The Holiday Murders (15 page)

‘I’ve never been to Daylesford. The 29th? Yes, I can manage that, and I know how to organise a priority rail pass — it’s called money.’

Magill nodded. ‘The war makes black marketeers out of all of us, doesn’t it?’

Magill said that he’d meet Joe at the railway station in Daylesford, and that they’d walk to Sailor’s Hill. He didn’t like to drive around the town. Most people wouldn’t give it a second thought, but there was always one busybody who’d tut-tut about the petrol ration.

‘And we don’t want bored country coppers sniffing around Candlebark Hill.’ He narrowed his eyes at Joe. ‘There is one thing you need to know about our little group, and I hope it doesn’t put you off.’ He paused. ‘Do you know what a naturist is, Joe?’

Peggy Montford giggled.

‘I believe it’s someone who likes to walk around naked,’ Joe said.

‘It’s more than that, Joe — much more. When you come to Candlebark Hill, you’ll understand. You’re under no obligation to join us. Not everyone is comfortable taking their clothes off; but once you understand the philosophy, you might dip your toe in the water, as it were.’

‘I’m not sure about that, Mitchell.’

Magill moved quickly to reassure him.

‘Like I said, no obligation. We don’t want to scare you off before you’ve got to know us.’

‘Everyone gets about in the nude, is that right?’

‘Yes, but it’s not about that. I think I’ve startled you. Can I try to explain it to you?’

‘You can try. I can’t promise you’ll succeed.’

‘Our culture is hopelessly muddled about the body. The churches have made us all ashamed of what are, in fact, the greatest expressions of Nature’s genius — our bodies. The Germans were onto this way back in the Twenties. The body is an expression of national consciousness. It’s an expression of health and purity. Nudism is therapeutic, Joe, not erotic, and our response to it is never prurient.’

Joe didn’t have to try hard to look sceptical.

‘This stuff doesn’t go on in Germany now, surely.’

Magill looked annoyed.

‘It’s not “stuff”, Joe, and I say again, it’s not compulsory. As for Germany, Goering put an end to the movement — but he would, wouldn’t he? He doesn’t like thin people. It’s different there, anyway. The movement was infiltrated by communists and degenerates who wanted to commercialise it. I know for a fact that Hitler isn’t against our movement in principle. He’s said, and I quote, Joe, “If German consciousness wants nudism, it shall have it again, but on the clean foundation on which it was started.” What do you think of that?’

‘I think I’ll keep my clothes on, if that’s all right.’

‘Perfectly fine.’ Magill smiled. ‘We have that clean foundation at Candlebark Hill, Joe, and I think we can change your mind.’

Joe shrugged gently.

‘I’m intrigued, Mitchell. I’ll give you that.’

When Joe returned
to Homicide, the office was empty, but he’d only been there a few minutes when Inspector Lambert and Constable Lord returned from the Windsor Hotel.

‘I’m glad you’re here, Sergeant,’ Titus said. ‘I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to get hold of you. There’s no easy way to say this: Sheila Draper has been murdered, and probably raped. I’m supposing that to be the case — we won’t know for sure until the autopsy.’

Joe sat down heavily. Helen Lord knew genuine shock when she saw it, and Joe Sable’s ashen face was evidence of it. He must have got close to Sheila Draper to react like this. Titus hadn’t expected this response, which was why he’d announced Draper’s death so baldly.

Joe was suddenly aware that he was being stared at.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Sheila Draper was just such a decent person.’

‘Whoever killed her wasn’t impressed by her decency, although destroying it probably gave him pleasure.’

Titus told Joe all that he knew about Draper’s death. He did so with Constable Lord present; she had been briefed on the Quinn murders, and was now, as far as Titus was concerned, a part of his investigative team. It was clear to Joe that she’d been made privy to the line of investigation involving Military Intelligence, and to his own role in it. She could not, of course, be effective without this knowledge, but Joe was surprised by what he took to be Inspector Lambert’s lack of discretion. Chafer and Goad would be livid if they knew that Titus had trusted someone not vetted by them with highly sensitive information. Joe knew that Titus would do whatever he needed to do to solve these crimes, and he would do it without checking with Intelligence first.

