Disappear (6 page)

‘Oh.’ Cindy shuffled her feet. She felt awkward. She wanted to console her friend and colleague somehow. She wanted to tell Jennifer that Brian must have been a wonderful man. If that was the case, though, then why had he walked out of the lives of everyone who knew him?

‘They never got over it, Cindy. They were shattered.’

Cindy took Jennifer by the hand, clasping it tightly. ‘As big a shock as this might be, you can’t let it drag you back over old ground. That part of your life was over eighteen years ago.’

‘I know. I’ll be okay. Really. And there’s no need for Henry and Roger to come charging over. I don’t see that much of them these days, anyhow.’

Cindy squeezed Jennifer’s hand and gave her a reassuring smile. She could see that her friend had been dragged back across the years. And what was all this Jennifer had said about a look-alike and dental records for proof of identity?

Cindy only knew that a shiver passed through her when she looked into her employer’s eyes and saw the haunted expression.

Drew McIntyre had been in the Coroners Department for fifteen years. In that time there wasn’t much he hadn’t seen. A short, pudgy man, with puffy eyes and a comfortable smile, he was leaving his office when Neil Lachlan crossed his path.

‘Just on my way out,’ McIntyre said. ‘Something I can do for you?’

‘Dr. McIntyre? Detective Senior Sergeant Neil Lachlan.’ He offered his hand and the two men shook.

‘Seen your name on a few documents just lately.’

‘I’m still one of the newbies in Homicide. Used to be with the Drug Squad.’

‘Well, it’s always good to put a face to a name. I’ve got to rush though, sergeant, I’m due in the lab for an autopsy.’

‘I realize your report on the Parkes case isn’t complete, but I’ve scanned your initial findings. It would help if I could run through a few things with you.’

‘Walk with me,’ McIntyre said. Lachlan fell into step beside him as they headed down the corridor. ‘This is the hit/run? The man missing eighteen years?’

‘That’s right,’ said Lachlan. ‘Your estimated time of death was approximately six hours before the body was found, around one a.m.’

‘Yes. Very minor cellular damage. Rigor mortis and discolouring barely started.’

‘The widow said the body looked exactly as her husband had looked eighteen years ago, when he disappeared aged twenty-five. She said he couldn’t look the same now.’

‘I saw that in the paperwork. Nevertheless, the dental check has confirmed the identity.’

‘I called for the dental charts because Ms Parkes thought the man was too young. I needed to rule out the possibility of a look-alike.’

‘The youthful appearance is puzzling.’ McIntyre shrugged. ‘On the one hand it’s an unusual case, but on the other it’s straightforward. The body’s been positively identified and the cause of death is clear.’

Lachlan pressed the point. ‘But the widow is adamant. If it is her husband then he hasn’t aged from that day to this. What do you make of that?’

‘Nonsense, I’m sure you’d agree. Just because the man looks young doesn’t mean he hadn’t aged. And determining exact age in a situation like this can be a very tricky thing. Let me elaborate –

‘Up until the age of twenty-five, dental development is very consistent. From that alone we can be accurate in determining the age of a child or a young adult. Likewise with older people. There are pathological changes such as arterial degeneration and arthritis. And from the early forties sutures of the skull vault begin to close at a standard rate. This affords a reasonable degree of accuracy in determining age.

‘The middle adult years are the most difficult. There’s minor organ deterioration, if any, and this - along with physical appearance - varies widely from one person to another. It’s strange, of course, for a fortyish man to pass for mid-twenties, but it’s not impossible. For goodness sake, Cliff Richard looked boyish until he was in his fifties.

‘So, we can’t guarantee accuracy in that age group. I certainly can’t support some woman’s claim that her husband hadn’t actually aged. That’s preposterous.’

Lachlan conceded the point with a nod. Technically, McIntyre was correct in his observations. But Lachlan had seen the body of Brian Parkes and he didn’t believe it belonged to a forty-three year old man. ‘There was nothing in your internal physical examination to suggest a discrepancy in the age?’

‘Only in the bones. You see, certain skeletal changes take place between thirty and forty. This man did not show any of the changes that I’d expect to see happen by the age of forty-three. But once again, this isn’t definitive enough to contradict his known birth date. It’s rare, but a freak hormonal condition could slow skeletal changes, just as in some people it could accelerate them. Can’t be ruled out.’

