The Betrayal (8 page)

“It’s this case I’m working on. The one involving Declan Munro. It’s…complicated.”

Webber pushed away from his desk and closed the short distance between them. “How so?”

Chloe’s shoulders slumped. “He’s an exemplary officer. Everyone I talk to sings his praises, even his superiors. He’s been in the game for more than a decade and there’s not even a hint that something might be amiss. He’s sinfully good looking and has the charm of the boy next door. I spoke to some of his female colleagues. Nobody had a bad word to say about him. The only thing I will say is I couldn’t find a woman in his office that he’d dated. Not that it means he’s a pedophile,” she hastened to add. “There could be any number of reasons why he doesn’t date his coworkers.”

“I know a certain young woman who’s never gone out with a man from her office,” Webber teased, the crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling with humor.

Her lips turned up in a tiny smile. “Exactly. Refusing to date coworkers isn’t a crime in anyone’s book.” She sighed again and shook her head. “I’ve looked at the witness statements, I’ve made my own enquires, I’ve studied the hard facts, but no matter how I consider it, when looked at as a whole, it doesn’t fit.”

Webber propped a hip against her desk and shrugged. “Evil comes in all guises, Chloe. It’s often the ones who least look the part that are the most dangerous. Believe me, even I’ve been caught out.”

Chloe grimaced, recalling another man who’d duped her with his easy charm. It had been a decade and a half ago, but she could still remember like it was yesterday—
and
she couldn’t forget her solemn vow never to be taken in by a Colgate smile again.

Determination surged through her. There had to be something on Declan Munro that she hadn’t found, something that explained his penchant for child pornography.

With a nod of thanks in Webber’s direction, Chloe straightened in her chair and reached for her keyboard. Within moments, she’d accessed the New South Wales Police database. A few keystrokes later and she’d found what she was looking for: Declan Munro’s State Police file.

Scanning the first few pages, she digested the enviable array of recommendations and honorable mentions he’d been awarded over the course of his career as a New South Wales police officer. They were impressive; but then, she knew they would be. She’d already read his AFP file.

His initial application to the AFP had included references from his State colleagues and commanding officers, as well as mandatory background checks. Everything had come back clear, which was no more than she expected—he’d been accepted into their ranks, after all.

Tabbing through the various entries on the screen in front of her, a small heading caught her eye. Clicking open the file, she discovered a report from five years ago that involved a complaint against one Declan Andrew Munro.

She scanned the contents. Uneasiness morphed into shock. Discovering the proof she’d been seeking should have filled her with elation, but instead she felt nothing but coldness and an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

The phone at her elbow rang. With her eyes still focused on the screen in front of her, she answered it.

The IT expert on the other end didn’t mince words. The laptop confiscated from Declan Munro’s apartment during the execution of the search warrant had been forensically examined. More than a hundred deleted images of child pornography had been found on the hard drive.

Chloe’s shock of only moments ago congealed into icy anger. She couldn’t believe that even for an instant, he had taken her in. It just went to show, as far as her instincts went, that lately she couldn’t be more off kilter.

Reaching for the phone again, she punched in the number for Munro’s lawyer.

* * *

Declan pulled into a parking lot within walking distance of the AFP headquarters. It was just after lunch in the middle of the working week and the car park was nearly full. Despite the fact he was on a motorbike, he rode through several levels before he eventually found a vacant spot.

As he made his way into the building which housed Senior Investigator Sabattini, he wiped his damp palms on his suit pants and tried desperately to hide his nerves.

He hated feeling this way. He hated that his life had spiraled so far out of control that he no longer recognized it as his own. He hated the fear and uncertainty that stared back at him in the bathroom mirror. But mostly, he hated the feeling of hopelessness that enveloped him every time he thought of the charges that had been brought against him and the nameless, faceless witness who had instigated all this.

The telephone call from his barrister had taken him by surprise. Apart from his family, calls to his cell phone had been few and far between. He hadn’t even heard from Charlie for over a week. Busy at work, Declan assumed, wishing he could make the same complaint.

