit.

Its okay, Challis said, holding
up a placating hand, hes not going to transfer one of us to the bush or take
disciplinary action. He has a high opinion of you.

He went on to outline McQuarries
proposal for three new units on the Peninsula, saying, Im not supposed to
tell you yet. He wants me to think on it and let him know which one I think he
should offer you. Youd be promoted to senior sergeant.

To his astonishment, her face fell. Oh
Hal, how can I even go on doing this job, let alone head a new unit? Listen to
what Ive just said about myself. How can you even support such a move? Its
out of the question.

Youd be mad not to accept, he
growled.

She flinched and looked away.

He pushed on. First things first.
Right now, weve got a job to do. A killer to catch.

She breathed in and out. She seemed
to struggle mightily with herself. Okay. All right. And speaking of killers...
That memory stickI found it hidden in Adrian Wisharts place.

He stared at her.

I broke in, she said.

Another thing you do.

Its not funny, she flashed at
him, her chin jutting.

Im not laughing.

Yes, it
is
another thing I
do. Not often, and always case related.

She was daring him to hate her. He
said, You dont do it to steal. You do it to get a feel for the person living
there and maybe find something the police can use.

She gaped at him.

Ells, he said, youre not the
first copper to do it and you wont be the last.

She swallowed, the motion distinct
in her throat. You, too?

Its been known to happen.

She looked momentarily confused, and
waved both hands jerkily as if to wipe away the distractions.

Youve seen whats on the device?
said Challis. The maps and co-ordinates? Whats that all about, I wonder.

Ellen shifted uncomfortably. You
know more than I do. I was kind of trying to forget I had it. Then she looked
at him intently and said, Hal, I almost took some money as well.

Challis went very still. Hidden? A
lot?

No, she said, and explained the
circumstances, staring miserably at the floor.

Come with me, Challis said,
grabbing her hand and dragging her back to the kitchen. When they reached the
laptop he said, Okay, forget the past ten minutes, think like a cop.

They stood together, staring at the
screen. Presently he sensed Ellen grow calmer, her focus clearer. He waited,
and after a while she pointed and said, I know what this is.

What?

GPS locations. Adrian was mapping
his wifes movements.

How does it work?

She took out the memory stick and
examined it. This is the locator. He sticks it in his wifes car or bag, and
retrieves it at the end of the day to see where shes been.

Challiss mouth was dry. We need to
see if it shows her movements on Wednesday. If so, he was at the murder scene.
He retrieved it.

Killed her, you mean, Ellen said.

Yes.

Challis let Ellen sift through the
data. Eventually she looked around at him. Tuesday, and the days prior to
Tuesday, but nothing for Wednesday.

Damn.

But it shows intent.

Ells, we cant use it in court. Its
not logged on as evidence. It was stolen from the guys house.

She winced, chagrined. Sorry.

Not to worry. Well think of a way.

That was a pact, and a renewal, and
the strain evaporated until the next time.

* * * *

44

And
so first thing on Saturday morning they examined the list of items that had
been removed from Adrian Wisharts house: the home computer, shared by Wishart
and his wife, letters, photograph albums, household files...

And four items grouped together as:
Four
(4) USB flash drives/ memory sticks.

I cant risk adding a fifth to the
list, said Challis. Or crossing out the 4 and substituting a 5, without
alerting the guys lawyer further down the track. Its part of the formal log
now.

Sorry, Hal, Ellen said again.

Well work it out.

They were in the CIU incident room,
the first floor quiet. But not quiet downstairs: the station was always busy on
Saturday mornings, with a steady stream of people reporting incidents from the
previous night or needing a police officer to witness a statutory declaration.
There was also Adrian Wishart, cooling his heels in an interview roomand not a
happy boy.

Has anyone examined the flash
drives yet?

Scobies had a quick look. One
contains digital images of houses and other buildings, including the house that
was demolished, another job applications and different versions of Wisharts
CV, the third some articles on domestic architecture written by Wishart for
architectural magazines. The fourth is new, still in its packaging.

Ellen felt a tingle. The paperwork
doesnt stipulate that its new, still in its packaging.

True.

So we do a switch.

Challis raised an eyebrow at her. Could
work

Did Scobie report to you verbally
about the details of the memory sticks? Or did he add a formal written note to
the murder book?

Verbally.

Then were okay.

Challis had brewed coffee in the
tearoom. Grabbing Tim Tams from someones private stash, they headed downstairs
to Interview Room 2, where Adrian Wishart was stewing with his lawyer. Challis
had seen the lawyer around town. Her name was Hoyt and she operated from an
office suite above a pharmacy on High Street, specialising in wills and
property conveyancing. That didnt make her ineffectual in criminal matters
however, and she exploded when Challis and Ellen entered the room:

Its unconscionable, keeping my
client waiting like this. I should also point out that hes already been
interviewed and provided a full and open account of his movements the day his
wife was murdered. Hes grieving, and treating him like this is prolonging the
pain.

