WHYTE LIES (8 page)

“Anyone fancy a few drinks down the pub?” asked Plunkett, yawning as he stretched his arms over his head.

“Count me in,” said Reilly, “it’s been a long day.”

“I’m in,” Byrne piped up, “I could do with a few bevvies after today.”

“I’m off for a romantic night out with my husband,” said Nora, as she shut down her computer and gathered her things. “I’ll leave you youngsters to party. G’night all. See you Monday.”

She waved at Faith on the way past her office. “Have a good weekend.”

“You too.” Faith smiled. She was looking forward to having the office to herself; she did her best thinking alone in the silence after everyone left for the evening.

“How about you, Kelly? Will you join us?” asked Plunkett.

“I’m grand, thanks anyway. I’m going to stick around here for a while. I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.”

“Can’t you do
it on Monday? Come on, it’s Friday night. I’m sure whatever it is can wait,” said Reilly.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.” Kelly turned back to his computer, signalling the end of the conversation.

Faith watched as one by one the team left. She stopped by Kelly’s desk on her way to the coffee machine. “When are you heading home?”

“The wife’s probably got her new fancy man in place by now,” said Kelly.

“Haven’t you sorted that out yet?” She had noticed that he was looking more bedraggled than usual. He’d even lost weight. “Where are you staying?”

“Well…um…” He didn’t look up from his computer.

“You’re not still kipping here?”

“It’s temporary. I’ve got a few flats lined up to view over the weekend.”

“Grab your coat. You’re coming home with me,” said Faith.

“That’s an offer I can’t refuse.” He grinned.

“There’s a spare room over my garage that you can use until you get yourself sorted. You can’t sleep here. “Come on, before I change my mind.” She grabbed her jacket and shut down her computer.

“Are you sure about this, boss?” Kelly looked sheepish as they stood waiting for the lift to the ground floor.

“Call me Faith; we’re off duty now.” She smiled at him. “Yes, I’m sure, but it’s only temporary. Oh and don’t tell the others. It’s none of their business.”

“It can be our little secret.”

“Enough with the innuendo.”

“Yes, boss — Faith.” He saluted and jumped into his car.

Faith led the way along the mountain road to her house with Kelly following close behind. The closer they got to her house, the more she wondered if she was doing the right thing; she and Kelly weren’t exactly the best of friends, and she didn’t know if they’d get through the weekend without killing each other. “Ah well,” she said to herself, “it can be my good deed for the day.”

“This is some place you’ve got here,” said Kelly. He stood in the drive admiring the panoramic views. “How did you afford this on a detective’s salary?”

“I inherited it from my grandmother.”

He followed her inside and upstairs to the living room. His gaze took in the oak floor, the French doors that led onto a balcony, and the red-bricked fireplace. “This painting is amazing,” he said, admiring the framed landscape hanging over the fire. “Who’s the artist?”

“That would be me.” Faith kicked off her boots and flung her jacket on the bannister before sinking into the soft leather couch. Kelly stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“I didn’t know you could paint.”

“There’s not a lot you do know about me.”

She let him stand for a few minutes in the middle of the room before she took pity on him. “We’ve known each other too long to stand on formality, Kelly. Make yourself at home. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge.”

“Well, I always thought you were a heartless bitch, but it looks like I was wrong, for once.”

“We’ll have less of the bitch, thanks.” She grinned. “You don’t want to know what happened to the last person who called me that.”

“Fair enough. Sorry, I didn’t mean any offence.”

“None taken, but you can fix me a Coke with ice to apologise, and whatever you’re having yourself.” She stood up and drew the curtains against the light rain that had begun to fall.

“Cheers,” said Kelly, re-emerging from the kitchen. “Thanks for helping me out.” He looked sheepish as he handed her the Coke.

“Cheers.” She clinked her glass against his. “No need to thank me. I know what it’s like to have nowhere to go.”

“Boss, there’s a call for you on line two. It’s urgent,” said Reilly.

“Can it wait? I’m up to my eyeballs here,” snapped Faith.

“I think you’ll want to take this call; it’s Lisa Edwards.”

“Patch her through.”

“Miss Edwards, DCI Faith Whyte.”

“Is it true?” The woman’s sobs came down the line.

“Is what true?” Never the most patient person, too much caffeine and not enough sleep weren’t doing anything to improve Faith’s mood.

“Is Amira dead?” Lisa asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. She died on August thirty-first.” Faith pushed her mountain of paperwork to one side and opened the warm can of Coke beside her computer.

