“That’s not what I meant.”
“I can switch off when we get children, which is why I do them myself,” he said, drying his hands on a paper towel. “That hit-and-run didn’t bother me. I feel sorry for the young constable who had to go and tell the parents.”
Anya had always been amazed by Peter’s clinical detachment. As a mother, she found autopsies on children very difficult. Out of all the pathologists, Peter seemed most skilled at suspending his emotions when work demanded.
He clapped his hands together. “How about some tea?”
“Love one. I’ll meet you in your office.”
Peter arrived shortly after Anya having changed into a lime-green shirt and yellow tie. Brown corduroy trousers complemented the look. He put two teas on the desk and closed the door, something he rarely did.
He moved a pile of papers from the spare chair next to Anya’s and sat.
“What happened to your med student researcher?” Anya asked.
“Ah, Zara Chambers. Did an outstanding thesis. She’s completing her medical degree but something tells me she’ll be back again.”
As they began to sip, Peter seemed somber.
“Rumors are circulating that you’re investigating Alf Carney.”
Anya almost spilt her drink.
“I’m not investigating anyone. Morgan Tully asked for a second opinion on some cases and that’s all. It’s nothing unusual. We’ve all been asked to review each other’s work.”
“I suspect there’s more to it than that,” he said, looking up.
“Then you must know something I don’t.” Anya disliked playing word games, especially with her friends.
Peter sat back and put his glasses on top of his head. “Morgan’s placed you in a very difficult position. I’ve known Alf for years, but there have been whispers about him from police for a while now.”
“And you knew his findings were dubious?”
“I just wanted any examination of his conduct to be fair and objective. That’s why I suggested you to Morgan.”
Anya sat back against the desk. “You knew, and you
Peter rubbed his salt-and-pepper beard. “It’s not easy to scrutinize a colleague when the consequences could destroy a career. It’ll put you under pressure, but you can definitely handle it, and your expertise is without question.”
“What are you really saying?”
“Alf’s had a long career and has made enemies in the process. We all have, whenever there’s been a controversial decision. He hasn’t had an easy time of it. I’m a little concerned there is a political motive within the College of Pathologists to stop him working, and you could be part of the fall-out.”
Anya didn’t like where this conversation was heading. She suddenly felt uncomfortable and disappointed in her former teacher. Putting down the cup, she said, “Sorry, but I can’t stay for lunch.”
Peter Latham stood. “I’m not trying to influence you, Anya. I’m afraid you misunderstood. If Alf is incompetent, things could become difficult and the implications are enormous, for all of us, and God knows how many convicted prisoners. I’m saying that if you need some support or help, I’m available.”
22
Mary Singer came into the room, uncharacteristically flustered. In her hands, she held the newspaper. “Have you seen this?”
Anya studied the front page of the
The headline read,
As she scanned the first few paragraphs, she felt a chill. Elizabeth Dorman had been found brutally stabbed to death in her Kellyville home.
Anya stopped reading. It was the woman from last week. The one who’d given the false phone number. “Just Elizabeth” had been mutilated.
Mary said, “Do you think it could be related to the sexual assault?”
Anya felt numb. “You’d have to wonder.”
Attacked a week ago, and murdered-with a knife-last night.
She read the rest of the article. Liz Dorman’s boyfriend, a band member, was performing at a local pub and returned home at two a.m. to find the body in a pool of blood on the lounge-room floor. Parts of the room were damaged, suggesting that Ms. Dorman had fought her attacker.
“The poor woman.” Mary had tears in her eyes. “I didn’t push her to stay, she kept saying she had to go.”
Anya thought for a moment. It was too much of a coincidence, to have been raped a week earlier and then murdered. From the way she’d behaved, it was possible that Elizabeth had known her attacker, which is perhaps why he’d returned.
“I’ve got to let the police know that she came here.”
“What about confidentiality?” Mary wiped her eyes.
Drumming her fingers on the desk, Anya said, “Our duty to Elizabeth doesn’t end with her death, but we have a duty to the community as well. The police need to know about the assault. Without it, they’re probably suspecting the boyfriend. And it may help prevent someone else getting killed.”
“Or maybe the boyfriend did do it. We should have paid more attention to the signs-too afraid to talk about her attack, the inappropriate clothing that covered her. Domestic violence was a definite possibility.”
Mary closed her eyes and said a prayer, something she hadn’t done in front of colleagues before. Anya understood that Mary felt somehow responsible for not looking after Liz Dorman better, even though she had done all she could at the time.
She dialled homicide.
Hayden Richards, Meira Sorrenti and two homicide detectives stood outside the Kellyville house. Though this was essentially a homicide investigation, any possible link to a sexual assault needed to be thoroughly investigated.
Local newspapers lay on the front lawn, and the letterbox was stuffed with catalogues and junk mail. It appeared like any other suburban home, except for the crime-scene tape surrounding the perimeter.
The area was filled with “McMansions,” as they were known in the press. Rows of similar homes, designed to fill almost every inch of the small blocks of land. Gone were the backyards, replaced with two storys, four bedrooms, a rumpus room and double garage. In an area where heat could be searing, every home had an air- conditioner, which attracted the ire of environmentalists and beach-dwellers who were lucky enough to enjoy an ocean breeze. Their criticisms filled the letters pages of the local newspapers.
As a mother, Anya could understand the trend toward a bigger home with more space, even without children. With the burden of mortgages, people couldn’t afford to go out that much, so home became the entertainment center of their world. Time otherwise spent on a garden went toward enjoying movies on home cinemas. Or so the theory went. The irony was that families felt safer closed off from their neighbors, but these areas led the state’s crime figures for break-and-enters.
Anya hesitated before getting out of the car. Like Mary, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about a death that might have been prevented. Even if she had no idea what more could have been done.
“What are you doing here?” Meira glared.
“She’s the only one of us who saw the victim alive and she’s still a pathologist. At this stage,” Hayden said, “we need all the help we can get.”
Cars slowed to a crawl as they passed by, some passengers straining to take photos of the site of a tragedy.
