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SH02 - Harum Scarum Page 10
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Mrs Kusak stopped her fidgeting but still couldn’t look Stevie in the eye. ‘Near the old pump station, by the water. People aren’t supposed to go there. They’ve closed off the track but Miro parks at the lookout and walks down with the dog. He always hangs about down there. He even takes me sometimes. It’s what I told that bitch woman cop yesterday.’
Stevie kept her face impassive while she thought hard. Tash had known this yesterday and not told her. Damn her for not saying anything, damn her bloody migraines. How could she have said nothing? What the fuck was she playing at?
‘Does anyone else know about this place where he takes the dog?’ Stevie asked, her eyes fixed on the cross hanging on the wall above Mrs Kusak’s head.
‘Why you need to know that?’ Mrs Kusak asked.
Why do you think, you stupid bitch? ‘Because we need to find out who killed him, Mrs Kusak,’ Stevie said with brittle patience.
Mrs Kusak narrowed her eyes. ‘Then why don’t you ask that woman cop from yesterday?’
Stevie stood up. ‘Are you accusing Constable Hayward of your husband’s murder?’ she asked.
The woman’s eyes dropped. ‘Yes—no—I dunno.’
‘You have to be very certain Mrs Kusak, before you start making accusations. What time yesterday did Constable Hayward come to see you?’
Mrs Kusak shrugged and touched her hair, making the pendulous folds at the top of her arms swing. She looked through the window at the pink-flossed sky. ‘Before now, four o’clock maybe. My neighbour’s kids was having a party, they start at lunch and go all night. I asked her to go and see them, warn them to shut up. She said no, tell me I no deserve to ever sleep good again.’
Now that did sound like something Tash might’ve said. Stevie cleared her throat. ‘What time did she leave?’
Mrs Kusak shrugged. ‘I dunno, about five maybe.’
Stevie had called at Trish’s at about six thirty and she was still not home. ‘Do you wish to proceed with the harassment charges against Constable Hayward? If you do, you’ll need to put your complaint and any other suspicions you might have about the constable in writing.’
There was a momentary pause before Mrs Kusak answered, ‘No.’ She dropped her head into her hands and began to sob, her plump body wracked with self-pity.
‘You told me on the phone that Constable Hayward showed you pictures from the child’s autopsy. Is that true?’ Stevie asked, unmoved.
Mrs Kusak didn’t look up. She spoke through her hands. ‘No, I said that to make you listen. But she was still a bitch. She told me all about how she died, that little girl...’
‘You lied about the separation, you lied about the autopsy photos. What else have you lied about, Mrs Kusak?’
When the woman looked up, Stevie saw for the first time genuine tears of grief carving their way down the powdered cheeks.
‘My Miro, what am I gonna do without him, the dirty no good Slav...’
She loved him, Stevie realised. Despite it all, she still loved him.
15
Monty drove while Stevie sat in the passenger seat of the unmarked police car, pondering the various forms of love. Mrs Kusak had told the officers making the initial enquiries that she and Miro were separated, then she’d told Stevie they were in the process of separating. It was obvious upon the search of the house that despite her trip to the dump, he was still very much in residence. They’d found his shaving equipment in the bathroom, his underwear in the bedroom drawers, even his pyjamas folded under the pillow. If she had really planned on chucking him out, they would never know. What made a woman stay with a man like that, she wondered, when she was so aware of his foul proclivities?
And what about you, her inner voice nagged. You lived with a man who raped you and caused misery to countless others. You’re a cop, you of all people should have seen through him—you are in no position to judge.
I threw Tye out as soon as I knew he was up to no good, Stevie answered in her defence, reaching for the water bottle at her feet. She took a swig and tried to wash down the lump that rose like bile in her throat. She looked over at Monty as he drove and wondered how she could ever have thought that she loved anyone else. The problems she faced now with Monty were a walk in the park compared to what she’d endured with Tye. The demands of the job affected plenty of other police couples too.
Or so she tried to tell herself.