“The same day my brother died.”

Faith almost dropped her Coke. “Are you sure? August thirty-first?”

“Of course I’m sure. How could I forget my own brother’s death?”

“How did you hear about the murders?” asked Faith. She stood up and knocked at the window, beckoning to Kelly. She put a finger to her lips as he entered the office before putting Lisa on loudspeaker.

“The FBI contacted me.”

“The FBI?” Faith and Kelly exchanged glances.

“Is there a problem with the line?” Lisa couldn’t hide her irritation.

“No, everything’s fine. This is just a little difficult to take in.”

“You’re telling me. I still can’t get my head around Tammy, I mean Amira, and Max dying on the same day. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but Max told me they emailed each other often. I’ve been going through his things, including his emails, and I noticed something suspicious.”

“Such as?” Faith prompted.

“Such as the way he died. He could have done with losing some weight, but he wasn’t obese. He hadn’t been complaining about feeling unwell; in fact, he’d just taken up swimming and was enjoying it, so his death came as a shock. It wasn’t until I went through his emails that I got suspicious. After the call from the FBI agent, I checked his emails to see who might have been corresponding with him, but all the emails between Tammy–I mean, Amira–and Max were deleted. Max emailed me every day, mostly funny Youtube videos or articles he’d seen online; those emails were still there. Straight away, I thought something suspicious was going on. Someone deleted their email exchanges, but it wasn’t Max; he never deleted anything. He wasn’t tech-savvy; I set up his email address and Facebook account. There was something in those emails that was important to someone; I don’t know who and I don’t know what, but someone wanted to know what they were discussing.

“Max believed there was an attempt on his life a few weeks before he died. Apparently, a woman in a car tried to knock him off his bike. He called me to tell me about it, but I dismissed it; he’s always been a conspiracy theorist. Nothing was ever straightforward with Max, now I wished I’d paid more attention. I think he was right. I think someone wanted him dead, which is why I don’t think his death was a simple heart attack. Max and Tammy dying on the same day is more than a sinister coincidence.

“I think Tammy’s life here in Australia is connected to the murders. I think she was the real target: She and whatever secrets she took to the grave. I’m absolutely convinced that there’s a lot more behind Tammy and the murders than everyone thinks.”

“How well did you know her?” asked Faith.

“I was her only friend, apart from Max,” said Lisa. “She loved living in Australia. She loved the weather, the people, and the laidback lifestyle. Several times, she told me it was like heaven, and she never wanted to leave.”

“So why did she leave?”

“She said her elder sister pressured her to leave. I got the impression that Layla had some sort of a hold over her. Tammy seemed almost afraid of her. I tried talking to her about Layla, but Tammy–Amira–said that Layla had been like a mother to her after their parents passed away. I didn’t like to ask too many questions about her past; it upset her.”

“What brought Amira to Australia in the first place?”

“She said she wanted a change of scene and that she wanted to try being someone else for a while.”

“Strange.”

“Maybe she was tired of being in her sister’s shadow.”

“Maybe. Did Amira have a good relationship with you and your family?”

“We all loved her. I adored her. She was like the sister I never had. I spent all my free time with her and Max at their house, at barbies, at the beach or by the pool. I saw her most days. We were close. Tammy — Amira — sorry, I can’t call her Amira; she’ll always be Tammy to me. She was a wonderful person: sensitive, kind, thoughtful and full of life. I was shocked by the recent photos I saw of her in the newspaper: no makeup, badly dressed, overweight. When she lived here, she was into her appearance. She liked wearing fashionable clothes, she had her hair styled, and she ran five miles every morning and evening to keep fit. I couldn’t believe how she’d let herself go; it wasn’t the woman I knew. She looked miserable in those photos. To me, they were two different people.”

“Did she work?”

“She taught English at a private language school to Japanese and Thai children. They study English here for a few months before heading home. She also volunteered on Saturday mornings teaching English to adults from Iraq.”

“Is there a large Iraqi community in Australia?” asked Faith, her curiosity piqued.

“Thousands of Iraqis found refuge here after the Gulf War. They came here under the Special Humanitarian Programme. Amira was active in the Iraqi community.”

“Did you ever accompany her to the meetings?”

“No. It wasn’t my scene, but she enjoyed it. She said being there reminded her of her parents.”

“Was there any possibility that Amira married Max so she could stay in the country?” asked Faith.