Titus opened the drawer of a filing cabinet and took out a file. It contained his notes, photographs, and interview transcripts. He handed the file to Constable Lord.

‘Read these carefully,’ he said. ‘Use Sergeant Sable’s desk. You might find something we’ve missed. Sergeant, I need to talk to you in my office.’

When Titus closed the door, he expressed his surprise at the intensity of Joe’s reaction to the news of Sheila Draper’s murder. Joe reassured him that there’d been nothing inappropriate in his dealings with her. He admired her approach to life, that was all, and she’d struck him as a nice person. But he couldn’t keep the rising anger out of his voice in response to Titus’s suspicions that he’d allowed personal feelings to interfere with his judgement.

Titus addressed him coolly.

‘I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m concerned about your reaction to Miss Draper’s death, and you can be offended by that all you like. I can see that this murder has rattled you, but I don’t expect you to be petulant when I ask you about your state of mind. What I expect is honesty. I need to know that you’re self-aware enough to recognise danger signs.’

Joe felt himself calming down, his anger quickly replaced by mortification.

‘Well?’ Titus’s voice was sharp with impatience now.

‘Yes, sir. I understand what you’re saying, and you’re right.’

‘If I seem a bit short, Sergeant, it’s because I’m frustrated by Intelligence snaffling you on the back of these killings. I don’t believe that Sheila Draper’s murder was politically motivated, but I
do
believe that the person who killed the Quinns killed her. It follows that I’m not at all convinced that the Quinn murders were politically motivated, either. Meanwhile, I’m one member down, and Intelligence is one up.’

Joe realised he needed to bring Titus up to date on his progress.

‘I met Mitchell Magill this afternoon,’ he said, ‘and he doesn’t strike me as the murderous type — although his politics might leave room for people who are.’

‘That was quick work.’

‘Constable Lord was a great help.’

‘Constable Lord is wasted doing paperwork for officers who are far less capable than she is. She’s got great instincts, and she’s sharp.’

‘I think it would take a lot to rattle her.’

‘I hope that wasn’t self-pity, Sergeant.’

‘You don’t let much through to the keeper, do you, sir?’

‘You’re inexperienced, not naïve. You’re a good policeman and you’ll get better, and my wife likes you. She’s never wrong.’

The tension between them eased, and Joe’s confidence ebbed back.

‘I can see why Intelligence is investigating Magill and his cronies,’ he said. ‘And I agree that their connection to the killings is tenuous. The fact that John Quinn was tracking them has to be coincidental. I’ll have a better idea on that the day after tomorrow. Magill’s got a place near Daylesford, and they’re having a Party gathering there. They’re calling themselves Australian Patriots now.’

Titus sighed. ‘I always run a mile from anyone who calls himself a patriot,’ he said. ‘Those sorts of people always ruin dinner parties.’

‘I’m going up there, sir. I’m assuming Chafer or Goad can organise priority travel for me.’

‘What’s your gut sense of Magill?’

‘I think he’s careless. The only credentials I needed to get an invitation were a few nasty epithets about Jews. Magill’s Nazism is a kind of parlour game – a hobby for a bored, rich man. I think he’s silly.’

‘Silly? That’s an odd word.’

‘They go to this place called Candlebark Hill, and the first thing they do is take their clothes off. They’re naturists, which might explain Quinn’s stack of magazines. Mitchell was at pains to assure me that their naturism is a crucial part of their political philosophy. Naked fascism — you can see how silly that is. He’s got it all worked out, chapter and verse.’

‘And you’re going to join in, are you, Sergeant?’

‘For king and country, as they would say, although I haven’t decided yet.’ Joe hesitated. ‘There is one thing I’m a bit concerned about, sir. It’s … it’s personal.’

‘Go on.’