But tonight there was such a crackling tension in the car between them. Monty was answering her questions in grunted monosyllables, turning what could have been a comfortable silence into a bed of nails.
His flat delivery suited the subject matter when at last he began to speak at length. ‘You remember that case of the abducted girl in Mundaring a couple of years ago?’ He kept his eyes on the road, his face glowing in the dashboard light. ‘She was found tied to a tree in the state forest after an anonymous tip off.’
Stevie hadn’t worked the Mundaring case, but she remembered the frustration of all concerned. ‘Yes, the victim had traumatic amnesia, couldn’t remember much about her ordeal. She was sexually interfered with, but otherwise physically unharmed.’
‘The state forest where she was found borders the east side of Mundaring Weir,’ Monty said. ‘The anonymous caller who raised the alarm was male and had a slightly foreign accent. We always presumed he was the perpetrator, though the only leads we had at the time were some dog hairs found on the girl.’
Stevie smacked her palms upon her knees. ‘It’s Kusak, it has to be,’ she said. ‘He didn’t mean to kill her; he was planning on leaving her tied up like he did the first girl. He must’ve panicked when he realised she was dead, had no kind of plan for the body disposal and did the first thing that came to his mind—dump her at the building site.’
‘SOCO found a rape kit in the back of the Toyota: duct tape, mask, more or less what he used on the first girl. Kusak’s undoubtedly our guy and, yes, Bianca’s death was probably an accident.’
‘Any signs of a double act?’
Monty shook his head. ‘Evidence suggests that Kusak abused her alone, although that doesn’t rule out Mrs K as an accessory of some kind. The pathologist said Bianca had a bad head cold; she wouldn’t have been able to breathe through her nose and probably suffocated when she was gagged. They also found dog hairs on her body.’
Monty’s despondency spread to Stevie like a virus. At least he’d acted alone. I should be elated, she thought, but I’m not. We should be going out for a celebratory drink, but the thought sickens me. We’ve solved the crime; this man will harm no more children, and there will be no protracted court case. Someone has done us all a huge favour by knocking the creep off, yet I feel cheated, unsatisfied. She wondered if this was Monty’s problem too.
He started to speak, hesitated, moistened his lips and glanced at her. ‘Is Mrs K going to pursue her complaint about Natasha?’
No, she realised, his problem ran a bit deeper than one murdered paedophile. His tone of voice, the way his eyes left the road to glance at her face, made her wonder if he was already aware of her doubts about Tash. She felt a sudden rush of anxiety. Shit, am I that transparent? What has he found out?
She shifted in her seat; the air conditioner didn’t seem to be working properly, it felt like a hair drier aimed at her face. She fiddled with the angle of the vent and turned down the fan. ‘No, she’s dropped the complaint.’
No more questions about Tash please, Monty, she silently begged. I have to get a few things straight in my own mind first.
‘Emma’s minding Izzy,’ she said. ‘Her mother said it was okay for her to sleep over when I said I might be back late. I think Emma will be disappointed when Dot comes back,’ Stevie rattled on, hoping to draw Monty into conversation.
No such luck.
‘The bullet that killed Miro was fired at the lookout from an automatic pistol,’ Monty said. ‘I found it embedded in a tree with the casing on the ground near the bin. There was also broken glass and a small amount of wh
at looks to be blood splatter. I think someone either sat in the passenger seat or leaned through the open passenger window and shot him while he was sitting in his car.’
‘When I arrived, the passenger window was closed.’
Monty shrugged. ‘It could’ve been wound up again. SOCO have found fingerprints, but none yet that are identifiable with anyone other than Kusak.’
She took a breath, wondering where he was going with this. ‘Go on.’ Let’s get this over with.
‘The dog was probably out of the car when the shot was fired,’ Monty went on. ‘We found its tracks at the lookout and also plenty of tyre tracks. After Kusak was shot, the gear stick was placed in neutral and the Toyota pushed down the hill. There are some fresh dents in the side where it clipped vegetation on the way down.’
Stevie thought for a moment. ‘Maybe someone went down the track on foot after to check all was as it should be. That could explain the piece of torn shirt I found on the bush.’
