Fifty Fifty (Detective Harriet Blue #2)(25)

It was actually while I was sitting in a holding cell at Maroubra Police Station, listening to the goings-on in the office, that I’d found my calling. An old lady had wandered in bleeding after being knocked down only a couple of blocks away, her handbag stolen. I’d watched through the bars as two female officers brought her to a chair by one of the desks, tended to her, soothed her, made her a cup of tea. They were like two daughters caring for their frightened, befuddled mother. And the old lady’s eyes wandered over their immaculate blue uniforms, their faces, with awe and joy. I’d imagined someone looking at me like that one day. Like I was their hero.

Zac Taby needed to decide how he wanted to be looked at. Right now it was only me looking at him, seeing myself. But I knew what he was in the eyes of the people here. Their runt. The enemy in their midst.

‘You’re going to go home and stay there,’ I said. I shoved the kid’s phone back towards him. ‘Play Xbox or something until this whole thing blows over. If I hear or see you around town before I leave, I’ll kick your arse.’

The kid took his phone and gave a dismissive laugh. He didn’t know how serious I was.





Chapter 33


THERE WAS A slender, beautiful Pakistani woman standing in the police station’s main room with Snale and Kash when I emerged, shutting Zac in the interview room to cool his heels. Zac’s mother. Kash still had his interrogation stance on, arms folded and head bowed, eyes narrowed as he took in her face, her figure, as though he could see cruel intentions written on her very countenance. I didn’t see anything but a worried, tired woman fed up with her son’s antics.

‘Is he in there?’ She pointed towards the door as I closed it. ‘I am going to absolutely nail that kid.’

I laughed. Her words were much feistier than her appearance.

‘Your son hasn’t done anything wrong, Mrs Taby,’ I said. ‘Not lately, anyway. Not that we can see.’

‘Yeah, not that anyone can see,’ she scoffed. ‘Half the trouble he gets into, I only hear about it three weeks later when someone makes some snide remark to me about their dead cat or their burned-out shed. He didn’t kill Mr Campbell, Officer, but I can tell you he hasn’t been out there collecting funds for charity. I haven’t seen him in three days. He needs a smack on the behind.’

‘Well, after you’ve smacked his behind, we’d appreciate it if you locked him up for a couple of days,’ I said. ‘Just until everything settles down.’

‘Where is Mr Taby?’ Kash said.

‘Mr Taby doesn’t have time to be running around after our little monster.’ Zac’s mother rolled her eyes. ‘He works remotely for Ektor Corp. His hours are strange. He has to be up all night sometimes talking to his divisional partners. He’s locked to that computer sixteen hours a day.’

‘Ektor Corp.’ Kash nodded. ‘Huh.’

‘Your son’s in a lot of trouble, Mrs Taby,’ I said. ‘We’re going to need you to keep an eye on him. There are people in this town who would just love to get their hands on him.’

‘They’ll have to wait till I’m done with him first,’ she said, marching towards the interview room.





Chapter 34


‘I REALLY THINK I ought to seek medical attention.’ Whitt touched the back of his skull tenderly as he sat at the bar Tox had taken him to, looking at the blood on his fingertips. Tox put two shots of Scotch on the counter before them.

‘I hate working with people,’ Tox said. ‘Don’t make me work with a pussy.’

Whitt drank the Scotch greedily. His mouth was dry, his nerves rattled. And this ‘Tox’ person was doing little to settle his apprehension. Nothing about the man he was sitting beside convinced him that he was as he said: an active police officer, someone who had worked by Harry’s side on a major case.

‘Harry has been responsible for most of the hard work on Sam’s case,’ Whitt said. ‘In my briefcase, I had a copy of her notes. Whoever hit me might have been someone working for the press. Someone looking for fresh story angles on Sam’s case.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Tox grumbled. ‘I think it was whoever framed Sam, trying to get ahead of our game. Trying to know what we know.’

‘ So you think this whole thing is a frame-up, too?’

‘Yep.’

‘But why on Earth would someone do this?’ Whitt shifted closer, intrigued. ‘Kill three innocent girls, just to get revenge against Sam?’

‘Whoever this is, they were going to kill those girls anyway.’ Tox waved a dismissive hand. ‘All three girls were the same type. White, young, ambitious brunettes. No, that was someone’s fantasy. It was ritualised. Same kill technique. Same dumping ground. Whoever murdered those girls, he’s done it before.’

‘That doesn’t fit Sam Blue.’ Whitt sipped his Scotch. ‘He’s got a record, but none of it’s violent or sexual. Petty theft and drug charges in his teens. He’s been good as gold for a decade at least.’

‘Mmm-hmm,’ Tox grumbled. ‘But Harry’s got the violent streak, so the public will assume Sam’s just better at hiding his.’

The two men watched their drinks.

‘You ask me,’ Tox said, ‘we’re looking at two possibilities. The killer has decided to pin his crimes on someone, and he’s chosen Sam Blue, whether it’s for vengeance or whatever the hell. That, or the police investigating the killings have decided they need a patsy, and Sam Blue’s it.’