‘What about plastic surgery? That could explain Parkes’ youthful appearance.’

‘No surgery of any kind.’

‘Drugs? Unusual substances in his system?’

‘Nothing unusual. Only nicotine. The autopsy showed none of the things you’re looking for, I’m afraid. Apart from the injuries sustained in the accident, Parkes was in excellent condition and good health. The question of age doesn’t concern me, detective, it’s something else entirely that jumps out and will be in my report. One highly unusual fact. I found a surgical puncture mark to his right jugular vein for which there’s no rational explanation.’

‘His jugular? That would cause fatal bleeding.’

‘Not in this case. The puncture was made post mortem, so no bleeding.’

‘You’re saying someone came along while the guy was dead in the street and stuck something in his throat?’

McIntyre shrugged. ‘That appears to be the case. I’m afraid I can’t shed any further light on that, other than the incision was made by someone with surgical know-how.’

‘But it had nothing to do with the cause of death?’

‘No.’

Frustration gnawed at Lachlan. ‘What will your official summary be, doctor?’

‘Death due to injuries sustained in a hit/run, with a person or persons unknown interfering with the body afterwards.’

‘What about a coronial enquiry?’

‘That’s up to the courts. However, with evidence as flimsy as this, it’s hardly likely.’ They arrived at the lab. ‘Sorry I can’t help more, but I must get on with it.’ McIntyre disappeared through the double swing doors. ‘Good luck with your investigation.’

‘Thanks for your help.’ Lachlan didn’t think the examiner had been much help at all. He’d raised even more questions without coming up with solutions, which reminded him that coroners dealt with facts, not fantasies. And, as McIntyre had said, the known facts to this case were mostly straightforward.

He pondered the Parkes mystery as he drove back to Hurstville Police Station. The dental records matched so the body had to be Parkes. Didn’t it? If that was the case, why was there no sign of ageing?

And how the hell did he get a post mortem surgical incision to his jugular vein?

Why had he turned up now, in the exact same place from which he’d vanished years before?

Lachlan cast himself back to the discovery of the body. He’d looked into the face of Brian Parkes. There had been no fear, no pain, no indication of what Parkes had seen or heard in his final moments.

Just the ordinary face of a young man who seemed to have grown no older.

Henry Kaplan embraced Jennifer and hugged her tightly. ‘You look marvellous,’ he said, ‘and I see you’re still doing wonderful things with this business. Six stores now, isn’t it?’

‘Boutiques,’ Jennifer corrected him, ‘and yes, six.’

‘Plans for more?’

‘No. I’m happy with the size we are now, and the current economic climate is not the time for expansion.’

‘Expansion was our undoing,’ Kaplan reflected.

Watching Jennifer, Kaplan noted that age suited her. She’s one of the lucky ones.

Her face, with serene blue eyes and finely chiseled cheekbones, was untouched by lines except for those that ran in slight creases beneath her eyes. But these were hardly crow’s feet - instead they were true laughter lines, soft shadows that crept playfully across the top of her cheeks, magnifying her natural warmth. The medium length hair was still raven black, parted a little to the side, the style shorter than when he’d last seen her and perfect for accentuating those eyes.

Kaplan recalled that he’d always regarded her slender figure as that of a dancer’s, and this view remained unchanged. If there was a difference it came in the distribution of her weight, so that she was now shapelier than he remembered.

Roger had entered the office behind his father. He leaned towards Jennifer to kiss her on the cheek. ‘It’s been a week for bad news all round.’

‘Yes.’ Jennifer leaned back against the side of her desk, arms folded, gazing at the two men. So long since the three of them had been together like this. She could see how much Roger’s physical appearance had followed that of his father. The thickening eyebrows, the cleft in the chin more pronounced now than when he was younger.

‘How’s that gorgeous girl of yours?’ Kaplan asked.

‘Carly’s fine, Henry, and not so little now.’

‘You sounded uncertain on the phone. About the body,’ Roger said.

‘He looked exactly the same as the night he disappeared. The same clothes, the same wallet with the same driver’s licence. It’s as though he stepped through a hole in time from that day to this.’

‘Nonsense,’ Henry Kaplan said. ‘I’m sure these things were mere coincidence. And don’t discount the idea. I’ve observed over the years that coincidence plays a part in all our lives. Happens every day in dozens of ways, big and small.’