‘Possibly. The Toyota’s been towed away for forensic examination. One of the first things we need to do is eliminate Mrs K as a suspect in her husband’s murder or as an accomplice in Bianca’s murder and abduction.’
‘She’s never had a driver’s licence,’ Stevie said. ‘I can’t see her getting herself the ten kilometres home from the lookout without a car.’
‘Unless she had some help. She might have paid someone else to knock him off. I’m going to get people onto her bank accounts. I’ve also asked the media to put out a plea for public assistance, see if anyone saw anything from the road that night.’
Close family members of a victim were always the first suspects, but Stevie couldn’t discount the feeling, despite the unpalatable taste it gave her, that Mrs K had actually loved her husband.
‘I was looking through Wayne’s witness statements while I was waiting for you to pick me up,’ Monty went on. ‘Some local kids were having a gathering that started at lunchtime and went on into the night. Mrs K rang them several times to complain, first in the afternoon about a car parked across her driveway, then about beer cans tossed over her fence. By the time it was dark and the party really cranked up, she was threatening them with he police. They finally conceded to her wishes at about midnight and turned the music down. Wayne’s got records of the times.’
‘Still a bit dodgy. Kusak was apparently killed sometime between early evening and midnight.’
‘The time of death is just a preliminary estimate. We won’t know until the autopsy. Whatever the TOD, she’s still not clear, she could have paid someone else. Then again...’ Monty tapped his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment and frowned. The dense bush on either side of them was dark as they headed down the hill to the city. Stevie felt disorientated, had no idea how far they were from the well-lit highway below.
‘Early evening.’ She cleared her throat, reluctant to tell him what she knew, but his silence compelled her to speak. ‘That was about when Tash visited her,’ she said, deliberately vague about the time.
Monty took his eyes off the road for a moment and searched her face. ‘Find out the exact time,’ he snapped. ‘And find out where she was when she was supposed to be at the team meeting in Central.’
Jeez, can a couple know each other too well? ‘She was home with a migraine,’ Stevie said.
‘But she wasn’t there when you called around. Do you know exactly when she did get home?’
‘For God’s sake, you’re acting like you think Tash had something to do with...’ A bounding shape leapt out into the road from the bush. He braked hard, only just missing the roo.
‘Watch out, there’ll be another,’ Stevie warned.
Sure enough, a joey darted out, bouncing after its mother.
Monty expelled a pent up breath. ‘I’m pulling over,’ he said as he glided the car to a stop on the shoulder of the road. He left the lights on but turned off the ignition, swiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
There wasn’t another car on the road. A recent bushfire had burned the surrounding vegetation into a moonscape and she could smell the acrid dead smoke through the air conditioning vent. Darkness and silence closed in upon them.
Monty’s face appeared green and distorted in the dashboard light, his forehead glistening with sweat. People in relationships reflected each other like mirrors, Stevie decided. Right now Monty’s was a magnifying mirror, sending all her flaws and faults right back to her.
But she was not going to make this about her. She touched his arm. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No, I’ve had a splitting headache all day. It started in my tooth. Is there any Panadol in the glove box?’
‘You need to take some time off and go to the dentist. That tooth’s been bothering you for a while.’ She found a packet jammed between the maps. After popping the pills out of their foil she handed them to him with the water bottle that had been rolling around at her feet.
‘These migraines must be contagious,’ he said, giving her a pointed look before swallowing the pills. When she didn’t reply, he slapped the steering wheel in frustration, the sudden sound making her flinch.
‘I don’t understand you,’ he bellowed, at last losing any semblance of self-control. ‘I saw Mrs Kusak not long after you saw her and she mentioned then that she told Natasha Hayward where her husband was most likely to be hanging out. She told you too, yet you’ve said nothing to me about it. Why are you protecting her? Is it because her parents died tragically and she’s nobly dedicated herself to looking after her retarded brother? Or is it because she’s gay and you figure she needs all the help she can get in a job that’s dominated by a mob of overbearing straight males?’
