Hindsight (9781921997211) (20 page)

CHAPTER

22

Ed left Cass's house full of nervous energy. It'd been a full-on day, but Cass's revelations about the killer had fired him up. He wanted to get the guy and he wanted to do it now. He thought about calling Phil but he didn't want to disturb her down-time with Grace. He couldn't bear the thought of going home; sleep was out of the question.

He decided to head to the station. He wanted to look back through the case files and see if there was any mention of the other women attending expos. What he needed was the women's diaries, if they kept them. The Marcy Lucas case was a no go, all the evidence would be in Adelaide. Janet Hodgson's and Susan's were local though. Any evidence on their cases would be boxed up in the evidence room.

He remembered Phil picking up something that looked like a diary when they searched Janet's flat. Hopefully she was a religious user of it. He also wanted to check back through Susan's diary. Hers was definitely boxed with other bits and pieces that the investigating detectives thought were relevant. Thinking back, he was sure that she'd gone to some sort of fair or expo in the summer with one of her friends from work, but he couldn't remember what it was.

He drove away from Jewel Bay to Fairfield barely aware of his surroundings. For the first time in a long time he actually felt hopeful that he might find an answer to Susan's disappearance. It was not knowing that ate away at his insides night after night. For months he'd woken up at three in the morning and stared into the darkness, wondering. He'd played out so many scenarios in his head to explain what had happened — including Susan being the victim of a serial killer.

Now it was almost a certainty, he felt strangely numb. It was weird; facing his worst fears, surely he should feel horrified and appalled, not detached, like he was wrapped in cottonwool and it was happening to someone else. Maybe he'd expended all his sorrow imagining the worst so that there was nothing left to feel now? No, it wasn't that. One thing he knew for sure was that sorrow could be infinite.

Cass was partly responsible for him feeling like he'd suddenly fallen down a rabbit hole. He still couldn't believe that he was working with a psychic — it beggared belief. Hard facts and good detective work were the keys to solving crimes. There just wasn't room in his universe for the intangible, airy-fairy world of sixth sense mumbo jumbo — until yesterday.

Anita Lehman had started the unravelling process and Cass had finished it. Any skerrick of a doubt he had left had been blown away when he witnessed her visions firsthand. He was more than a bit shocked at how the visions affected her. Now he got it. He understood how a bright and attractive young woman like her could lock herself away from the world. She wasn't a nutcase, she was cursed. He felt a deep compassion for her.

She also brought out a fierce protective streak in him. He'd felt like some old-fashioned hero rescuing a damsel in distress when he'd picked her up and carried her back to his car, and a big part of him liked playing that role. It wasn't too often that he got to feel heroic these days.

Ed pulled into the station car park and swiped his access card. He took the lift up to the squad room. There was no one around. He looked at the roster on the wall; Samuels and Matthews were on-call tonight. The Hodgson case had ground to a halt until the CS landed back on their doorstep in the morning and Sorenson would have sent everyone else home to rest up while they could.

He booted up his computer. He liked working at night when there were no distractions — no phones ringing, no Sorenson looking over his shoulder asking what he was doing. He started by doing a search for expos held in 2009. The word ‘expo' was what Cass had said and it was pretty specific. He thought it was unlikely that the vic would have used that word randomly.

There were plenty: cars, house and garden, handyman, caravan and camping, sex and adult products, mind and body, and psychic. Although it was possible the vic was interested in cars, camping or handyman stuff, Ed ruled those out as less likely. From what he'd read of Marcy's file he also thought the sex one was a bit unlikely although you never knew. That left the house and garden, the mind and body, and the psychic one. The psychic expo was only a week before she was killed and it instantly drew his attention. Maybe the killer was a stallholder? There could be some irony in that; was a fake psychic about to be caught by the real deal?

He did a more thorough search for information on that particular expo and jotted down the name of the organisers. He would contact them tomorrow and get a listing of the stallholders. Hopefully they kept that information. If he could get the list, he and Phil could start checking to see if any of them had a record.

He printed out some info about the expo and shut the computer down. He headed downstairs to the evidence room. Maria, a uniformed officer close to retirement, was on duty at the front desk, which was where the evidence room log was kept. The room itself was through a door behind the desk, in full view of the CCTV cameras.