“No way! They loved each other. They never said or did anything that made me suspect their marriage was a sham. I know my brother was mad about her. A few weeks before she left, she told me she had to go. When I tried asking her why she had to leave so suddenly, she changed the subject, so I stopped asking; I thought she was joking.

“One afternoon, Max told me that she really was leaving. I couldn’t believe it. I asked if she’d done something illegal. She kept saying that she didn’t have a choice, that she had to leave. I didn’t understand why she was being so secretive; I thought we were close. She said she was going back to Ireland and then to visit her relatives in Iraq. I begged her to stay, but she said she had to start over.

“I got the feeling that she didn’t want to go, that someone was pressuring her to leave. I remember that her sister was on the phone to her a lot around that time. I was so sad when she left. Besides, if she were just with Max for a visa, why would she go to all that trouble and then leave a year later? It doesn’t make sense. It has to be more than an uncanny coincidence that Max and Amira died on the same day,” said Lisa. “The coroner reported that it was a heart attack, but I don’t believe it. There’s more to it, I’m sure of it. Only a few hours separated their deaths.”

“Where did he die?” asked Faith.

“He was driving home from the grocery store. He died at the wheel of his car.”

“Was anyone else injured?”

“No, he was stopped at traffic lights when he died.”

“So what do you think happened?”

“It may have been a poison dart,” suggested Lisa.

Kelly shook his head in disbelief.

“I know it sounds very James Bond, but I believe that the two deaths were coordinated assassinations by a mutual enemy. The whole family is questioning the coroner’s findings. I know if I wanted to kill someone and get away with it, I would make it look like natural causes.”

“How was your brother’s health generally?” asked Faith.

“Like I said, he was a little overweight, and he had the usual stress issues about money, but not enough to have a heart attack. I refuse to believe it.”

“I know it’s spooky that they died on the same day, but it could be nothing more than a coincidence,” said Faith. “If there were foul play involved, I’m sure the coroner would have found some evidence of it.”

“Not necessarily,” insisted Lisa.

“Okay, so what do you think is the connection between their deaths? Why would someone hold a grudge against Amira and Max after all these years, living thousands of miles apart? It doesn’t make any sense.” Faith was finding it difficult to hide the note of exasperation in her voice. She was tired of all the conspiracy theories surrounding the case; she needed cold, hard facts, and they were proving almost impossible to come by.

“It doesn’t have to make sense to be true,” insisted Lisa. “I know that it’s been more than a decade since Amira and Max split, but they were in regular contact; Max told me himself.”

“I don’t understand what’s making you so adamant that he was murdered.”

Lisa paused. “Max asked me to do something for him the week before he died. He said if anything happened to him, I should go through his documents because there was something among his personal files that would surprise me. I don’t know if he had a premonition about his death, or if he knew that someone was after him.”

“Did you find anything?”

“I found a photo album in a locked box in his safe. But they were just photos of his wedding to Tammy, along with their marriage and divorce certificates.”

“Was there anything more sinister there?”

“No, but I wonder if he was trying to tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“I wish I knew, but I believe that her life here in Australia had something to do with the murder.”

Faith couldn’t help agreeing with Lisa. After their Skype call, Faith went through her files and pulled out Amira’s details. The stamp on her passport confirmed that she was back in Ireland almost a year to the day after leaving for Australia.

Faith couldn’t figure out why Amira left Australia and a reportedly happy marriage to move back to Ireland and marry again within two years. She went through her notes, trying to piece together what little she knew about Amira Gleeson. According to acquaintances in Dublin, she kept herself to herself, and no one knew that she had been married before. Fellow students from her time at Trinity College, said that even back then she kept herself to herself. Faith studied Amira’s graduation photo; an attractive young woman in a long blue dress smiled back at her. Like the other female students, her outfit was Western.

After graduation, she worked as an interpreter and translator at the European Union; several stamps in her passport showed her travelling from Dublin to London and on to Brussels. Some evidence, including another stamp in her passport, suggested she was living in Australia, or at least passing through, as early as 1997, which contradicted Lisa’s belief that she had only recently arrived in Australia when they met.

Interviews with the Gleesons’ neighbours confirmed that the couple kept themselves to themselves. Parents of their daughters’ friends said that Amira was a fearful person; she didn’t drive, she didn’t go shopping, and she seldom took the girls to school. Her husband did everything outside the house. She only spoke if someone spoke to her. Faith couldn’t get her head around the differences between the reserved Amira and her vivacious alter ego, Tammy. Lisa was right; they were like two different people.