‘No one slept in there.’
‘Then who cleaned it last and when? It must have been recently. You can smell the air freshener. Why do you need to clean and put air freshener into a room no one uses?’
‘I don’t know. I…’ Marie stopped, not knowing what to say.
Another of Borghini’s people appeared in the hallway. ‘Something else you need to see,’ she said to him quietly.
In the main bedroom, an ornate Chinese cabinet stood open on the dressing table. Beside it was a shiny, silver-edged mirror, a razor blade with a silver edge matching the mirror’s and a thin silver straw, similarly decorated. The silverwork was delicately, intricately made.
‘We found those in the cabinet,’ the officer said.
‘Are these yours?’ Borghini asked Marie.
‘No. I don’t know what they are.’
‘If they’re not yours, can you tell me how they might have got here?’
She shook her head dumbly. She had tears in her eyes.
‘Perhaps someone put them there. A visitor who didn’t like me. I don’t know.’
‘We found this as well,’ one of the other plain-clothes officers said. He was holding a black silk pouch peeled open to reveal several broken lumps of cocaine in a plastic bag. It looked like a stash kept for personal use.
Grace glanced around the room once more. On the dressing table were vases of white roses mixed with smaller flowers, dark blue in colour. A silk and lace negligee lay thrown over a chair, waiting for someone to slip it on. The negligee was for two to enjoy; the cocaine seemed to be only for one. And not Marie.
‘Marie, why don’t you take a seat back out in the kitchen?’ Borghini said. ‘We’ll keep looking through here and then we’ll need to ask you some more questions. I’m afraid we’ll be keeping you for a while yet. Maybe you’d like to have a cup of coffee while you’re waiting. We’ll get to you as soon as we can.’
‘Can I call someone? I want to call someone.’
‘Who do you want to call?’
‘In these circumstances, who do you think?’ Kidd said. It was the first time he’d spoken. ‘Your family. A lawyer.’
‘I’ll call my brother,’ Marie said. ‘Can I do that?’
Grace wasn’t certain who she was asking.
‘You can do that if you want to,’ Borghini told her. ‘But I’m going to ask you not to leave the premises. If you go and sit down now and make your call, we’ll keep searching in here. I’ll send someone to look after you.’
Marie turned to leave the room. She bumped against the uniformed policewoman as if she hadn’t seen her, then glanced around confused. She saw Kidd and looked away. The policewoman guided her out.
‘I think that might be it for me tonight,’ Grace said. ‘This isn’t my field.’
‘No problem.’ Borghini dredged up a smile, presumably pleased to have her out from under his feet. ‘Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow? I’ll let you know how we finished up here and what we’re going to do next.’
‘I’ll do that, thanks.’
Passing the kitchen, she saw Marie sitting at the table, crying while she tried to call a number on her phone. The policewoman sat with her, watching. Kidd, following Grace, went back to his place leaning against the bench. Grace guessed he wanted to listen to whatever Marie Li was going to say on the phone. Ignoring Clive’s instructions to watch him, she walked out of the flat, feeling his eyes on her back.
Downstairs in the reception area, some of the workers were readying to leave. The police had finished their questioning. There was a low buzz of conversation. Lynette, the receptionist, was sitting at the desk flicking half- heartedly through a magazine. Grace went over to her.
‘Lynette,’ she said. ‘Is that who you are?’
‘I’ve already told the police that. Who are you?’
‘Grace Riordan. I’m with the police.’
Lynette looked up at her, polite but ungiving. She was older than Grace had thought, at least fifty. They were interrupted by a chorus of ‘Night, Lynette,’ as the workers left, moving in a small group past the reception desk.
‘You take care out there,’ Lynette called back, watching the women out the door before turning back to Grace. ‘What do you want? I’ve already given you people all my details.’
‘You look like a professional to me,’ Grace said. ‘You’ve been in this business a lot longer than Marie Li, haven’t you? You were doing this when she was in nappies. Now she’s your boss. Do you like that situation? Or do you have to do things you’d normally never do under any other circumstances?’
The woman said nothing, only stared. Grace saw the same fear in her eyes that she’d seen in Marie Li’s.
‘Take this,’ she said and offered a card that had nothing on it but a phone number.
‘What is it?’
‘A contact number. Put it away out of sight.’
The card disappeared into Lynette’s bag. ‘I thought you were with the police.’
‘I want to show you something. This is Coco after we found her.’
Grace slid a photograph across the desk: Coco lying in the scrub in the Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park.
‘Oh, Christ.’ Lynette closed her eyes and covered her mouth.
Grace picked up the photograph and put it back in her bag. ‘I want to know who did that to her. Who is she, and where did she come from?’
Lynette still had her eyes closed. She shook her head.
‘I’ve never seen her before.’
‘Yes, you have. Don’t think anyone believes you when you say that. And don’t think this is going to go away. We’re going to keep coming back and we’re going to keep asking questions. You’re going to be asked to come in for questioning and that questioning is going to go on for hours. We’re going to talk to all your workers. Some of them will have seen something. Besides that,’ Grace said, ‘you saw Coco in that picture. Think about the people who did that. How do you know they won’t see you as a weak link? And if they do, what are they going to do about it? Do you want to trust them? Or do you want us to offer you some protection?’
‘I can’t talk to you here,’ Lynette said, barely audibly.
‘But she was here.’
The woman had folded her arms close about herself and was staring down into her lap. Very faintly, she nodded.
‘If you want to talk to me in complete privacy, with a promise of complete confidentiality, you can ring that number any time you like. No one has to know you’ve called me. Just ask for me by my first name. If you’re a witness, we may be able to get you immunity. If you need protection, we’ll arrange it.’
The woman looked up, shaking her head, her mouth slightly open. Her make-up seemed old and her eyes were moist as if she might cry. At that moment, Kidd walked into the reception area and came up to the desk.
‘What are you two talking about?’
‘I want to know if Lynette has a book with her workers’ photographs,’ Grace replied. ‘So far she’s been telling me to mind my own business.’
Lynette placed a leather-bound photograph album on the desk.
‘Everyone in there is legal,’ she said. ‘Have a look.’
Grace flicked through, finding the workers Doug had described. A number of Asian women and one African, all very lovely, none of whom had been at work tonight.
‘Satisfied?’ Lynette asked.
‘You have some very attractive workers. I’m sure they bring in the clients.’
‘That’s what we do here-bring in clients.’
‘But not tonight. You had customers waiting.’
‘I was expecting a quiet night. I care about my ladies’ welfare and I make sure they have adequate time off.’
‘Then I’ll say good night,’ Grace said.
She walked out, giving Kidd and Lynette one last backward glance. Lynette was staring into the distance. It was impossible to say if she knew Kidd or not. He was looking after Grace, angry, suspicious.