Maria greeted him warmly. He'd known her since he first started in Fairfield Station. She'd always been a genuine and up front person. When Susan went missing she was one of the few people who'd approached him about it directly. She'd told him outright that she knew he'd had nothing to do with it. He'd been touched and very grateful for the show of support. When she saw him, her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

‘What brings you here at this time of night?'

It was Maria's way to know exactly who should be around at any given time. Ed felt a pang of guilt. He wasn't going to be able to tell her the whole truth and he felt bad about it.

‘Two things, CS are here tomorrow about the Janet Hodgson case and I just want to go back over some of the evidence. Is it all here still or did they take it with them?'

‘Most of it's still here. They were pretty confident they had their guy and they didn't think there was anything very useful in the items you collected. They took all the crime scene stuff but, from memory, left the rest.'

She shifted her considerable bulk off the stool she was perched on and waddled off into the room behind her. She was a fantastic cook who enjoyed her own cooking. She came back a few minutes later and plonked a cardboard box in front of him.

‘You said there were two things? What was the other one?'

‘A favour. I was hoping you would let me have Susan's diary. It has the phone numbers and addresses of some old friends jotted in it.'

‘You going to run upstairs and copy the page straight away?'

‘Yeah, that'd be great.' Ed knew he was pushing it. He didn't want to get the woman in trouble but at the same time he didn't want a record of the diary being signed out to him. Sorenson would go mad if she knew he was working the case. It was a small miracle that she'd let him work with Cass.

‘I'll go get her box.' She turned to walk back into the evidence room.

‘Don't you need to look it up?'

‘There are some cases that I'll never forget the location of,' she said quietly and with such compassion that it brought a lump to Ed's throat.

She disappeared again and came back a few minutes later with the box for Susan's case. She placed it gently on the counter. Ed looked at it. He rested one hand on the lid. How could something as ordinary as a brown cardboard box sum up the wonderful life that had been Susan? It didn't seem fitting that the essence of her was bundled into something so bland and utilitarian. He wasn't sure how he felt about diving into the contents. There were ghosts in there and he was afraid to let them out.

He eased off the lid. A whiff of musty air escaped, telling him that it had been a long time since anyone had spent any time on her case. It wasn't a cold case any more. He gently sorted through the contents, trying hard not to look too carefully at anything. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for: Susan's leather-bound diary. It was something she always carried on her; touching it felt like touching a part of her. He quickly lifted it out of the box. He couldn't afford to get all sentimental now. He had work to do.

‘This is it, thanks, Maria.'

‘Make sure you bring it back tonight.'

‘Will do, thanks again.'

‘Any way I can help,' she said. For others it would have been a throwaway line. Maria really meant it. Ed was grateful for people like Maria. Small kindnesses made all the difference.

He headed upstairs, settled back at his desk and opened the diary. Its gold embossed pages gave off the faint and unmistakable scent of Susan's perfume. He tried to remember the name of it. Tears welled up in his eyes. He still missed her terribly. He flicked through the pages, looking at the scrawled entries in her crazy, loopy cursive. He flicked to the day of her disappearance and started working backwards. Every so often an entry would leap out at him, adding extra salt to the freshly opened wound.
Ed's birthday dinner!
she'd written.

He remembered the night. She'd surprised him with a dinner at his favourite restaurant, Russell's Pizza House in McLaren Vale. Phil and Grace were there too. It was a night of laughter, good food and way too much wine. He dragged himself back from the memory; happy times.

He kept flicking, trying not to let other memories crowd in. He had to go right back to March to find the entry he was looking for. There it was, the 25th; she'd gone to a mind and body expo in Adelaide with her friend Julia. He remembered it now. She came back talking about crystals and astrological charts. He'd poohed-poohed it all and she was annoyed with him for being so close-minded. He tried to imagine her face if he told her he was now working with a psychic. She would think he was taking the piss.

He could feel his pulse racing. He now had two victims who'd been to expos in the months leading up to their disappearance. Was it just coincidence? He stood up and opened the Janet Hodgson box. There were a few things they'd taken from her flat and some bags of evidence from the scene but that was it. He rummaged some more. Tucked down the side of the box was her diary. It was small and black, the sort that was given away with magazines. He flicked through it, starting at the day she was murdered and working backwards.

There was nothing. Disappointment made him sink back into his seat. Still, it didn't mean she hadn't attended one, it just meant she wasn't good at keeping a diary. They would have to talk to her work colleagues again.

