Kittyhawk Down ic-2 Read online

  Challis rubbed his face tiredly. 'Come down to the station tomorrow and give a statement, okay?'

  'Sure, no drama.'

  Challis watched the guard wheel out of the aerodrome in a little white van, then turned reluctantly back to the hangar. The crime scene technicians were working the corner where the body lay. Ellen Destry watched from the sidelines, looking up as she sensed his approach. She crossed toward him as though to head him off.

  'Nasty one, Hal.' She paused, cocking her head in concern. 'You okay?'

  Challis nodded. 'I want a doorknock of the houses out on the main road. They're a bit far away, and used to people coming and going here, but someone might have seen or heard something.'

  'Seen Ian Munro, you mean. This has to be him, doesn't it?'

  Challis turned on her irritably and said, 'Nothing has to be anything, Ellen,' and immediately wondered what he'd meant.

  She backed away, hands up placatingly. 'All right, stay cool, I'll get onto it.'

  'Then I want you to come with me to speak to the husband.'

  'You don't think it was him, surely?'

  The irritation came back into his voice before he could stop himself. 'He has to be told, doesn't he?'

  As their tyres growled softly along the loose gravel of the Casements' driveway, Ellen said, 'He'd have to be wondering where she is by now.'

  Challis was slumped against the passenger door. He'd not said a word since getting into the car. Now he roused himself, rubbed his hands raspingly over his face. 'Not necessarily. She often worked late. And he's apparently on the Net day and night.'

  They parked, knocked on the front door, and then in unison turned on the doorstep and looked out at the distant bay. The water lay dense and black but lit here and there by the moon, while beyond the dark mass lay Phillip Island, full of twinkling lights.

  They'd not heard footsteps but a spotlight illuminating the driveway and doorstep went on and a latch was turned. Rex Casement swung open the door, blinked as the light hit him, and stared past them into the gloom. He seemed dazed- exactly, Challis thought, like a man dragged away from an obsession.

  'Who… I was… are you…?' Casement said.

  Ellen moved toward him and said gently, 'May we come in, Mr Casement?'

  Casement recovered and said, 'Is anything wrong? I was on the Net,' he added, glancing at them in turn. 'I don't think Kitty's home yet, actually.'

  He wore tracksuit pants, slippers and what looked like a pyjama top under a fleecy striped football jumper. His hair was badly tufted and even as Challis watched he tugged at a clump of it. Maybe he'd made a bad on-line investment, Challis thought.

  'Actually it's you we've come to see, Mr Casement,' Ellen said.

  Frowning doubtfully, Casement took them to the kitchen. 'This is the cheeriest room at night, hope you don't mind. Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?'

  He was washing his hands as though to stave off the inevitable, and when Challis told him the reason for the visit, he stopped fussing at the sink and collapsed into a chair. 'Oh no, oh no.' He looked up. 'Shot?'

  'Yes.'

  'This Munro character did it?'

  'Mr Casement,' Ellen said, 'I realise this is a distressing time, but I have to ask you what your movements were this evening.'

  Casement turned to her, jaw open, making a massive effort to comprehend her. 'Me?'

  'Yes.'

  'I was here, working.'

  'On the Internet?'

  'Yes. Why?'

  'You didn't go out at all?'

  'No.'

  'Do you have a separate phone line for the Net?'

  'Yes.'

  'Did anyone ring you this evening?'

  'Not that I recall. There's an answering machine.' He crossed to what appeared to be an all-purpose corner of the kitchen bench: notices fluttering from a little pinboard, Rolodex, scrap paper and pens, phone and answering machine. He pressed a button and the machine beeped and they heard Kitty Casement say that she'd be working late.

  Casement sobbed and swung away, returning to his chair at the table.

  'Did you go out this evening?'

  Challis saw a change pass across Casement's face, dazed grief giving way to incredulity. 'You're checking me out? That's a bit harsh.'

  'No it's not,' said Challis evenly. 'It's statistically likely, and we're obliged to ask.'

  'If you bastards had arrested Munro this wouldn't-'

  Challis cut in. 'Can you think of anyone else who might have wanted to harm your wife?'

