Challis - 01 - Dragon Man (32 page)

Challis heard the rising note in her
voice, the fear, outrage and hysteria. One thing weve got going for us, its
daylight, he said. Now calm down and think like a copper.

Daylight? How does that help us? He
snatched her in daylight and no-one noticed.

But he wont

He was about to say, wont dump her
body in daylight. He said, Ledwich has a job. Hes accountable to people
during the day. He wont do anything until its dark.

Keep her tied up all day? God, bad
as that is, I hope so.

They were creeping over speedbumps
now. Challis pointed. Scobies already here. That was quick.

The CIB Falcon was parked across
Ledwichs driveway, effectively blocking off the station wagon, which was
parked at the side of the house. Ellen was peering at the figures in the
Falcon. I dont see Ledwich anywhere. Dont tell me hes done a runner.

Then Sutton was at Challiss window.
He wasnt at work, boss. Called in sick yesterday.

Ellen Destry seemed to crumple. She
began to bite on her finger. Oh God.

Have you tried the house?

Waiting for you, boss.

They got out and approached the
house. Challis pushed a button next to the front door, which was a heavy,
carven thing, varnish peeling from its daily beating from the sun. Challis
itched to pick at the varnish strips. The door opened.

Mrs Ledwich?

Yes?

Challis motioned Sutton and two of
the uniformed constables to make for the rear of the property, then pushed
through, into the house, followed by Ellen Destry and the other officers.

We have a warrant to search these
premises and any vehicles that you may own. Is your husband here?

Ledwichs wife looked tired and
distracted. Hes in bed. Summer flu. Then she stared from one to the other. Why
dont you leave him alone? He almost lost his job over you lot coming around
and asking questions. Give him a break.

We just need to talk to him,
Challis said.

Beside him, Ellen was fuming. She
pushed forward. Look, are you going to take us through to him or not?

Keep your undies on.

The house was depressing. The
ceilings and walls were designed for a small race of people. The furniture was
too big for it, as if composed of intrusive angles and surfaces. Challis saw a
massive television set and an exercise machine. A radio somewhere was tuned to
a talkback show. They came to the bedroom. Ledwich was lumped under a sheet and
a pink blanket and he looked wretched, his features red and sodden, his
breathing rattling with phlegm.

What do you bastards want?

Challis introduced himself but knew
that something was wrong. He wasnt looking at a man whod gone out earlier
that day and abducted and raped and killed or at least hidden a teenage girl.

Ellen Destry knew it, too. Challis
sensed her disappointment. She said, Lance, where were you this morning?

Right here. In this bed. Been here
since yesterday.

Challis looked around at the wallpaper,
the gleaming white built-in wardrobe, the lace curtains. There was an odour of
illness and stale air in the little room. The bed was a costly, vulgar
monstrosity, fitted with a silvery-gold vinyl headboard. Rows of brass studs
dimpled the vinyl, and there was a radio and a pair of speakers set into it.

He turned to Ledwich. You havent
been in Penzance Beach?

Im flaming crook, I tell ya.

Okay, lets try this. Can you
account for your movements on the nights of the twelfth and the seventeenth of
December, and around dawn on the twenty-third?

I already told this bitch here

Ellen stepped close to the bed and
neatly clouted him at the hairline.

Ow. He rubbed his head.

Answer the question, Lance.

Like I told you, I was at work.

According to the foreman, you were
often liberal with your hours.

Yeah, but not enough to go out and
grab and kill someone and stash her somewhere. And if you arseholes done your
homework youd know I started
day
shift on the twenty-third. Six a.m.
start. The wifes got it written down on the calendar. I know, because I
double-checked after you done me over the last time. So I couldnt of killed
whoever it was that time, and I didnt kill none of the others.

Challis nodded to Ellen, who left
the room.

Before your Pajero was stolen, had
it ever been used by another person? A friend, neighbour, member of your
family?

My sister, my brother-in-law.

I understand your brother-in-laws
been in Thailand for the past month. Who else has had access to it?

A blush and a twist of sullenness
under the red chapped skin. Look, I know it wasnt registered, I know Im not
licensed at the moment, Ill cop to that, but I was desperate, I had to get to
work.

So you stored it at your sisters
house and drove it from time to time?

Yes. I had to get to work.

Couldnt your wife have taken you?

Shes got her own work to go to.

You thought that if the police ever
happened to check up on you herechecking you werent driving around while
unlicensedtheyd not see the Pajero, or see you coming and going in it, and
theyd assume you were being a good boy.

Something like that.

Not too bright, Lance.

Ledwich folded his arms sulkily on
the bedclothes at his chest.

Ill ask you again, did anyone else
drive your Pajero?

No.

What about the station wagon?

The wifes car.

But you drive it sometimes?

Not often. Not while I was
unlicensed. She had this thing about the police confiscating it if I drove it.

Did you take it out this morning?

The wife did. I needed painkillers.
She was only gone ten minutes.

Getting back to the Pajero. Did you
have occasion to fit another set of tyres to it before Christmas?

No. Why?

Do you own another vehicle?

Do I look like I can afford three?

Ill come clean with you, Lance,
Challis said. An investigator found a Cooper tyre track left by your Pajero in
Chicory Kiln Road.

Wouldnt know what tyres I had on
it. They were already on it when I bought it.