Then there were the other three cases they could check. The one benefit of the CS being involved was that they would have access to the other files. If the expo angle really was the link between the victims it was something tangible they could start working on. If all or most of the vics had attended these things then they could start to look at stallholders, security and anyone else who'd been involved in all of the events attended by the victims. It would narrow down the search and, with luck, give them only a few likely suspects to focus on.

He yawned. He'd been running on adrenaline for the last hour and it had finally worn off. It was time to go home. He couldn't do any more today and he was a bit disappointed. Part of him had hoped for a miracle; that he would find the connection, access the list of people who had worked at the expos and come up with a possible suspect all before bedtime.

Tomorrow CS would be briefed, they would take over the running of the case and Sorenson would boot him off it once and for all. It was maddening. Just when he felt like he was close to an answer to explain Susan's disappearance he would be excluded. Phil would keep him in the loop, but there was only so much she could do, assuming that CS let her keep working the case.

He sighed as he picked up Susan's diary and Janet's box. He took the stairs and dropped the items back. He thanked Maria for her help and then headed for his car. It was well after 10 PM and he just wanted to sleep. As he drove the dark streets on his way home he was acutely aware of how alone he was. He was the only person crazy enough to be out on such a bitterly cold and miserable night. At least he hoped he was. Please God, let the killer be home tonight.

CHAPTER

23

When Ed got home he snacked his way through anything resembling food that he could find before crashing into bed. He expected sleep to come quickly but the minute he closed his eyes thoughts of Susan crowded in.

Images flashed through his mind and he launched himself out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. He heaved, retching until his eyes watered and his throat was raw. He sat back against the bathroom wall. What they found could be worse than not knowing; still, he would rather know than live his life wondering.

He got up and splashed cold water on his face then looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn't pretty. He turned the light off and crashed into bed. Exhaustion finally won out and he was asleep within seconds.

The next morning he was awake by seven, bleary-eyed, head pounding. He showered, took a handful of pills and headed straight for the station. He wanted to talk to Phil before Sorenson and the rest turned up. Thankfully Phil was already in, looking disgustingly perky.

‘Jesus, look what the cat dragged in,' she said, looking Ed up and down, taking in rumpled clothes, mussed up hair and stubble. ‘Tough day yesterday?'

‘Yeah, really tough. I've got heaps to tell you. I need food and coffee if I'm going to face Sorenson today. Can we head for Enzo's and I'll fill you in?'

They settled into their usual spot and Phil waited, not very patiently, while Ed wolfed down a bacon and egg sandwich. He was chewing the last mouthful when Phil's curiosity finally got the better of her.

‘So? What did little Miss Freaky see?'

‘It was what she heard.'

He told Phil about the expo angle and the research he'd done the night before.

‘You think our guy might be a stallholder at one of these new age expo things?'

‘He could be security or one of the organisers. We — sorry, you — can contact the organisers and try to get some lists of all the stallholders and anyone else involved. Also, with Janet you can canvass her colleagues again and see if anyone remembers her attending any expos recently.'

‘With a bit of luck we'll get some common hits and I can run the names for any priors,' Phil said.

‘Yeah, I got the names and numbers of the organisers for the expos that Susan and Marcy Lucas, the 2009 vic, attended.'

‘Great, saves me doing it.'

‘If Sorenson will let me, I'll help you do some of the leg work. What time are our friends from CS due?'

‘Eleven, I think,' Phil said.

‘Sorenson is probably in by now. I'd better tell her what happened with Cass, while you make a few phone calls and try to get the lists.'

‘Yeah, fingers crossed that these new age types are into record keeping.'

Sorenson was in her office and saw them return. She beckoned to Ed.

‘Better go give her the good news.'

‘Yeah and get myself officially removed from the case.'

Sorenson demanded every detail about Cass's visions. Then he told her about his own investigations into the expo angle, carefully leaving out the bit about foraging through Susan's case file.

‘It seems we've got a serial. I'm going to include Susan as one of the potential vics, so I'm sorry, but you're off the case,' she said.

‘Can I at least help Phil chase the expo records?'

Sorenson frowned. ‘I don't suppose there's any harm. When Byrnes and Rawlinson get here you can attend the briefing to assist with handover but after that you're off. I'll keep you informed of any developments just like any other relative of a vic; no privileged access to information, and absolutely no participation in the case. Got it?'

