Ellen privately agreed. ‘Please answer the question.’
He smiled. ‘You can call me Laurie. To answer your question, I was at home with Alysha until about ten. Then she started fitting and I took her to the hospital. Check it out, if you don’t believe me.’
Ellen felt an unaccountable sadness. ‘Fitting?’
‘She’s epileptic. It’s manageable, except last night it was worse than usual.’
‘Is she okay?’
He cocked his neat head at her. ‘I think you genuinely care. Yes, thank you for asking.’
‘Witnesses?’ demanded Scobie Sutton.
‘Oh, it’s you again. Witnesses? Other than Alysha? I didn’t know I’d be needing witnesses, but there will be plenty at the hospital. We were there until long after midnight.’
‘We’ll be checking it out,’ Scobie said.
‘Go your hardest.’
Ellen thought of the girl with a pang. She thought of Larrayne then, and had an overwhelming urge to phone her, to see that she was all right. She gave in to it. ‘Excuse me,’ she said.
Scobie, startled, stopped the tape. Ellen slipped out into the corridor and flipped open her mobile phone. ‘It’s only me.’
‘Mum, I’m trying to study.’
There had never been anything so welcome as her daughter’s brattiness just then. ‘Everything okay? Know where everything is?’
‘Well, Mum, I haven’t searched through all of the cupboards and drawers yet.’
Ellen had sometimes longed to search Challis’s house. She wondered if she’d find letters or diaries that would help to explain who he was. His wife, jailed for trying to have him shot, had stayed in touch until she committed suicide. She used to phone him from prison. Had she also written? Would he have kept her letters? Ellen’s mind flashed down this unwelcome and irrelevant path.
‘Mum!’ shouted Larrayne. ‘Is there anything else?’
Ellen jumped. ‘Sorry, no, see you later. Don’t wait up.’
She went back to the interview room, where Scobie turned on the tape again, and she said at once, ‘Sergeant van Alphen was shot dead in your cousin’s house last night. We believe he was lured there by a phone call. You have made several threats to kill him. Did you kill him, Laurie-or order it done?’
Laurie Jarrett swallowed, the only sign, and said levelly, ‘I won’t say I’m sorry he’s dead, but I swear to you that I did not kill the prick.’
Then he asked for a lawyer.
Scobie tried to be matey. ‘Lawyer? They just charge the earth and complicate matters.’
Jarrett stared at Ellen, jerked his head at Scobie Sutton. ‘Get him out of here.’
Ellen stared back consideringly. ‘All right, but the tape keeps rolling.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Ellen!’ Scobie said.
‘I’ll be fine. You can listen in.’
He went out grumbling. Ellen said, ‘What do you want to say, Laurie?’
‘Nothing about van Alphen. Like I said, I don’t know nothing about that.’
‘Okay,’ she said slowly.
‘Alysha.’
‘What about her?’ Ellen said, sounding harsher than she’d intended.
‘There are things she’s not telling me.’
‘All kids do that.’
‘Do you think she needs to see someone?’
‘You mean a therapist? It couldn’t hurt. Do you have a family doctor who can refer you?’
Laurie Jarrett shrugged.
Ellen said, ‘In the meantime, maybe it’s how you’ve been trying to get her to talk that’s holding her back.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She needs to know she’s loved and wanted.’
‘She is,’ said Jarrett emphatically.
‘At the same time, she needs to know she’s not being accused of anything. That she didn’t do anything bad, or wrong. That you don’t think she’s a bad person. That none of it’s her fault.’
Jarrett stared unseeingly at the wall. He blinked. ‘Am I under arrest?’
Ellen thought about that. ‘No. Just a few more questions-when your lawyer arrives, okay?’
‘Sure.’
After the interview, Ellen returned to the Victim Suite, catching Billy slipping the DVD of King Kong down his jeans.
‘Billy.’
‘You got me,’ Billy said. He put up his wrists to be manacled.
‘Billy, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.’
‘What?’
‘Van-Sergeant van Alphen-was murdered last night.’
Billy opened and closed his mouth, then screwed up his face in emotion. Exactly what emotion, Ellen couldn’t say, but he did sigh and flop into one of the floral-print armchairs. ‘Thank Christ for that.’
Ellen froze. She knew something bad was coming. ‘Billy?’
Billy got to his feet again and rummaged in the refrigerator. He took out and replaced one drink can after another, finally settling on a Coke.
‘Did you have something to do with his death, Billy?’ Ellen said, watching him closely. ‘Is that why you’re relieved?’
‘Me? Nah.’
‘Then why aren’t you more surprised or upset?’
‘I was scared of the prick,’ Billy said. ‘We all were.’
Ellen swallowed, then sat down opposite him. ‘Go on.’
‘He told me what to say. Coached me in how to answer questions. I never seen those guys in the photos before, but he told me I had to say they abused me.’
48
Time passed bewilderingly for Hal Challis. On Tuesday morning he contacted the funeral director and the Uniting Church minister again, telling them he had some repeat business for them, the joke falling flat. They settled on Saturday. After that he was rarely away from the phone, or the front door, as people from the town and the district dropped in or telephoned with their condolences.
Even McQuarrie called from Victoria. ‘Very sorry for your loss, inspector.’
Ellen must have told him. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Take as long as you like, but things are in a turmoil here, and we can’t afford to have you running an independent inquiry in South Australia, now can we, Hal?’
Nixon and Stormare told their boss, Challis thought, who then made a few phone calls. Perhaps the super fears I’ll be even more uncontrollable now that my father’s dead. At another time he might have used that to annoy McQuarrie in subtle ways, but he was too tired. ‘No, sir.’
The day dragged on. Needing badly to fill time, he began to bundle together his father’s clothing for the local op-shop, but it was far too soon, and he lost heart. He went through his father’s desk, paid some bills. That’s when