In accordance with the timetable set down by the court, the prosecution had two more days before the brief had to be served, so it was unlikely Roger was calling about the contents of that.

After the briefest of greetings and an exchange of even briefer preliminaries, Roger had gotten straight to the point: Senior Investigator Sabattini wanted to speak with him and she’d requested the presence of his lawyer.

Declan refused to get his hopes up that the nightmare of the last few weeks could soon be over. Surely, that was the reason for the summons? Why else would she contact his lawyer and order both of them to her office without delay?

Declan entered the elevator, grateful to find it empty. Punching in the number of the floor that housed the IA offices, he moved toward the back and waited for the doors to close. In less than a minute, he was transported to the fifth floor.

The sleek, silver doors slid open and he stepped into the hall, his footsteps muffled by the light gray-and-navy colored carpet that lined its length.

The nerves he’d managed to suppress returned in full force and he swallowed with a throat that was suddenly sandpit dry. The sight of his lawyer waiting for him outside the interview room helped only slightly to ease his tension.

“Roger, thanks for coming at such short notice.”

The barrister held out his hand and Declan shook it. “That’s what you’re paying me for, son.”

“Yes, well, even so, I appreciate it.” Declan angled his head in the direction of the closed door. “Do you have any idea what this is all about?”

Roger shook his head, his expression grim. “I couldn’t get anything out of her, which makes me nervous.”

“So, you don’t think she’s called us here to tell us she’s dropping the case?”

Roger’s lips compressed. “There’s nothing that would please me more, Declan, but unfortunately, experience tells me something different.”

The lawyer noticed Declan’s disappointment and stepped forward to give him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, son, but I’m not going to bullshit you. If this was good news, I’m sure it would have been relayed over the telephone. Chloe Sabattini knows I’ve had to drop everything and hop a plane from Sydney to be here. I wish I could give you more hope, but you’re not paying me for fairy tales.”

Roger looked uncomfortable, but Declan barely noticed. His thoughts had snagged on one word:
Chloe
.

So, that was her name.

Chloe
. Somehow, it suited her.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the interview room swung open and he was treated to another close-up of Senior Investigator Chloe Sabattini.

She greeted both of them with a firm handshake, her expression unreadable.

“Mr White, Agent Munro. Thanks for coming.” She turned and moved across the room to check the video recorder on the shelf in the corner. Declan’s gaze shifted around the stark interview room.

The only difference he could ascertain since his last visit was a second plastic chair had been added, he guessed in deference to his barrister. Seemingly satisfied with the status of the video machine, Chloe indicated the seats with a wave of her hand and then made her way around the standard-issue laminate desk.

Declan busied himself with taking a seat and did his best not to notice how well her knee-length, tailored, navy skirt cupped the curve of her rounded butt or how her pale yellow blouse set off the golden tones of her skin. When she took the only remaining chair, he averted his gaze, but not before he caught an enticing glimpse of shadowed cleavage.

Christ, what was wrong with him?
This woman held his life in her hands. Surely, he could lift his thoughts above his navel and concentrate his efforts on convincing her of his innocence?

Opening up the file in front of her, she appeared not to notice his preoccupation. Declan drew in a deep breath and eased it out, willing himself to relax.

“Senior Inspector Sabattini, both Agent Munro and I are keen to find out what this is all about. We have yet to receive the Brief of Evidence from you. As far as we know, your number one witness could be little more than a figment of your imagination. Agent Munro’s life is on hold. We would appreciate it if you would be direct.”

The woman held White’s gaze for a moment and then her gaze flicked to Declan. He caught his breath at the anger that sparkled in their dark depths.

“I can do direct,” she said, her gaze still drilling his. She addressed him, despite the fact his barrister had opened the conversation.

“For a start,” she continued, her eyes sparking fire, “the brief’s not due for another two days, as I’m sure you very well know.” Her gaze narrowed and her eyes turned hard. “Secondly, why didn’t you tell me about Meg Harvey?”