Stevie struggled to maintain her composure; one of them had to. ‘Forget the stereotypes, okay? Try loyalty, trust and friendship instead. But protecting her? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh come on, Stevie,’ he slapped his thigh in frustration. ‘Miro Kusak was killed by an automatic pistol that uses point 40 S&W ammunition. I got the bullet and cartridge dispatched to ballistics as soon as I found them. I heard back from them about half an hour ago while I was waiting for you to pick me up.’
Stevie swallowed. ‘So?’
‘So, we happen to have a couple of Glock 22s in the armoury, which could easily match the murder weapon. They were handed in for the weapons amnesty.’ He lapsed into the interrogator’s most effective weapon, silence. It gave the suspect the chance to incriminate herself.
Stevie wouldn’t fall for it. After a lengthy pause she said, ‘I can’t see what you’re getting at.’
‘How about the gun used to kill Miro Kusak was borrowed from the armoury at Central? I called the property sergeant and he had something interesting to tell me. It seems...’ Monty hesitated.
Stevie became aware of an ache in her jaw and forced herself to unclench her teeth. ‘What?’
‘It seems Natasha was hanging around the armoury the other day, chatting to the property sergeant and looking at the confiscated weapons. We have so many in there at the moment, there’s not room enough in the gun cabinets for all of them. When the week’s up, they’re going to be moved to the firearms repository and destroyed.’
‘Get to the point Monty.’
‘The point is, the property sergeant didn’t worry too much about a missing imitation Glock, which was actually a very well crafted water pistol. It was handed in with a bunch of genuine weapons and he didn’t get the chance to check it properly before the guy bolted. He was quite pissed off that someone received tickets for the test with a bloody toy, and he didn’t report it missing because a) he knew he’d be in the shit for it and b) he knew it was harmless.’ Monty paused. ‘But at least he was being straight about it with me.’
Not like me you mean, Stevie thought. Shit, I’ve been sprung. Shit shit shit.
‘So ... have you seen Hayward brandishing a water pistol around the place?’ Monty demanded.
She knew what he was intimating. If Tash
had been able to spirit out a water pistol, she could just as well have been able to spirit out the real thing, use it to kill Kusak and then return it to the armoury with no one the wiser.
Stevie avoided a direct answer. ‘I’d have put her on report if she’d been out of order.’
Monty’s face lit up with the headlamps of a passing car. He rubbed his face with his hands and placed them back upon the steering wheel. Under the glow from the dash she noticed the knuckles of his right hand glistening like split cherries.
Monty spoke softly, with no hint of anger. In Monty McGuire this was not a good sign. ‘Robert Mason has filed a complaint at the remand centre, alleging he was intimidated by Tash with a water pistol at the time of his arrest.’ Monty moistened his lips. ‘An incident which you seem to have conveniently brushed under the carpet. I imagine Dolly will want a little chat about it with you. The complaint form was put on my desk by mistake, I’m going to have to hand it over to her.’
Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! Inspector Dorothy ‘Dolly’ Veitch was head of the Sex Crimes Division and Stevie’s immediate superior. Stevie opened her mouth to speak but it took a few moments before she could form the words. ‘I have had a word with her about it, everything’s fine now, it was just a momentary lapse on her part.’
‘I’ve ordered tests to be carried out on the confiscated Glocks in the armoury. They should be able to tell us if the guns have been fired recently. I know Natasha has had it rough, she’s been in Sex Crimes for a long time...’
‘I said I’ve spoken to her, fuck it! She assured me it won’t happen again.’
Stevie dug her fingers into each side of the car seat and twisted her head to look at him. ‘How did you hurt your hand—hit someone?’
‘I felt frustrated. I thumped a tree at the scene.’
She clamped her jaw. ‘You’re lying to me, Monty.’ How cool she managed to make her words sound.
He shot her a glare. ‘Yeah, I’ve had a good teacher.’
He said nothing more, turned the key and glided from the shoulder back onto the road. Soon they were close enough to the city to have the benefit of streetlights. She gazed at the ring on her finger where it sparkled under the passing lights like a small crystal of ice.