Fifty Fifty (Detective Harriet Blue #2)(28)

‘Uh-huh.’

‘I can’t believe this. Any of it. How has this happened?’

‘That’s what we’re all trying to work out.’

‘Well, I’m ready to do my part now, ay? I’m ready to help you both through this. It’s the least I can do.’ She drew a deep breath, allowing me to prepare myself for the grand show of generosity that was about to come. ‘They’ve asked me to do a spread in Her Weekly. It’s paid. I want to donate some of that money to Sam’s legal fees.’

‘You …’ I felt heat rush up into my mouth. ‘You what?’

‘Some magazine lady called me. They want to do a four-page spread on my story. It’ll be me and some photos of youse when youse were kids. Some stories about raising you both.’

I was speechless.

‘They’re offering forty thousand dollars,’ she sniffed. ‘So I thought, you know, five or ten grand of that could go to you and Sam, help out with the lawyer or whatever.’

‘You can’t do this,’ I said. I was standing now, my mouth opening and closing, the words failing to come. ‘You just … can’t, Julia. I mean, what the hell are you going to say? Sam and I … we were practically toddlers when we left your care.’

‘Harry, it’s not like I didn’t have any say into how youse were raised. I always knew where youse were. I called. I called dozens of times.’

I couldn’t breathe.

‘Harry, are you there?’

‘Julia,’ I said. ‘Listen to me very carefully. Her Weekly isn’t interested in how you raised us and what lovely children we were. They’re not going to paint this as some beautiful tragic tale of a misunderstood woman and the perfect little angels who were stolen from her by evil Child Services. They’re going to represent you as an irresponsible junkie and the two of us as institution rats with violent backgrounds.’

‘No they’re not.’

‘Yes, they are.’ I gave an angry laugh. ‘Anything else would be a lie!’

She was silent. In the background of the call, I could hear a television playing, a man shouting.

‘Julia, they’re going to sit you down and wave money in your face and get you to confide in all the awful stuff you’ve done over the years. And then they’re going to use that as evidence to suggest Sam is guilty.’

‘ Harry, my life is really hard right now. I don’t expect you to understand, you being a fucking copper and all. You’ve been trained to hate people like me.’

‘OK,’ I said, ‘I’m hanging up now.’

‘I need that money, Harry. I’m going to use it to start again. I’ve met someone, and we’re going to start a business together. This is the one, Harry. I can feel it. He’s not like the others.’

I didn’t say anything.

‘I have always loved you, Harriet.’ She gave a sharp, furious sigh. ‘I have always loved your brother. Doesn’t that count for anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t know how you ended up such an ungrateful bitch. I’m doing my fucking best here.’

I hung up, gripped my hair. I wanted to howl into the night. It was like my brother was sinking in quicksand. Every time I thought someone was coming along to help me free him, they only kicked more sand at him. The more he struggled, the deeper he got. I knew if too many people joined the crowd trying to bury him, I’d never get Sam out alive.





Chapter 38


IN THE MORNING we paid a visit to Theo Campbell’s friend David Lewis, to see what he thought about the former police chief’s death. The younger man had seen Theo that afternoon, climbed the roof of his little farmhouse with him and accepted his help in fixing some broken tiles. Lewis had of course heard the news already and seemed bewildered. The last person to see the victim before a tragedy is often haunted by what has happened. David repeated words I’d heard often, that Theo had seemed fine, that he couldn’t believe he watched his friend walk off so casually to what would be such a violent death.

The sun was high and blazing as we pulled in to the Campbell driveway. Olivia Campbell opened the door to us, her hands red from wringing and her eyes puffy. She had the reserved dignity of a cop’s wife, her outfit put together and her hair neatly pulled into a tight bun. A woman who carried on in the face of adversity, at least in terms of appearance, someone who never let the cracks show. There was a framed wedding photograph of the two of them just inside the door. Theo was broad-shouldered, tall and bushy-browed. I went to the doors that looked out onto the backyard, watched the family cat as it toyed with a dead locust by the edge of the lawn.

‘It’s drugs,’ Olivia said as she and Snale settled on the lounges. ‘People are saying it’s terrorism, or it’s related to the diary they found. But I’m telling you, it’s some drug gang that’s got him.’

Snale and I exchanged glances, shocked. I didn’t know what I’d expected. Some small talk about Theo, about how Olivia was coping. But she launched straight in. Kash looked sceptical. He stood at the bookcase, looking over the tattered paperbacks there. He zeroed in on a copy of the Qur’an like a hawk and seized it from the third shelf, as though he’d find the answer to Theo’s demise there.

‘What do you mean, drugs?’ Snale asked gently. ‘We’re on top of the drug situation in the region. We don’t have any gangs out here.’