‘Got it, and thanks.'

‘Don't thank me. If the killer had struck again last night I'd have hung you out to dry for not telling me sooner. Let's hope we don't get any reports of missing persons today.'

He tried to read her expression. He couldn't quite tell if she meant it or not. He thought she probably did.

‘See what you and Phil can come up with before CS arrives. It would be nice to have a shortlist of possible suspects.'

‘Wouldn't it just?' He walked out of her office and back to the squad room. Phil was hovering over the fax machine.

‘What's up?' Ed asked.

‘Spoke to the organiser of the 2009 expo. Nice woman, off with the fairies but thankfully her fairies are into keeping records. Nothing electronic of course but she told me she has handwritten records of all the stallholders, the organising committee and contractors they hired for security, waste disposal and everything else.'

‘She's faxing it through?'

‘Yes, her neighbour has a fax machine. She's taking her special book over there now.'

‘Her special book?'

‘Yes, apparently it's covered in blue velvet, blue is the colour of communication, you know.'

‘Right.'

‘Personally I don't give a shit what it's covered in as long as what's inside has the information we're looking for.'

‘What about the one Susan went to?'

‘The woman I spoke to sounded more in touch with this millennium. She had electronic records but they were stored on disks and she needed to find them.'

‘She knew where they were?'

‘She thought so. She was going to look and ring me back.'

The fax machine chugged into life. They stood there, holding their breath as the pages started to churn out. Phil snatched the first one off and turned it over. It was covered in neat lines of cursive; name, address, phone number, the type of stall they were running and their payment details. It was a beautiful thing. They stood grinning at each other. The fax machine went silent. Phil grabbed the rest of the sheets and they went back to their desks.

‘Give me half and I'll start running some names as well,' Ed said.

‘Are you allowed to?' Phil asked, jerking her head in the direction of Sorenson's office.

‘Yeah, I have the nod to help you until Byrnes and Rawlinson show up. After that I'm officially the invisible man.'

They sat in front of their computers. For the next half an hour they plugged away in silence, entering name after name and searching for criminal records. Other officers came and went around them. Samuels hovered for a while, being nosy, but they both ignored him and eventually he drifted away. Phil's phone buzzed, making them jump.

‘Detective Steiner. Ah, Cheryl, thanks for calling back. How did you go? Excellent! That's great. Can you send them through? You can? Terrific.'

She reeled off her email address and ended the call.

‘She found them?'

‘Yep, all the records were on one disk, stallholders, contractors and organisers. She's sending it all through now.'

‘The gods might finally be smiling on us,' Ed said.

‘I really hope so. Here it is. I'll print it out now.'

Ed waited impatiently for the files to print. He grabbed the sheets.

‘They're not as thorough as the velvet book woman's but they're enough to start some cross-checks.'

‘Yeah, we can narrow our search to the ones that were at both.'

‘I'll read off this list and you check the velvet book for matches.'

They were both rigid with tension. They were on the hunt and could sense they were getting close. Slowly and meticulously they started going through the two lists. Every time they hit a common name, Ed made a note. After about twenty minutes they were done. They had seventeen names plus two companies that had provided services for both; one did waste disposal, the other promotional materials.

‘We don't have time to look at the companies but I reckon we can run the other names before CS show up,' Phil said.

‘Let's do it. I've already run a couple. Split the rest and let's get moving.'

They frantically started to plug the details in. Half an hour later, they were finished.

‘I got one with a DUI, one with a sealed juvie record and one with an assault. You?' Phil asked.

‘I only got one, but it's a good one. Jason Weissman, thirty-one, restraining orders, assault, sexual assault. He's a real gem and you want to know the best bit? He's practically local. He lives in Mount Compass.' Ed sat back, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity.

‘That's got to be our guy. What did he do at the expos?' Phil asked.

Ed rummaged through the papers. ‘Velvet book has him down as a reiki massage therapist.'

‘Great, just the sort of guy you want giving women massages. Did Susan have a massage?' She asked the question reluctantly.

Ed sat there for a few seconds, staring into space. ‘I can't remember her mentioning it but she liked a good massage.'

Phil sighed. ‘I'm really sorry, Ed.'

‘Yeah, me too but at least we're gonna get the bastard,' Ed said.