‘I did a good job this afternoon airing my anti-Semitism. It had a positive effect on Magill, I can tell you — his face lit up. The problem is, of course, that I’m Jewish, and when I strip off — if I strip off — well, they’re going to know that, if you see what I mean.’

‘I wouldn’t worry, if I were you. I think you’ll find that circumcision isn’t confined to your religion in this country. It’s been pretty much standard practice in hospitals for a couple of generations. I’d be surprised if any of the men there have a foreskin.’

There was a gentle knock at the door that Titus failed to hear — which was why, just as Constable Lord opened it, he said, ‘Your penis won’t betray you.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ll come back.’

Joe’s tendency to blush easily drove a deep flush into his face. Titus, however, was far less prone to being flustered. He’d become so used to discussing even the most disturbing aspects of cases with Maude that the fact of Constable Lord overhearing his remark was of no consequence to him whatsoever. It was of no consequence to Helen Lord either; it was amusing only because Sergeant Sable looked as if blood might start pouring from his ears. She handed the file to Titus.

‘Would it be possible for me to see the Quinn house, sir?’

‘You’re a step ahead of me, Constable. I was just about to ask Sergeant Sable to take you there now. I should warn you that your redeployment to my staff has ruffled a few feathers. You understand that it’s temporary?’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘There are people above me who think that Homicide is no place for a woman. I don’t happen to agree with them.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

It was still
light when Joe and Helen pulled up at the Quinn house. A policeman was posted at the door, although there was no one inside. The house had been gone over, and analysis of evidence had begun at Russell Street.

In the car on the way to the house, Helen had asked Joe about the dressing-down he’d been given. He hadn’t found the question inappropriate, despite the difference in their ranks. There was something about Helen that made her rank irrelevant, and Joe knew anyway that no rank above constable was available to her. ‘It was a gentle dressing-down,’ he’d said. ‘Or, at least, it could have been much worse. I think I irritate him. He keeps catching me saying the wrong thing. He makes me feel incompetent around him, and he’s not one of those people who do that deliberately.’

‘I don’t know him as well you do, but he’s not like the other coppers at Russell Street. I thought he was, but he’s different. You must be relieved by his comment that your penis won’t betray you. What on earth was he talking about?’

Joe had been caught completely off guard by this, and was simply unable to respond for a moment.

‘That, Constable Lord, is an inappropriate question.’

‘Oh, don’t be so buttoned down.’

‘Inappropriate,’ Joe repeated. Helen Lord was watching his profile, and there’d been an incipient but definite smile lurking there.

Joe took Helen through the rooms of the Quinn house. In the front room, where Xavier had been nailed to the floor, she stood where his feet would have been, and from that position surveyed the room. She then moved to where his head would have been, and looked around her from that position. The room still smelled bad because the blood hadn’t yet been cleaned away, and there was enough of it to give off a foul odour. It was the same upstairs, in the bathroom.

‘The photographer,’ she said. ‘He’s very good at his job, isn’t he?’

‘Martin Serong? Inspector Lambert says he’s the best.’

‘Can we go to Sheila Draper’s house now?’

‘Of course.’

‘This isn’t going to be easy for you, is it?’

‘Frankly, no.’

‘This is why I joined the police force, Sergeant. We can catch the creature who did these things.’

‘Aren’t you overstepping the mark a little, Constable?’

‘I’ve waited for five years for an opportunity to do something like this. I’m sick to death of tugging my forelock at people — men — who confuse rank with intelligence and ability. I can’t be bothered playing the humble constable for you. I’m good at my job. I’m at least as good as you are — probably better, Sergeant.’

Helen Lord’s expression was fierce. Joe couldn’t figure out what he’d said to ignite her anger.

‘Was it something I said?’

‘Nothing specific.’ She was in control again. ‘You think I’m a novelty. You don’t understand why Inspector Lambert has chosen me to replace you — temporarily, of course. You’re a little bit peeved that he thinks a woman can do your job, but you’d never say so. You have very nice manners.’