  'Apart from Munro? No. He's the obvious one, so why are you questioning me? Leave me alone. Go on, piss off and catch-'

  Ellen touched his arm. 'Is there anyone we can contact for you, Mr Casement? Friend, neighbour, relative?'

  'I'd rather be by myself,' Casement said, diminished by the night and the solitude that was coming for him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  It was fully dark and Pike was in a real state when he got to Lisa's. They let him in, Venn was there, and they were high as kites as usual.

  'Well, if it isn't young Bradley,' Venn said, when Lisa ushered him into the sitting room. Donna scowled at him. Lisa herself could have been a bit warmer. They were all looking at him like he was a bad smell.

  And he wished Dwayne wouldn't keep saying the same thing each time he visited. 'Change the record, Dwayne,' Pike said, keeping his voice light and cheery, rubbing his hands together dryly. The place smelt of dope and dirty clothing, like they hadn't been out for days. Probably hadn't. When was he last here? Yesterday? Day before? They were really coked up, so he said, 'Looks like I've got some catching up to do.'

  And that's what he did for the next hour. Smoked dope, drank Jim Beam, and when he was well blissed out, ticking over nicely, too sluggish to move, he caught Venn exchanging glances with the Tully sisters. 'What?' he slurred.

  'We got some new stuff for you to try,' Lisa said.

  She went out and came back with a syringe. 'This is good stuff.'

  'What is it?'

  She tapped the side of her nose and grinned like she was really pumped about something. 'Wait and see, lover boy.'

  He liked the way she said that. Then she sat on the sofa, patted the cushions. 'Come on, your turn, we've had stacks.'

  Gratified, Pike collapsed onto the sofa next to her and flexed his arm, tied it off with a length of rubber tubing supplied by Donna, tapped a vein.

  Lisa got closer. Her thigh was warm against him. 'Now,' she breathed, 'want me to do it for you?'

  That was an ultimate act of love and he nodded and watched her slide the needle in and depress the plunger. He tore his eyes away and, waiting for the rush, said to her, 'Lisa, I'm sorry I jacked up about that intervention order you took out on me.'

  'That's all right.'

  'Shouldn't of forced you to go through all that stuff in court again. I could see you was really cut.'

  'No drama.'

  Then she walked away from him and joined the others, all three of them now standing in a line, watching him as if from a great distance.

  'What?' he said.

  'It's not working,' Lisa said.

  'Give it time,' Venn said.

  They continued to watch. Pike tried to move but was too sleepy, too relaxed. The stuff in his veins wasn't doing anything, however. There was a kind of discomfort, that's all, maybe a faint burning sensation, very faint.

  From far away he heard Donna hiss, 'It's not working.'

  'It has to work,' Venn said. 'It's battery acid.'

  They watched, and Pike thought, acid? Haven't had a good acid trip in a while.

  He felt drowsy, but jumpy too, and tried to focus on their faces. 'Talk to me.'

  'You're a pest and a nuisance, Brad,' Lisa said.

  'Don't say that.'

  'You been following us around,' Donna said. 'Stalking us.'

  Hurt, Pike said, 'Haven't.'

  Venn was all sharpness and hard angles. 'You're a maggot, a dog. You dobbed me in to the cops
.'

  'No way.'

  'You're going to die, Brad, and good riddance,' Donna said. 'There was real acid in that needle.'

  'What a blast,' Pike said.

  'No, I mean real acid, like we did experiments with in the lab at school. From that car place Dwayne works at,' Donna said nastily. 'It's going to eat your insides out.'

  The truth got through to Pike eventually and he stirred, rising from the sofa. 'I need to go to the hospital.'

  Venn pushed him down. 'No way known.'

  'Not till you tell me what you done to Jasmine,' Lisa said.

  Pike glanced at them one by one. 'Is it true?'

  'Is what true?'

  'You put fucking battery acid in me?'

  'Yep.'

  'Take me to the doctor. Please.'

  'Not till you tell us what you did to my niece,' Donna said, the words 'my niece' giving her a little prideful lift.

  'And not till you tell me you dobbed me in to the cops,' Venn said.

  Pike thrashed around on the sofa, in fear and pain now, and said, 'It was an accident, all right? We were mucking around and something happened.'

