It slowed as it went past the gate, but by then I was paying more attention to the white one in the driveway.’
‘Did you get the registration?’
‘Forgot. I was too scared.’
‘That’s okay, most people forget.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Stay the night, for a start.’
She hugged her upper arms, sat rocking, her knees together. ‘I’m really strung out, Van.’
‘I’ll give you a massage.’
She rounded on him, shouting, ‘I don’t want a fucking massage. I need you to get me some more blow.’
‘Clara, lay off that stuff. You’ve had a shitload since I met you.’
She was scornful, looking him up and down. ‘You want me, right? My cunt?’
‘Clara, I-’
‘If you want me you’re going to have to pay for it, like any punter. Do I owe you special privileges? I don’t think so.’
He was dismayed to find himself so hurt and so floundering. ‘I thought-’
‘You thought this was special? Uh, uh. I’m special. You want me, lover boy, you pay for me. What’s wrong? Shocked, are we? Thought I was a little angel, did you?’
‘I looked after you.’
‘Then fucking continue looking after me. Get me some more stuff, or fork out a hundred bucks a time to see me naked.’
She lifted her T-shirt, waggled her torso briefly, covered herself again. Something fractured a little further in van Alphen then. That life boiled down to supply and demand, rather than values, was the position he’d reached after a working life doing this shitty job.
Saturday night, about eleven o’clock, and Challis was alone in the incident room, logging on to the database to see what the analysts had found. He was looking for a similar pattern of abductions and rape-murders in other parts of the country, with cross-references to mini-vans, four-wheel drives and other rear-compartment vehicles.
When the call came, a Mitsubishi Pajero found abandoned and torched at the side of a dirt road near the Old Peninsula Highway, his first thought was: Maybe our man’s panicking, getting rid of evidence.
But within an hour he’d established that the Pajero had been stolen earlier in the day, probably by two men fleeing from an aggravated burglary, and, disappointed, he logged off and left the building.
He got home just as one day drifted into the next and it was New Year’s Eve.
Sixteen
Sutton was in the Displan room telephoning Vicki Mudge with the news that her Pajero had been found. ‘Unfortunately it’s been destroyed. Abandoned and then burnt.’
A strange gasp in the woman’s voice-almost of relief, Sutton thought-covered immediately by a cough: ‘Burnt? Oh dear.’
‘You might like to inform your insurance company. Meanwhile we’ll be investigating this pretty thoroughly. We think the men who stole your Pajero yesterday were responsible for a pretty vicious aggravated burglary earlier.’
And that’s how he learned that Vicki Mudge was not the owner of the Pajero but the sister of the owner. The owner’s name was Lance Ledwich and he lived on the other side of the Seaview Estate. Cosy, Sutton thought.
When Challis came in, he said, ‘Boss, we need to take another look at Ledwich.’
‘Convince me.’
‘He lied to us. He owns a Mitsubishi Pajero, only he kept it at his sister’s house, not all that far from where he lives.’
‘Why didn’t your DMV check turn it up?’
‘Registration had lapsed, boss.’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s the Pajero stolen after that ag burg yesterday. The one that was torched last night.’
‘You think he arranged to have it destroyed?’
‘It’s possible, but I think it was just bad luck.’
‘Good luck for us, perhaps, except that as evidence it’s worthless now that it’s been destroyed. What about the sister?’
‘Name’s Vicki Mudge.’
‘She known to us?’
‘Her husband is, Paddy, sexual assault.’
Challis went very still and alert suddenly. ‘They’re working together.’
Sutton shook his head. ‘Paddy’s been in Thailand since late November.’
‘Check it out.’
‘I will,’ Sutton said. ‘The thing is, boss, yesterday when I questioned Vicki Mudge she seemed pretty edgy, and just now, when I said the Pajero had been burnt, she sounded relieved, then edgy again when I said there’d be a thorough investigation. That’s when she came clean about who owned the Pajero.’
‘She knows something’s up, and she’s protecting her own skin.’
‘Could be.’
‘All right, talk to Ledwich again.’
‘I’d like to take that new female constable with me.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s cluey.’
‘Fine,’ Challis said.
Pam Murphy’s shift didn’t start until midday, but Detective Constable Sutton came looking for her in the canteen and said, ‘You’re coming with me. I’ve talked to your boss.’
She drove, Sutton talked.
‘Everything’s dragons and monsters at the moment. Maybe she’s picking up vibes. When the wife heard about Trina Unger, she said, “The man’s a monster,” and Ros said, “Where’s the monster? Is there a dragon, too?”‘
‘Really?’
‘Plus it’s become a battle of wills. She plays the wife and I off against each other, refuses to go to bed, kicks up a stink when it’s bathtime, won’t eat what’s put in front of her.’
‘Sounds typical,’ Pam said.
‘Typical, sure,’ Scobie Sutton said, ‘but until you’ve encountered it yourself you don’t realise what strong wills they’ve got. I mean, my daughter, three years old, could teach a tribe of Hell’s Angels how not to back down in the face of authority.’
Pam fingered her jaw. It hurt. She’d been struck by her board in the surf during the morning’s lesson with Ginger and ever since then she’d been exploring the bruise with her fingers, aggravating it, but unable to leave it alone. ‘Sir, where are we going?’
‘No need to call me “sir”. “Scobie” will do. Inspector Challis wants us to have a word with a man called Lance Ledwich.’
‘Why me, sir?’
‘I watched you yesterday. Your instincts told you there was something off about Vicki Mudge. Well, she’s Ledwich’s sister, and had been looking after the Pajero for him.’
