Violent Exposure (28 page)

‘Three,’ Ella said.

‘One’s Suzanne’s. One matches the DNA from the saliva on the beer can, so may be Connor’s. The third is unknown.’

‘Run a comparison to Emil,’ Ella said. ‘Look at him
for that print on the back door too. He’s got bloodstains on his shirt as well – that could be Suzanne’s.’

‘Both Gus Bielecki and Gary Saxby told us Emil had said he was going to try to talk to the girl he liked, persuade her he was the one,’ Dennis said.

‘So he goes around there, gets in a fight with Connor, Suzanne is killed and Connor kidnaps him,’ Steve Mitchell said.

‘Or maybe Emil kidnapped
Connor,’ Katzen said.

‘And what? Connor turned the tables and manages to kill him? Where is he now then?’ Hepburn said.

‘It’s just one more question to answer,’ Murphy said.

Dennis said, ‘Any news on the hospital warrant?’

‘Hoping to get it today,’ Detective Steve Mitchell said. ‘I’ve spoken to the Crawfords’ neighbour Tanya Pigeon again but she still can’t be clearer on the date. But it just
means extra files to wade through, more time spent finding the guy.’

Ella’s mobile rang. She recognised William Sheppard’s number. ‘Excuse me.’

In the corridor she answered. ‘How are you today?’

The line was silent. ‘Mr Sheppard?’

He blew his nose. ‘Suzanne came to me in a dream.’

Ella cradled the phone to her ear and leaned against the wall.

‘She was about eighteen, just beautiful. Looking
like all her life was still ahead of her.’ He blew his nose again. ‘She told me that you’re going in the right direction.’

‘Thank you.’

‘She said that Lydia will be okay too, and when I came into the hospital the doctors said the same thing.’

‘That’s great news.’

‘And she said your dad’s going to be fine as well.’

‘What?’

‘She said your dad will be all right.’

Ella stared out the window,
goose bumps raising the hairs on her arms.

‘She said it will be hard but it will be okay.’

Tears blurred Ella’s vision.

‘The doctor’s here, I have to go,’ he said. ‘Find him for us.’

‘I will,’ she managed to get out, then he was gone.

She stood still for a moment then dialled her parents’ house. No answer. Same on the mobile. She held her voice to a polite level. ‘Just me. Give me a call
when you can. Please.’

The door behind her opened and detectives flooded the corridor. Dennis came up to her. ‘There’s – you okay?’

‘Tell you later.’ Work would save her. ‘Let’s go.’

Angie Crane was peering into a filing cabinet when they tapped on the door. ‘Oh.’ She slammed the drawer. ‘You’re back.’

‘How are you?’ Ella said.

‘I’m not calling anyone for you again.’ Angie stalked to the
desk and sat. ‘I’m sorry, but that was just wrong.’

‘Angie.’ Ella softened her voice. ‘We think we found Emil.’

Angie didn’t seem to pick up on her tone. ‘Oh, good. Where was he? Back at work, I hope.’

‘Unfortunately not.’ Ella thought her hesitation would alert Angie but the woman kept watching her with hopeful eyes. ‘We’re sorry to have to tell you that he’s dead.’

‘What?’

‘His body was
found in a skip bin this morning,’ Ella said. ‘We’re very sorry.’

‘That can’t be right,’ Angie said. ‘And how can you be sure it’s him?’

‘A paramedic who knows him said she recognised him.’

‘Carly,’ Angie said. ‘But was she sure?’

‘That brings me to my next point,’ Ella said. ‘Before we approach his mother we’d like to be certain ourselves. Would you . . . ?’

‘Of course.’ She grabbed her
bag. ‘I think you’re wrong. I think Emil’s out there alive and well.’

Ella said, ‘I hope you’re right.’

Angie looked at the body in the morgue and started to cry. ‘It’s him.’

‘We’re sorry,’ Ella said.

‘It’s not fair.’ She fumbled in her bag and pulled out a tissue. ‘He was just getting his life together.’

Ella nodded.

‘How did he die?’

‘They’re not sure yet.’

‘Look at him. He’s so young.
He looks like an angel.’

He looked like a dead man to Ella, but she squeezed Angie’s arm.

‘When will you tell his mother?’ Angie asked.

‘Next.’

Angie lifted a lock of hair off Emil’s forehead. ‘Such a waste.’

Ella said, ‘You understand now why we want to talk to Brooke.’

Angie wiped at her tears and nodded. ‘I’ll call her again.’

‘Please let us know the second she turns up.’