  Lisa's eyes narrowed. 'What kind of mucking around?'

  'On the carpet, you know, playing horsey and that, tickling and wrestling and that.'

  'You had sex with her,' screeched Lisa.' You had sex with my baby.'

  'I never.'

  'You did.'

  'Yeah, you did, Brad,' Donna said.

  'She went all floppy on me. I think her neck got broke,' Pike said. 'Anyway, you shouldn't of left her with me. She wasn't my kid. What do I know about little kids? It's all your fault, fucking slag.'

  Lisa groaned. 'Where is she?'

  'Don't worry, I give her a decent burial. Over by the boardwalk.' Which crossed mangrove swamps and was an area of crabs, gluey mud, sucking tides and scraps of plastic and paper.

  Lisa began to sob, her hands over her face.

  'Take me to the hospital. At least call an ambulance,' Pike said.

  Venn looked at the women. 'The acid's not working.'

  'I told you that,' Donna said.

  Venn went out and came back with a baseball bat and swung it at Pike's head. It struck him obliquely and curved downwards at a tangent to splinter against the edge of the coffee table. Pike grunted, swayed, fell to his knees. There was blood. He felt bad, inside and out, and looked up blindly through the blood. 'Don't hit me. I told ya, I'm sorry, okay? Get me to the doctor.'

  'Now the fucking bat's broke,' Venn muttered. His voice was far away. 'Still don't know if he dobbed me in to the cops or not. Did you?' he screamed, poking Pike with the jagged end of the bat handle.

  'I know,' Donna said eagerly, and Pike heard her rummage in a drawer. Then she was next to him on the floor, slipping a plastic bag over his head. He heard her say, 'This'll work,' before the plastic sucked wetly to his nostrils and lips and sealed him off against the world.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  On Thursday morning, Aileen Munro said, 'You again.'

  'I don't have time for this,' Challis said. 'Last time I was here you told me that you never have visitors.'

  'We don't.'

  Ellen leaned forward. 'Aileen, on Tuesday Carl Lister came to see you.'

  'Well, yes.'

  'So you do have visitors from time to time.'

  'But he's a neighbour. He lives up the road in one of them big houses on the ridge.'

  'Has he been a regular visitor?'

  'You don't call them visitors when they're your neighbour,' she muttered at the floor, then looked up and said, 'He pops in now and then.'

  'Sits down and has a cup of tea with you?' Challis asked.

  'Not really. They weren't that kind of visit.'

  'What kind were they then?'

  'He always come to ask Ian a favour,' Aileen said. 'Like, could Ian take his tractor up there and slash his grass for him, or he was bogged and could Ian come and pull him out, that kind of thing.' She folded her arms aggrievedly. 'He wasn't visiting. It was work, kind of thing.'

  'Work,' Challis said, his lean face prohibitive in the dim light. Since Kitty's murder he'd felt close to heartsick and was barely hiding it.

  'Yeah, work.'

  'Did Lister help your husband to grow the marijuana?'

  'I told you, I never knew about that. Why don't you believe me?'

  'Were they partners?'

  'I'm not answering any more of your stupid questions if you don't believe what I say.'

  'Or did Lister pay your husband to grow the marijuana?'

  Aileen Munro assumed the behaviour of a stubborn child, humming loudly to block out their voices, tapping her foot and gazing about the room. It irritated Challis even as he understood the reason for it.

  'Mrs Munro, did Ian go off somewhere with Lister on Easter Saturday?'

  She frowned. 'Might of done. Can't remember.'

  'Did they say anything about going to one of the beaches?'

  'One of the beaches?' Aileen was dumbfounded. 'What, like fishing?'

  'Or for a walk, something like that.'

  Aileen shook her head in wonder. 'I've never seen Ian within cooee of a beach.'

  'Did Ian ever make deliveries for Lister, or fetch things for him?'

  She screwed her face up in doubt that merged into disbelief. 'Nah.'

  'You never saw him with packages?'

  'Nup.'

  'Did Ian take drugs?'

  Aileen drew herself up, as though the question reflected badly on her or the choices she'd made in life. 'Never.'

  Ellen said, 'Aileen, where is Ian now?'

  'Haven't the foggiest.'

