Challis - 05 - Blood Moon (7 page)

They gazed at Somerland. It dreamed
under the silent pines as if it had taken root there, merging naturally with
the soil, the trees and the sky. It might have gone unrecognised and been
demolished if Carl Vernon hadnt decided to keep mentally active in his
retirement years by writing a history of Penzance Beach. According to his
research, Somerland had been built by the towns founder and remained in the
descendants hands until last year, when the elderly owner died.

Carl gave Ludmilla another hug.
Insects snapped in the trees and the perfumed air. Somewhere a radio played in
a back yard. A child dressed in a faded yellow skirt and pink T-shirt came
banging out of the house next door, grabbed a tricycle and buzzed around on it.
Hi, Mr Vernon! she called.

Vernon waved. Hi, Holly.

Holly disappeared around the side of
the house to the back yard. I thought only leathery old retirees lived up
here, Ludmilla murmured.

Vernon noted the hint of teasing,
mostly because it was so rare. I represent that remark!

She smiled gloriously, just as a
small red car crept into view on Bluff Road. A Citroen diesel, a costly, pert
little thing. Ludmilla Wishart groaned and swayed. Alarmed, Vernon placed his
arm around her. Mill?

She recovered. Its nothing.

His arm was still supporting her.
She shrugged it off and put some distance between them while the Citroen seemed
to speed up a little, as though it knew where it was going now. It swept into
the kerb, tyres scratching up dust, and a man got out. He was about thirty,
wearing a white cotton shirt over dark blue cargo pants and deck shoes. His
face as he came storming up to Carls verandah was in a rictus of fury, waves
of strong emotion rolling off him, barely contained.

Ludmilla, he said, and Carl
thought how apt was the phrase through gritted teeth.

Please, Adrian, Ludmilla said.

The guy turned to Carl, switched on
a big smile and shot out his hand. And you are?

Vernon hadnt been a teacher for
nothing. No, the question is: And
you
are?

Mr Vernon, Ludmilla said
tonelessly, this is my husband, Adrian. Darling, Mr Vernon is behind the
campaign to save that old fishermans cottage I was telling you about.

She pointed. Adrian Wishart glanced
across at Somerland without interest and back again, sizing up Vernon. Is that
a fact.

I just came to let Mr Vernon know
that its been classified by the National Trust.

You drove all the way here to tell
him? Wishart said, still with that huge smile, using a reasonable voice. Could
have phoned.

Ludmilla went white and small. I
mustnt keep you any longer, Mr Vernon.

Vernon watched husband and wife
leave his front yard, one flinching, the other as stiff and twisted as steel
cable. He heard Ludmilla say, Please, Ade, you mustnt follow me, not when Im
working.

You think I followed you, darling?
Certainly not. I have a client to see in the next street.

Well, no one believed
that,
under
the blue canopy of the sky.

* * * *

10

Its
nothing to do with me, Scobie Sutton said.

Nothing to do with you? Scobie,
thats your e-mail addressyour
official police
e-mail address, Challis
said, stabbing the printout with his forefinger.

Nothing to do with me.

Sutton was like a sulky adolescent
on the other side of Challiss desk, his bony limbs lost in the folds of his
dark jacket and trousers. He wouldnt meet Challiss eye.

You were the recipient of a racist
e-mail. What if the press gets hold of this? What if Ethical Standards takes a
long, hard look at you?

Nothing to do with me.

Challis had also printed out the
many pages of Dirk Roes blog. He arranged them side by side where Sutton could
read them. Your little pal is also responsible for
this
crap.

Boss, pleaded Sutton, finally
looking up, I dont sympathise with this stuff, honestly I dont.

Then how did the guy get your
e-mail address?

Suttons gaze slid away. Beth, he
said desolately.

Your wife? Id have thought shed
be the last

Shes been unhappy, said Sutton in
a rush. He paused, searching for the words, flinching a little as a couple of
officers passed by in the corridor, laughing about something. It hasnt been
easy for her, he continued. When she lost her job it really threw her. Shes
been out of work for ages and.. .Shes depressed, boss.

Challis folded his arms, grim in
face and posture, inviting Sutton to get on with it.

Sutton complied hastily.
Very
depressed.
Thinks the world is a bad place and getting worse, only no one is listening to
her. She feels very alone. You can imagine how that makes
me
feel.

He waited for acknowledgment but
Challis merely stared. He swallowed. She wont talk to me about it. Wont talk
to our minister, either, or friends or family. In fact, she stopped going to
our church and she doesnt have anything to do with any of the old crowd.

Challis regarded him carefully.
Sutton was a decent man, a churchgoer of the family-values kind. In Challiss
experience, people like that were hesitant to extend their decency in certain
directions. Towards gays, for example, or Muslims. Still, some sympathy was
due. I take it that Beth found someone who would listen? Challis said.

Suttons face lit up. Exactly!

Dirk Roe? Challis said doubtfully.
He gestured over the array of printouts. The guys a moron.

Not DirkLachlan, the one who was
attacked. He can be quite compelling.

I dont understand. Hes a school
chaplain.

Sutton squirmed. Hes a bit more
than that.

Im listening.

Well, Dirk and Lachlan were brought
up in one of those big fundamentalist churches, the kind where you smile and
clap hands for Jesus.

Challis knew the kind. One of the
smaller outfitsonly 40,000 of them worldwide, and half of that number in
Australialiked to bankroll the election campaigns of conservative politicians
and attack left leaning or green candidates. They were against voting, reading
novels, wearing short pants, attending football matches, letting their kids go
to university. Opposed to contraception, mobile phones and computers. Sad
crackpots, he thought, but surprisingly powerful. Challis recalled dimly that
Ollie Hindmarsh was one politician who gave an ear to those nuts. Sutton
continued: Dirk drifted, but Lachlan grew even more devout and narrow and a
couple of years ago he broke away to form his own congregation. The First
Ascensionists, theyre called.