The vehicle were looking for in
connection with the murder of Jane Gideon was fitted with a Cooper tyre of the
same size and type.

Bullshit.

Can you account for that, Lance?

Account for it? Youre stitching me
up. Youre running around like headless chooks getting nowhere, so you think,
hang on, lets frame old Lance.

A Cooper all-terrain tyre, quite
uncommon, quite distinctive tread pattern.

Challis saw Ledwich fight with the
information, and then saw his face clear and heard him say, what any good
defence brief would say: Yeah, but youre not saying my tyres the exact same
tyre that youre looking for, only that its similar.

Where did you have your tyres
fitted?

I told you, they were already on
it. I didnt take much notice what they were. A tyres a tyre to me. Anyhow,
anything could have happened after it was stolen. Maybe those what took it
fitted new tyres, or maybe the spare was a Cooper tyre and they had a puncture.

All good defence brief arguments,
Challis thought.

At that point, Ellen came in with
the calendar. She looked drawn and pale and defeated. Challis huddled with her
in the corridor, where she murmured, According to this, he
did
have a
six oclock start on the twenty-third.

That could have been written in since,
Challis said. But check with his employer again.

Meanwhile, Ellen said, Lance has
been in bed all day and clearly couldnt have nabbed Larrayne. So where does
that leave us?

* * * *

Outside,
Challis spoke into his mobile phone. Sir, a request. It will need to be quick.

Try me, McQuarrie said.

I need a team of uniforms and
detectives at Penzance Beach. Sergeant Destrys daughter hasnt been seen since
this morning.

Silence. Then, Oh, Lord.

It might not be related, but we
have to treat it as if it is. Its panic stations here.

I should have been informed the
minute you knew.

Sorry, sir.

Okay, you can have your extra men,
McQuarrie said. Do you have any leads at all? he added peevishly.

Some, said Challis coldly, and were
about to crack that arson death.

Keep me informed, Hal, okay?
Regularly.

Count on it, sir.

Challis pocketed the phone.

Boss?

Scobie Sutton had been tugging
uselessly on the side door of Ledwichs steel garage. Locked, boss.

Forget it. Were going back to the
station.

One of the uniformed constables
drove. Challis almost sat in the back with Ellen Destry, but her anxiety was
too palpable. She spent the journey talking on her mobile phone, and from his
position in the passenger seat he could sense her jittery body, hear her
anguish, as she made her calls.

He heard her say, Anything from the
hospitals?

The last three calls had been to her
husband. Was this another? No . . .

Constable, I dont want excuses.
Just do it.

She flipped the phone off, and
Challis turned around, about to talk to her, distract her, when she stabbed her
fingers at the call buttons again. She had her notebook open in her lap,
numbers listed in the back few pages.

This is Sergeant Destry. Im trying
to locate my daughter. No, nothing to worry about. Has she been in the shop
today? No? She said she might be going in some time to buy a CD. No? Okay,
thank you.

Challis faced ahead again. The calls
were serving a useful function, keeping her occupiedif hyperand, in a way,
they constituted police work. Who knows, she might uncover a person or a memory
that would lead them to her daughter.

* * * *

Twenty-Five

he
woman at the front desk had a girl with her, seventeen or eighteen, hostile,
sulky. Mother and daughter, the desk sergeant decided, and turned to the
mother. Help you, madam?

I need to speak to someone.

She was thin and careworn. Her hands
were veined and knuckled, an old womans hands, though she was probably no more
that forty-five. Will I do?

Its about that backpack on TV.

Orders were that anyone with
information on the abductions was to be sent straight through to an interview
room. Inspector Challis will be along to speak to you shortly, the desk sergeant
said.

They waited for five minutes. It was
early evening, six oclock. Challis was deeply fatigued. Ellen Destry had gone
home to be with her husband, but he knew shed be back again. The other
detectives were occupied with the search for Larrayne Destry. So that left him
to speak to the cranks and time-wasters.

You told my sergeant that this is
about a backpack, Mrs Stokes.

The one on TV.

Go on.

Megan she indicated her daughter well,
she has a boyfriend.

A boyfriend. Go on.

He gave her a backpack.

Name?

Well, it had a brand name stamped
into the leather. And a tag of some sort stitched to the lining, but someone
had cut it off.

Challis felt his skin prickle.
According to Mrs Abbott, Kymbly Abbott had stitched her name to the bottom of
the designers label of her backpack. He remembered her teary face: I showed
her how to do it, Mr Challis, shed said.

Well come back to the backpack,
Mrs Stokes. I meant, the boyfriends name.

Danny Holsinger.

Challis beamed across the table at
the women. Now, theres a coincidence. Danny is helping us with our inquiries
right at this very moment.

I bet he is, Mrs Stokes said.

Why dont you all leave him alone,
the girl said. He hasnt done nothing.

Tell me about the backpack.

Danny killed them girls, didnt he?
Mrs Stokes said. He killed them and souvenired some of their things and had
the nerve to give the backpack to my daughter.

We dont know that its the same
backpack.

Course it is. I had a gander at it
when he gave it to Megan. This is nice, I says. Then I see the tags been cut
off. I say, whats this? He goes, Oh, I bought it at a seconds shop, thats why
theres no label. But I didnt believe him.

Challis turned to the girl. Megan?
Did Danny say where he got the backpack?