luminol. We’re looking for traces of blood and need to darken the room.”
“No one moves. My lawyer’s on his way. He’ll be here any minute.”
“I’m afraid he’ll have to wait outside as well, ma’am, civilians in darkened rooms is against occupational health and safety regulations.”
Noelene Harbourn stared at the CSO. “Health regulations? Now that’s priceless. Where the hell did you beam down from?”
“Sorry to cut short this little chitchat, but we’ve got work to do,” Zimmer said, and headed for the first bedroom. Liz Gould joined them. The family moved into the corridor while Milo examined the lounge room.
After about ten minutes, Zimmer emerged with a bag containing something. “Two shirts and a singlet in the wardrobe had a hit.”
Maybe the Harbourns were more stupid than they had thought.
As they moved on to the next room, the uniformed officer returned through the front door, accompanying Gary Harbourn, who was dressed only in red underpants.
Kate folded her arms. “Why did you run?”
“It’s a nice morning. Felt like a jog.”
If he did kill Rachel, he wasn’t remotely fazed about being caught.
“In your underwear, without shoes, over the back fence?”
“I’m a spontaneous kind of guy,” he grinned.
“Good to know,” Kate said and stepped closer, as if confiding in him. “Cause impulsive people tend to leave evidence at crime scenes. Where were you the night of the fifteenth?”
Gary didn’t react. The arrogance and smugness was unbelievable. If he was at the Goodwin house that night, he was facing a murder charge and knew it.
Noelene Harbourn moved forward. “All the children were home with me. That was the night they got out of prison.”
The same day Giverny Hart died. Kate tightened the grip on her own arms. “I thought you had a street party? You mean to say that none of you left the house that night?” She had seen the news footage of them in the street celebrating Giverny’s death. So would a jury.
“No, but they stayed on the street, and I can produce at least ten people who can say exactly the same thing.”
“I’ll be needing their names,” she said and pulled out her notebook.
Noelene rattled off the names of her other children, who moved silently back into the lounge room. Including her, that made seven family members who would give Gary an alibi.
Kate knew that’s why prosecuting them had been so difficult. So far, the family bond had been unbreakable, even if it meant serving time in prison for a crime a sibling committed-a perverse honor system for the utterly dishonorable.
Two hours later they had just about finished the search without finding anything else. Frustrated, Kate took one last look, in case they’d missed something-anything-that could incriminate the killers. The place was deteriorating, but Gary’s room was worse than the others. Dirty fingermarks covered and surrounded every light switch, but in his room, the power points at floor level had scratches in the paint around them. She called Liz, who ran her stud finder around it.
It buzzed, as if metal was behind.
Kate pulled out her pocketknife, knelt down and levered off the cover. In the recess behind, she carefully reached in, and felt the plastic bag. She slowly pulled it out and held it up in almost disbelief. Inside were a knife and a pair of women’s underpants.
Liz Gould used the dental mirror and shone a torch inside. There’s another bag. Inside were two hand guns and boxes of ammunition, all stuffed into the secret hideaway.
Rechecking the other power points revealed various quantities of hash and tablets in sealed plastic bags.
Kate held up the stash and stared at the faces of the males in the lounge room. Gary was definitely at the Goodwin house, Sophie had confirmed it. But which other family members took part in the rapes and killing?
They all stood defiant. Despite the evidence, the Harbourns were sticking together.
16
Anya pulled the document from the fax machine. Jeff Sales had completed his report on the fossilized baby.
She switched on the desk lamp, sat and read. The internal organs had undergone some degree of deterioration but it had been possible to biopsy sections of liver, brain, stomach, heart and kidney. Understandably, after many years and no history to go by, it was difficult to establish much about the cause of death. However, there appeared to be no evidence of physical trauma to the skeletal remains.
The attempt to collect milk from the stomach had been unsuccessful. So it wasn’t possible to establish whether the baby had lived long enough to feed. One section of the report immediately caught Anya’s attention.
Behind the left eye was an unidentified retro-orbital mass. It was unclear whether or not it extended from the brain tissue given the state of internal deterioration. X-rays revealed minor asymmetry of the orbit, with thinner bone on that side. Histology could take weeks to complete, given the fragile state and special fixative processes required to make a definitive diagnosis under the circumstances.
It appeared the infant had some form of intracranial tumor, which could well have been the cause of death.
To be noticeable on gross examination, the tumor had to have been significant. In that case, probability was, the baby had died of natural causes. She may never have taken a breath.
At least Dan Brody would be spared a homicide investigation involving someone in his family. The mystery of whose baby it was remained, but the answer was now academic. There would be no police involvement or public coronial inquest. She reached for the phone to call him when a new page arrived through the fax.
DNA analysis from the private testing facility confirmed the remains were those of a female. The DNA provided by Dan Brody bore similarities to that of the sampled remains. That wasn’t surprising if his grandfather had had an illegitimate child.
The next sentence explained in more detail. Mr. Brody and the remains shared mitochondrial DNA. In other words, they both had the same mother, aunt or grandmother. One of them had carried a child and hidden its dead body in a box in the wardrobe, and if Milo was right about the age of the wooden box, it had to have been Dan’s mother.
Anya wasn’t sure how to explain that to Dan. He spoke of his mother as if she were a saint, and had mentioned his parents were childhood sweethearts-first and only loves.
DNA may have proven a different story.
She rubbed her temples and dialed Brody’s number.
Half an hour later he pulled up in his red Ferrari. Only Brody would personalize his numberplate with LAW4L, as if the car didn’t attract enough attention on its own. The sound of big band music blaring from the speakers let her know he had arrived. Thankfully, for the neighbors’ sake, he had chosen to lower the bass levels.
She poured two glasses from a bottle of red wine and answered the door. Her neck began to itch from the hivelike rash she got every time she was nervous.
“Thanks for coming,” she said, and ushered him in.
“Couldn’t keep me away, that is if the body is still at the morgue.” He quickly glanced around and Anya wondered which of them was more uncomfortable.
“I’ve poured a glass of wine if you’d like.”
“That would be great. It’s been a long day in court.”
When Anya returned from the kitchen, Dan was holding a picture of her son, Ben. “He’s really growing.”
Ben was and she couldn’t wait to see him the following Friday and hear about the rest of the trip. She suddenly remembered the bookcase still in pieces upstairs. It would have to wait.
Dan took off his tailored jacket and draped it lining side out on the end of the lounge. He accepted the wine and