And Beth has joined them?

Yes, said Sutton with a strangled
wail.

How big are they?

Not very.

What do they believe in?

Sutton shook his head in distress
and bewilderment. Theyre very strict about a whole range of things, as youd
expect. They believe that you can avoid sin by avoiding non-believers, and thats
why Beth avoids
me.
Also Lachlan has convinced everyone hes the direct
spiritual descendant of Saint Paul and the only route to salvation. I am the
vessel, thats what he told me. He says that God will lift true Christians out
of the world in a rapture. The rest will suffer a period of intense
tribulation, then Christ will return to Jerusalem and rule for a thousand years
before a final apocalyptic battle with evil.

Challis felt his eyes glaze over.
People believed this bullshit, it mattered to them. It mattered enough for
cynical politicians to get close to people who spouted it.

So youve talked to this bozo.

Sutton tensed in his chair and said,
I tried to talk to him about Beth.

Challis went cold. Where were you
last night, Scobie?

Sutton jumped. At home with Roslyn.

His twelve-year-old daughter. Where
was your wife?

At the Chillout Zone, handing
pamphlets to schoolies.

Challis guessed that these alibis
could be verified pretty easily. Meanwhile he was starting to wonder how many
other Scobie Suttons were out there, men and women who had the inclination to
harm Lachlan Roe for taking away their loved ones. Scobie, Ill ask again, did
you assault him?

Sutton was so appalled that Challis
believed it. Me? How could you say that? How could you even think it?

All right, settle down. But you did
try to talk to him about your wife. When was that?

A few weeks ago.

So Roes a preacher, but how the
hell did he become school chaplain at a place like Landseer?

Sutton shrugged. The Ascensionists
are pretty low profile. And respectabledoctors, teachers, local business
people...

How does Dirk fit into all this?

Hes less fanatical than Lachlan,
but they
are
brothers, Sutton said.

That wasnt what Challis meant. Maybe
it suits these people for Lachlan to be based at that school, and Dirk in Ollie
Hindmarshs electoral office.

Scobie Sutton looked all at sea. His
take on the situation was small, personal and domestic, and here was his boss
floating a conspiracy theory. Dont know, boss, he muttered.

Challis jack-knifed forward. All
right. So what are they doing with your e-mail address?

Its Beth. Shes trying to get me
to come across to the Ascensionists, and so now I keep getting all these awful
e-mails.

Challis shook his head slowly. Mate,
youre in a pickle.

Scobie Sutton began to weep. Im at
my wits end.

What I dont understand is why you
called Dirk to the scene this morning.

Scobie was mildly astonished. But
his brother was hurt. Naturally hed want to help him.

Challis breathed in and out. God
save him from good people. Scobie, I hope you can see that I cant have you
working this case. Your judgment is shot, and youre a potential suspect.

Boss, please.

Weve plenty of other cases that
need attention.

Yeah, right, a serious spate of
ride-on mower theft.

Constable, Challis barked.

Sir. But sir, cant I continue the
doorknock, work on the periphery?

No. I cant rely on you to be
neutral and alert. And cancel that e-mail address, get yourself another one.

Boss, said Sutton miserably.

What happens to the congregation if
Lachlan dies?

Scobie blinked and said Dont know,
but his gaze also flickered, indicating that hed thought about it. Challis
read his mind. Scobie hoped that Lachlan would die so that the Ascensionists
would fall apart and hed get his wife back. He felt guilty about that
desirebut not too guilty.

I mean it, Scobie. You stay out of
this.

Boss.

* * * *

By
now it was noon. Challis called Ellen Destry at the Landseer School and told
her about finding the White Pride e-mail and Dirk Roes blog. Couple of
sweethearts, the Roe brothers, he said.

That concurs with what Im finding
here, Ellen replied. Im still interviewing but the feedbacks pretty
consistent: Lachlan Roe was loathed by pretty much everyone. The kids who
did
go
to see him said he didnt give guidance or advice, just made them get
down on their knees and pray for forgivenesswhen he wasnt making sexual
innuendoes, that is. The staff are convinced he was hired to please Ollie
Hindmarsh. Do you think Hindmarsh knows what the guy was like?

I guess well find out soon enough.
Briefing in the pub at six oclock?

Count me in.

Challis mused for a while on the
notion of blogs, Dirk Roes in particular. What had happened to privacy?
Dignity, restraintnone of that had meaning to the cyberspace generation.
Anyone could run a blog, every half-baked, boring or vicious thought, feeling
or grievance out there for all to see. Maybe you dont feel the normal human
restraints of self-consciousness and embarrassment sitting alone at a keyboard
in a dark corner. Maybe it all seems instantaneous, ephemeral. But their words
could come back to bite them and anyone associated with them.

Like Ollie Hindmarsh, thought
Challis with a grin.

He checked with the hospital, learned
that Dirk was still at his brothers bedside, and headed there in his rattly
Triumph.

No change?

None, said Dirk, sounding like a
man oddly pleased to find himself at centre stage for a while.

Challis decided to wipe the smug
look from the young mans face. This material, he said, originating from
you, was found on your brothers computer.

One by one he dropped the printouts
into Roes lap. Roe grew panicky, first recoiling as if hed been soiled, then
scrunching the pages together.

Go ahead, Challis said, Ive made
copies.