Shock ricocheted through each and every one of Declan’s nerve endings. Roger turned in his seat to face him, a question in his eyes. Declan felt the weight of his barrister’s stare.

Declan’s gut churned with dread. “What the hell does Meg have to do with all of this?”

The expression on the investigator’s face didn’t change. “You’ve been charged with unauthorized access to secure police files, files that contained pornographic pictures of children. You can’t possibly expect me to believe you didn’t think the fact that a woman who complained about you improperly touching her four-year-old daughter would be relevant?”

Her voice had risen, along with her anger. Color crept up her neck and spilled over into her face. Declan glanced at his lawyer, who had paled beneath his tan. With admirable brevity, White regained his wits.

“Don’t answer that, Declan. In fact, I suggest you say nothing further until after we’ve discussed the matter at length.” He turned and shot an intimidating look toward the woman who sat across from them. “In private.”

Chloe’s lips thinned, but she gathered her file and pushed away from the table.

“Wait,” Declan said. “I want to answer.”

Roger reached out to him as if to stop him. “Declan, we need to talk. Don’t say anything until we’ve had a chance to—”

“No,” Declan interrupted, shaking off his lawyer’s cautionary hand. “I have nothing to hide. I didn’t touch Meg Harvey’s daughter and I didn’t access files containing kiddie porn.”

He turned away, sickened by the thought.

Chloe slowly regained her seat. She eyeballed him, her gaze steady.

“Are you sure you want to continue?”

“Yes.”

Roger opened his mouth to protest again, but Declan shook his head.

“Roger, it’s fine. Like I said, I have nothing to hide.” He turned back to Chloe. “Ask your questions.”

The barrister crossed his arms and made a sound of disgruntlement. “For the record, I’d like it to be clear you are doing this against my advice. I will not be held accountable for what this may or may not cost you.”

The barrister’s words and his somber demeanor gave Declan pause. The man was the best criminal defense lawyer in the country. He knew what he was talking about. But to leave the allegations hanging without a word of explanation was something Declan was simply not prepared to do. He was innocent. He had to make her see.

He offered White a brief nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you for your advice, Roger. I appreciate you being here, but I would like to answer Senior Investigator Sabattini’s questions. I’ve already told you, I have nothing to hide.”

White studied him closely and seemed comforted by what he saw in Declan’s eyes.

“As you wish,” he murmured.

Declan drew in a deep breath and steeled himself for Chloe’s questions. He met her gaze without flinching.

She stared back at him. “Tell me about Meg Harvey.”

CHAPTER 7

Chloe stifled a surge of surprise when Declan agreed to be interviewed. She’d been sure he’d lawyer up and refuse to answer any of her questions, especially given the sensitive nature of this development.

But he hadn’t. In fact, he’d even gone against the advice of his barrister to answer her. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration and she wouldn’t deny his cooperation had pushed the balance ever so slightly back in his favor.

She hadn’t been required to allow him the opportunity to explain himself, but despite the damning evidence she’d discovered in his State Police file, something about the inconsistencies in the case that were still keeping her sleepless had prodded her into offering him the chance.

She eyed him closely, eager to note every miniscule expression. His voice was low and without inflection when he spoke.

“Meg Harvey and I dated for nearly a year. She was the daughter of a wealthy South African businessman. I was introduced to her through mutual friends at a charity function in Sydney. She was about my age, single, blond and beautiful. We hit it off straight away.”

Chloe swallowed the twinge of jealousy that went through her at his words. It was the second time she’d heard him mentioned in reference to a blonde.
Did he have a type?
Did he prefer blondes over brunettes? She hated that she’d even thought that and hated it even more that she cared even a little bit about the answer. She cleared her throat in annoyance.

“When did you meet her daughter?”

Declan ran a hand through his hair. Chloe watched the movement of his fingers, knowing that he was completely unaware of the effect his looks had on others. Even messy hair couldn’t detract from them.