‘Yep, when the goons get here we can ask them to look into the case files and see if there's anything about the other vics attending expos. With a bit of luck we can get another hit.'

‘Yeah, and you can start calling Janet Hodgson's colleagues and see if they remember her going to anything like that. You never know, we might just get the full set if we're really lucky.'

‘Fingers crossed, but we should push Sorenson to let us bring this guy in for questioning even without the others,' Phil said.

‘Bring Cass in too and see if she can do an unofficial ID on the guy.'

‘You're kidding right?' Phil snorted. ‘Any ID she gave wouldn't mean shit.'

‘Maybe not, but she could at least give us some kind of confirmation that we had the right guy.'

‘I suppose so. Let me think about it. I'm still coming to grips with all that psychic shit.'

‘Oh great, it's glum and glummer,' Phil muttered, taking in the grim expressions on Detectives Byrnes and Rawlinson's faces as they arrived. ‘So, you're glad to be back here then?'

‘Couldn't be more delighted,' Byrnes said.

Sorenson noticed them and stepped out of her office. She was quick off the mark, not wanting any slanging matches before the briefing.

‘Morning.' She nodded at the CS detectives. ‘Let's go into the meeting room. We've got a lot of ground to cover.'

They settled themselves around the table; Byrnes and Rawlinson on one side, Ed and Phil on the other and Sorenson at the head.

‘Let's get started. As I told you yesterday, Detective Dyson had a hunch that our killer might have been operating in the region for a while. He did some research and came up with four other names who may have been victims of our killer.'

‘You really think you have a serial?' Rawlinson snorted.

‘Yes, we do,' Ed said quietly.

‘You realise that we have experts and computer programs that review all homicides looking for patterns?' Byrnes said.

‘They're not all homicides. Three are missing persons,' Ed said.

‘Same applies,' Byrnes scoffed.

‘Detective Byrnes, this is not personal. We're all on the same team,' Sorenson said, staring him down.

‘What's the connection between the vics?'

Sorenson nodded at Ed to give the details.

‘All the vics went missing or were killed in consecutive years starting in 2008. They all went missing in either June or July and they all had eyes that were a particular shade of green.'

‘Green eyes? That's it? No other similarities?'

‘No.'

There was silence while the two detectives digested the information.

‘How is your supposed serial finding his victims or haven't you had time to work that out yet?' Byrnes's voice was syrupy sweet.

Sorenson shot him a look but let Ed answer him.

‘As a matter of fact, we have. We think he found all the vics by posing as a stallholder at expos. So far we've worked out that two of the vics attended expos shortly before they died or disappeared.'

‘Only two? That's hardly conclusive,' Rawlinson said.

‘True but we have a consultant who works with us who confirmed the expo link between the killer and one of the vics,' Sorenson said.

‘A consultant?'

Ed looked over at Phil, knowing that what was coming wasn't going to be pleasant.

‘She's a psychic. She has an ability to visit a crime scene and see what the vic saw just before they died. She saw and heard the killer at one of the sites she visited,' Sorenson said.

Rawlinson snorted. ‘You're kidding, right?'

Byrnes sat there looking from Sorenson to Ed and Phil then back again. ‘I hope there's a punch line coming because there fucking well should be,' he shouted. He stood up and leant over the table. ‘Do you mean to tell me that you've had a fucking psychic running around the crime scenes?' He thumped his fist on the table.

‘Detective, sit down!' Sorenson yelled. ‘And moderate your tone or I'll have you on report.'

He sat, folding his arms across his chest and staring venomously at the Fairfield officers.

‘The psychic Ed used is reliable and discreet. There is no issue with her. Assuming the whole squad room hasn't heard you yelling, the only people that know of her involvement are in this room. Now if you don't mind, we'll finish this briefing.' Her eyes were like shards of blue ice as she looked around the room. Her comment was greeted by silence so full of tension the air practically rippled with it.

‘Right, there are a few more things we need to cover. Phil, did you find anything this morning?'

‘Yeah, we got lucky. We reckon we have a possible suspect. He was a stallholder at the expos that two of the vics attended and he has a record a mile long that includes violent and sexual assault. He also lives around here.'

‘We think it's worth bringing him in for questioning,' Ed said.

‘You do realise that we'll be taking over this case now that it's a Tier 3?' Byrnes asked.

Phil started to reply but Sorenson cut her short.