M
ick sat in the passenger seat and watched Carly drive with her elbow on the sill and her head in her hand against the glass. She’d taken back the driver’s seat when they’d done a medical transfer after finding Emil’s body, and had hardly said a word since. It was good really, because she seemed to have forgotten about Aidan and Rozelle. But she could always bring it up again later.

He was worried about her too. She usually bounced back quickly.

‘It’s hard when you know them,’ he said.

She seemed to wake, and glanced across at him. ‘I’m okay.’

‘You seem really down.’

‘I’m just thinking about stuff.’

‘You can go home. Everyone would understand.’

‘I’m all right.’ She put on her indicator and pulled into a right-turn lane.

Mick frowned out the windscreen. ‘St Luke’s is
that way.’

‘I feel like a drive.’

They were due to collect a patient for routine transfer so there was no urgency. ‘Where to?’

‘Around.’

They joined the traffic creeping into Darlinghurst. Carly was upright now, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other tapping a fast rhythm on the sill. Mick could see her watching everywhere – cars around them, pedestrians on the footpath on both sides
of the street, even checking the mirrors as if she thought she might’ve missed something.

She glanced over and seemed surprised that he was watching her. ‘Any news on Sophie?’ she said.

‘I talked to Chris last night. He said Sophie’s feeling more hopeful the longer the jury stays out –’

Carly suddenly jerked the wheel and screeched into a bus zone. Mick looked for a person collapsed but saw
nothing. ‘What’s wrong?’

But Carly was already out of the driver’s seat and running around the front of the truck to the footpath where she grabbed a teenaged girl by the arm. The girl tried to jerk free but Carly yanked her closer and barked something into her face. People stared and Mick fumbled with his seatbelt in his haste to get out.

When he reached them, Carly’s fingers were digging into
the girl’s flesh and the girl was almost cowering.

‘Hey,’ he said.

Carly didn’t seem to hear. ‘You know something,’ she snapped at the girl.

‘I don’t, I swear I don’t.’

‘Carls,’ Mick said, putting his hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension and anger there, hard as steel. ‘Let her go.’

She dragged the girl towards the ambulance.

‘Carls,’ he said. ‘Look at me.’

She kept pulling the girl
along. More people stopped to stare. He tried to smile at them, tried to look like this was just a normal part of their job and they should accept the authority his uniform gave him. ‘It’s fine, everything’s fine.’

‘I don’t know anything.’ The girl was trying to prise off Carly’s fingers. Carly yanked open the side door of the ambulance. ‘Get in.’

Mick tried to push it closed.

‘Get in!’

The
girl stumbled up the steps and Carly leapt in after her, jerking the door from Mick’s grasp and slamming it shut. He stood there feeling stupid and conspicuous, aware of people whispering. He went around to the driver’s side and got in.

‘Drive,’ Carly snapped from the back.

‘To where?’

No answer. In the mirror he could see the girl sitting on the stretcher with her face in her hands, Carly
leaning forward in the seat beside her.

Sweaty and anxious, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. Oh, this was bad. Yesterday he was a thief, now he was a kidnapper.

He couldn’t do it.

He started to pull back in. Carly was a reasonable person. She would see the craziness of this whatever-it-was if he said it enough times.

Suddenly she was at his shoulder. ‘Mick, please keep
driving.’

He looked at her in the rear-view. ‘This is really bad.’

‘I know what I’m doing,’ she said. ‘If you’ve ever cared for me as your friend, please, please, just keep driving.’

He saw the appeal in her eyes. ‘Five minutes.’

She went back to the girl.

He felt short of breath and dizzy but began a loop of Potts Point, Darlo and the Cross. He had no clue who this girl was or why Carly
needed to haul her off the street, but the memory of what Sophie had done, and the fact that she too had thought she knew what she was doing, loomed hugely, sickeningly, in his mind.

He gripped the wheel tightly and watched in the mirror as Carly sat and faced the girl.

‘Brooke,’ she said. ‘I just saw Emil’s body.’

Brooke put her hands over her ears. Carly gently removed them. ‘Somebody killed
him then threw him in the rubbish.’

Brooke shook her head.

‘It might be the same person who killed Suzanne Crawford, and you need to tell the police what you know so they can catch him.’

‘I told you, I know nothing!’

‘I don’t believe you and neither do the detectives,’ Carly said. ‘People lie to us all the time and we get good at recognising the signs.’

Mick saw the cars in front had stopped
and braked hard. ‘Sorry,’ he said in the mirror.

Neither of them looked up. Brooke hunched lower on the stretcher.