She had to say all of that, while
Challis and Ellen nodded pleasantly, and Challis followed up with an apology. Were
terribly sorry, but some important new information has come to light and it
needed processing.

What information? demanded Hoyt.

She was a thin, raddled-looking
smoker, the skin of her face pinched and grey, no nourishment on her bones. She
also looked uncomfortably hot: the room was warm from too many bodies overnight
and noxious smells lingered. It was partly why Challis had chosen it.

He turned to Wishart, who was
wilting, his hair damp, face drawn, moist patches showing on his shirt. You
were tracking your wifes movements.

Wishart frowned. Dont know what
you mean.

Challis revealed the TrackStick in a
clear plastic evidence bag and stated the evidence number and a description for
the tape. This was found in your home and subsequently logged into evidence.

Wishart looked hunted; his eyes
darted; he swallowed. Hed hidden it in a secret place. If he challenged them
on that, hed also have to explain the hiding place and the reason for it. So?

A flash drive, said the lawyer. So
what? Is there blood on it?

A weak crack and it annoyed Challis.
Its a GPS device. Suspicious people like your client hide these devices in
their spouses handbag or briefcase or glovebox, or in their teenage kids
backpack, and it records the various locations visited during the day or night,
and how much time was spent at each location. You simply plug it into your
computer afterwards and up comes the information.

So what? said Hoyt dismissively. You
cant blame people for wanting peace of mind, especially parents of autistic or
Down Syndrome children, or husbands whose wives spend a lot of time visiting
remote locations and angry clients.

Wishart gazed at her in
appreciation, then swung his gaze to Challis. Thats what I was doing, he
said. I was worried about my wife.

Challis had expected this. Did you
track her movements on the day she was murdered?

No, I was at my uncle Terrys shop
in the city. I told you that.

Challis picked up the TrackStick. Youve
been tracking your wife for weeks.

Wishart shrugged. So?

Why didnt you track her on
Wednesday? Was it because you knew where shed be and had already intended to
kill her?

I didnt kill her.

I think you were insanely jealous
and protective of your wife. You needed to control and monitor everything she
did.

No.

Thats why you used a tracking
device. It wasnt to protect herafter all, you could only read the findings
after
the eventbut to know her every move, so that you could stalk her,
anticipate her, challenge her, ambush her.

No!

Ellen had broken her Tim Tarn into
nibble-sized portions. She wet a finger, transferred a flake of chocolate to
her mouth. Did she really have a lover, as you suggested the other day? Carl
Vernon denies emphatically that he was her lover.

I was mistaken. On reflection, all
of her movements were innocent. Work related. But I was worried about her.
People would threaten her.

Tracking your own wife, said Ellen
flatly. A pretty sleazy thing to do, Ade, dont you think?

He flushed and Hoyt said, Its not
a crime. That tracking device is not hard evidence. Youre fishing. Youre badgering
my client. Were finished here.

They had to let him go.

* * * *

Only
Smith and Jones were in the incident room, hunched over a computer screen,
plenty of nudge nudge, wink wink in their body language. Porn, thought Ellen.
They made her feel immensely weary. They each gave a little jump, then Smith
joggled the mouse, Jones returned to his desk.

Hal, at her side, seemed equally fed
up. Seen Scobie?

Smith and Jones pantomimed
bafflement and helpfulness. Havent seen him all morning.

We need his analysis of Ludmillas
bank statements. We need to know if she shows up on CCTV cameras.

This time it was a slow-dawning
appreciation for the urgency and seriousness of the work. Well let him know,
boss.

Pam?

Havent seen her, boss, Smith and
Jones said, some undercurrents in the way they said it.

The room was oppressive. Ellen
tugged on Challiss sleeve. Lets grab a bite to eat.

They clattered down the stairs. In
the canteen Challis said, The TrackStick helps confirm our instincts about
Adrian, but it doesnt prove he killed his wife.

Suddenly Ellen couldnt look at him.
Ever since last night a vague, unwelcome anxiety had been settling in her, and
now it took shape. It wasnt so much that she felt bad about stealing the
TrackStick, or being found out, as that she thought less of her confessor. Not
by much, hardly at all, but in a tiny corner of herself she was disappointed in
Challis. Why didnt he hate her? Why wasnt he admonishing her, punishing her?

Maybe helping him nail Wishart would
cure that. Her mouth very dry, her face probably revealing her wretchedness,
she placed a hand on his slender forearm. It comes down to his alibi. I vote
we have another crack at the uncle.