‘But his
face
, Henry.’

‘Perhaps you saw him the way you remembered him. It was the shock. I’m sure that’s what it must have been.’

‘But are you certain it was him?’ Roger asked. ‘Could it have been someone else who looked like him?’

‘I thought that must have been the case. But the police just phoned. The teeth on the body match Brian’s old dental records.’

‘You need to get out of here,’ Kaplan said. ‘We all need a breather at the moment. Let Roger and I take you to dinner tonight.’

‘I’d love to, but an old friend is coming around later. Meg Tanner. I phoned her last night with the news.’

‘Meg Tanner? Was that Meg Roberts?’ Roger asked.

‘Yes. Her maiden name.’

‘I remember her. She was a great comfort to you back then.’

‘You all were.’ She focused her attention on Henry Kaplan. ‘You’ve done so much to help me over the years. Getting me started in this business …’

Kaplan waved away the praise. ‘Bring Meg Tanner with you. We’ll all dine together.’ He strode over to Jennifer’s desk, picked up the phone and held it out to her. In control, as always. ‘Call her now. We’ll make arrangements to meet at Eduardo’s.’

Jennifer smiled. Henry Kaplan’s style of command always made the recipients of his attention feel secure. ‘If you insist.’

He grinned back at her. ‘I always insist. It’s what I do’

Soft, muted lights gave the French restaurant an old world charm. An Edith Piaf record played softly in the background, adding to the Parisian air and the Gallic decor. Grainy black and white photographs of the landmarks of Paris, circa 1920’s, adorned the walls in gold embossed frames.

Meg arrived at seven-fifteen and the waiter, dark hair, dark eyes, tight black trousers with velvet sash, showed her to the table. Jennifer handled the introductions.

‘A pleasure to meet you,’ said Kaplan. ‘We’ve just been hearing all about you.’

‘Don’t believe a word.’ She took her seat and nodded to Roger.

‘We’ve heard only good things,’ Kaplan told her.

‘Like I said, don’t believe a word.’

Kaplan laughed.

‘It’s been a long time,’ Roger said, ‘we met a few times, many years ago, at Jennifer’s place.’

‘Of course.’ Meg moved quickly to change the subject. She didn’t want the discussion focusing on the past, when Jennifer and Brian had been newlyweds. ‘You’d think, both being friends of Jennifer’s, that our paths might have crossed a little more often.’ She grinned. ‘Perhaps she’s been deliberately keeping us apart.’

‘Wouldn’t put it past her.’

Meg laughed at his joke but moved quickly again to change the subject. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your business troubles. Awful news.’

‘The last few years have been the toughest on business in a long time,’ Kaplan explained. ‘Of course I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know. It’s been a struggle for everyone. In retrospect, we should have adapted faster. The GFC changed the financial landscape. We’re a corporation with our fingers in lots of pies, stretched too thin for too long.’

‘Like us, a lot of corporations with diverse interests and large debt have fallen into trouble,’ Roger added.

Kaplan shot a nondescript look at his son. ‘We were particularly over exposed with debt in our Australian based companies.’

Roger glanced at his father but said nothing. He simply lifted his glass of wine to his lips and sipped casually.

Jennifer noticed Roger’s glance. It confirmed her suspicion that the life-long antagonism and rivalry between father and son was still there, bubbling under the surface, consistently coming to a head. It had been like that years ago and even then it had been something she could sense.

She’d never known the real reason for it. Kaplan was a self-made man and Roger, like too many rich sons, had taken the money and prestige for granted. Roger had coasted through university, an average student, secure in the knowledge that a senior management position awaited him. Jennifer suspected that was the core of Henry Kaplan’s resentment and frustration. He knew his son was lazy and arrogant. However, Kaplan’s pride made him intent on having his own son and heir inherit his business empire.

For the past decade, Kaplan had been building the corporation in North America and Canada while Roger steered the local divisions deeper and deeper into debt. At least, that was the impression now given by Henry Kaplan. Jennifer was well aware that for the past few years the Kaplan Corporation had been rocked by one financial crisis and panic sell-off after another. The troubled fortunes of the proud family had shifted from the financial sections to the general news pages of the print media. It was one of several drawn-out corporate collapses throughout Australia.