  'Is he with Mr Lister? Is Mr Lister hiding him?'

  'You'll have to ask him.'

  Challis said, 'What did Lister want with you yesterday?'

  'Dropped in to see how I was getting on.'

  They gazed at her, wanting, expecting more, and were rewarded when she said into the silence: 'Asked me about you lot.'

  Challis sat back and watched her levelly with a half-smile. 'Asked just out of passing interest, or was it more than that?'

  She thought about it. 'He seemed a bit bothered.'

  'About what, exactly?'

  'He asked the kind of questions you've been asking. Did I know about the marijuana. Did I know what Ian had been up to. Had I told the police anything. I thought he was just being nosy.'

  Then she muttered something and went pink.

  Challis snapped forward. 'I didn't catch that, Aileen.'

  She glared at him defiantly. 'He give me some money.'

  'How much?'

  'Hundred dollars.'

  Challis guessed a few hundred. 'Did he say why?'

  'In case I need anything. Ian did all the banking and stuff.'

  'Did he place conditions on the loan?'

  'Wasn't a loan!'

  'Was it hush money, is what the inspector is asking,' Ellen said. 'In other words, did he ask you not to tell the police certain things?'

  'He said the police don't have to know all my dirty wash Aileen Munro said sulkily. Then: 'Will I have to give it back?'

  Challis shook his head. 'Keep it.'

  'Good, because it'd be useful. For the bills and that.'

  In the car afterwards, Ellen said, 'They were growing marijuana together, or Munro was growing it on Lister's behalf. Then the aerial photograph turns up and they destroy the crop in a hurry, or at least remove the plants and put them somewhere to dry, assuming the plants were ready for drying and processing.'

  'But now they can't risk growing another crop,' Challis said, taking up the narrative, 'in case it's spotted from the air again.'

  'So they switch to something else: ecstasy, cocaine, amphetamines, heroin, dropped off at sea.'

  'But there's rough weather and one of their shipments is washed away or destroyed.'

  They fell silent. Scobie was driving, and now he said, 'But how long have they been doing it? Was this the first time? For
that matter, was the stuff washed away, or were the goods maybe snatched by someone else?'

  Challis pictured Tessa Kane on her Easter walk, trudging along a lonely beach, a strong wind kicking sand into her eyes. A Toyota pickup appears, Munro and Lister inside, clearly angry and suspecting that their drugs shipment had been stolen.

  Had the marijuana crop been stolen from them too?

  Had Kitty Casement recognised the crop and harvested the plants under the cover of darkness? Had she then monitored Munro's and Lister's movements and got to the seaborne drugs first?

  Challis was not surprised to hear Ellen ask, 'Have we got a turf war on our hands?'

  Or to hear Sutton ask, 'Do we know anything about Kitty Casement's husband?'

  'The smell,' Ellen said suddenly.

  'What smell?' Challis said, even as his skin tingled and the hairs stood up on his neck, responding to her.

  'There's a distinct chemical smell in the air around Lister's place.'

  Challis continued to register the stirring of his skin. 'You're right, I noticed it too.'

  'A lab?' Scobie said. 'He's cooking speed in a hidden lab?'

  'Cooking something,' Ellen said.

  They had reached High Street and the roundabout. 'But where's his lab? I didn't see any sheds there the other day,' Challis said.

  'If you walk further along the fenceline you can glimpse part of the grounds at the rear of the house,' Ellen said. 'It's been landscaped, sort of terraced, with cement structures set in the ground. I'd assumed they were retaining walls or underground rainwater tanks, but they could be a laboratory.'

  Scobie Sutton mused on it as he parked the car. 'These guys like to steal sinus tablets and process them in labs.'

  Challis nodded. They crossed the asphalt surface to the back door of the station.

  Sutton went on: 'So was Lister leaving the finished product to be collected, or was he taking delivery of sinus tablets?'

  'Don't really know, Scobe,' Ellen said. She grew tired of Sutton sometimes.

  Challis stopped suddenly. The others collided with him. 'Hal?' Ellen said, steadying herself, one hand on his upper arm.

  'The beach.'

  'What about it?'

  'Miles of coastline,' Challis said, 'and none of it's been searched. We've been looking for Munro in the wrong place.'