‘There’s nothing to be scared of.’

‘I’m not scared.’

‘Then what is it?’

Brooke didn’t answer.

‘The police just want the information,’ Carly said. ‘They’ll help you as much as they can.’

Brooke said something so softly that Mick couldn’t hear. Neither, apparently, could Carly.
‘Say that again?’

‘It’s not me who’ll be in trouble.’

‘Who then?’

‘He told me never to tell.’

Mick shivered at the sadness in her voice.

Carly tried to draw her close for a hug but Brooke pulled back. ‘And what if I tell and he gets busted and the information makes no difference anyway?’

‘Nobody can say until they hear what you know,’ Carly said.

Brooke frowned and looked at the floor.
Mick made a right turn to begin the loop again.

Control said, ‘Thirty-seven, you at St Luke’s yet?’

Mick reached for the mike, hoping they weren’t about to get called for an emergency. ‘Thirty-seven, couple more minutes.’

‘Thanks.’ He met Carly’s eyes in the mirror as he hung up the mike. Time was ticking.

She gripped the girl’s thin arm. ‘I cared for Emil a lot. I care for all you guys. If
that was you dead in the bin I’d be doing this to whoever else I thought knew something too.’

Mick watched Brooke swallow.

‘Please,’ Carly said.

‘Okay,’ Brooke finally said. ‘I saw Suzanne in an internet cafe about three weeks ago. She was with this blond guy and they were pretending to be apart, like they were using different computers, but I heard them talking about her husband, Connor.’

‘Did she talk to you?’

‘I don’t think she knew who I was,’ Brooke said.

‘You know which cafe it is?’

Brooke nodded.

Carly looked at her for a moment. ‘And who are you afraid is going to get in trouble?’

A car changed lanes in front of Mick and in avoiding an accident he missed Brooke’s answer. When he next looked into the mirror, Carly was on the phone, saying ‘New South Wales Police, please,’
and Brooke was hunched over once more.

*

Ella stepped up to Miranda Page’s door. The house in Annandale was tall and neat, the iron lacework on the upstairs balcony recently painted, the sandstone step under her feet newly swept. The bell was a round button on the doorframe. Dennis reached past her and pressed it.

The door opened and a small woman in her late forties looked out. ‘Not interested,
thank you.’

Ella stuck her foot into the closing gap. ‘Miranda Page? Detectives Marconi and Orchard. May we speak with you, please?’

She went pale. ‘Oh my God. Did you find him?’ Ella said, ‘May we come in?’

Miranda Page opened the door and gestured for them to go into a sitting room on the left. She followed them but didn’t sit down.

‘Did you find him?’ she said again. Her voice was calm
but her hands were knotted together tightly.

‘We’re sorry but we have bad news.’

She started to shake.

‘Emil was found dead this morning.’

Miranda Page fainted.

They lay her on the lounge with her feet up on the arm. ‘Water and a wet tea towel,’ Ella said to Dennis. He went to get it and she felt Miranda’s pulse. Slow but steady. Her face pinked up gradually, and when Dennis came back with
the glass and the towel she was starting to blink.

She focused on Ella, and started to cry. ‘No.’

Ella folded the towel and placed it gently on her forehead.

Miranda clutched it. ‘My Emil.’

‘We’re sorry.’ Ella knelt and took her free hand. They would give her some time before they asked her questions.

Dennis nudged Ella with his foot and tilted his head at the hallway. He’d have a snoop while
she played nurse. She nodded as Miranda sat up and grabbed her in a hug and sobbed into her neck.

Red-eyed and pale but alert, Miranda perched on the edge of an upright chair by the front window. Her thin fingers had a life of their own, sliding rings up and down, rubbing her fingernails, then going back to the rings again.

‘What do you need to ask me?’ she said.

Ella began gently. ‘When did
you last see or speak to Emil?’

‘I haven’t seen him for more than a year,’ she said. ‘Angie from Streetlights told me he’s been living with friends or on the streets. He always had a room here, a nice room, but he wouldn’t come home.’

‘Why was that?’

‘He and my de facto don’t get on.’

‘How old was he when he left?’

‘Fourteen,’ she said. ‘Four years ago. I told the police but they said there
was nothing they could do. I sometimes drove the streets at night looking for him. I found him once but he didn’t want anything to do with me. Said I’d chosen Victor over him and as long as he was in my life, he wouldn’t be back. Said he didn’t want to see me.’ She started to cry again. ‘Victor can be strict. Too strict, I told him, but he doesn’t listen to me.’