A Date To Die For, page 21
Joe wasn’t sure if Tessa was serious or joking, despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Anyway, you picked up on the signals, but you didn’t connect the dots. Besides, he wasn’t killing when you were living with him. That we know of.’
Mascara stained Tessa’s face as she wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘No, you’re wrong. Why Joe, why would he do this? Are you sure?’
‘No. Yes. Well, not one hundred percent. So, let’s join the dots.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘You should clean your face before Alex gets here with dinner. We don’t want to discuss this with anyone until we’re sure.’ Joe walked to the board. ‘But I am sure. All we have to do is prove it.’ As an afterthought, Joe said, ‘Alex is coming with dinner, isn’t she?’
38
Joe ruled two more columns on the board. He wrote Sebastian Sanders’ and Ed Kowalski’s names on the board again. ‘Let’s look at what we’ve got and match it up with Sanders, Kowalski and Damien.’
‘Kowalski and Sanders are still contenders then?’ Tessa asked.
‘I don’t think so. But you’re right, we shouldn’t rule them out yet. Part of me hopes it is Sanders, the arrogant shit. But I doubt it.’ Joe said.
‘Part of me wishes it was Aaron Thompson. The slime.’
‘All of me wishes it was nobody, and it never happened.’ Joe pointed to the copy of the note that the killer pinned to the victims’ breasts. ‘But it did. So, back to the note.’
‘It’s Calibri font,’ Tessa said. ‘I don’t think we can read anything into that, it’s pretty standard, the default Word font. But what’s he trying to tell us?’
‘We kept asking ourselves—who’s the message for?’ He stood back and re-read the words. Trust not too much to appearances. The beauty hides the thorns. ‘The message is for you, Tess. Damien is talking about you.’
‘No, no, no … I’m not the reason he killed those women.’ Tessa stood, paced. ‘No, it can’t be my fault.’
‘Of course, it’s not your fault. It’s him. You know what he’s like. He can’t stand to lose anything. You’ve said it, I’ve said it. Remember how you said he reacted when he lost the case defending the drug dealer?’
‘Do you mean the time he threw his whisky glass against the wall on his outdoor terrace?’
‘That’s right,’ Joe said. ‘And the time he avoided me when I beat him at chess. He can’t handle loss. And he lost you. Worse, you were stolen from him.’
‘I didn’t think he loved me that much.’
‘I doubt that he ever loved you at all. I don’t think he’s capable. But you belonged to him. You were his possession. And Alex stole his possession. He didn’t go through a normal grieving process when he lost you. He just went straight to revenge.’
Tessa sat. ‘Alex? Do you think …’
‘Yes. He plans to kill her—eventually.’ Joe put the photos of the victims on the board. ‘Look at them. Amber, Isabel, Phoebe, Yolanda—all petite, blonde, pretty ... gay. Just like Alex. And you and Zoe. You’re Zoe. Beautiful. Long dark hair. It hit me this afternoon at the barbeque. The resemblance between you and Zoe. And Alex and the victims. That’s why he chose them.’
‘And me? Does he plan to kill me?’
‘Probably, but not before he kills Alex. He’d want to see you suffer first. What better way to get his revenge—kill the one you love. Watch you suffer.’ Joe raised his eyebrows, shrugged. ‘Who knows, I might be a target too. He might plan to kill me before he kills you. Or he might want to watch me suffer and kill you first.’
Tessa sipped her coffee, wrinkled her nose. ‘This is cold. Why do our coffees always end up cold? I’ll make another one for us both.’
Joe continued making notes on the board and ten minutes had passed before he realised Tessa hadn’t returned. He went to the kitchen and got there just as she was coming in the back door. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘I rang Alex. She’s fine. She’s on her way here. Then I went outside for an emergency cigarette. But I didn’t have one. I forgot. I was too focused on recalling the three years I was with Damien. Trying to remember tell-tale signs. I forgot to have a cigarette.’ She tossed the emergency packet in the bin. ‘If I don’t need one now, I never will. If it’s true, well … I slept with … had sex with … I had sex with a monster. The eyes. I can see them, just as Yolanda described them. Those cold dark eyes peering at me when we were having sex.’ Tessa shivered. ‘Even if Damien’s not the killer, I’ll always remember those eyes now as monster eyes. Killer or not, he’s a ... What is he? I don’t know now. Not sure I ever did.’
They made coffee and went back to the board.
‘Are you okay?’ Joe asked.
‘Sure. When I had my non-ciggy break, I ah … well, as you would say, I rationalised. We don’t know for sure it’s Damien. It’s just supposition. And if it is Damien, you’re right. Shit, Joe, it’s so annoying.’
‘What? What’s annoying?’
‘That you’re always right.’
Joe kissed the top of her head. ‘You’ll just have to learn to live with it.’
‘Even if it is Damien, you’re right, none of this is my fault. I didn’t make Damien a psychopath or narcissist or whatever he is. He always was. He’s controlling. He manipulates the situation to get his own way. But ever so, so charming when he needs to be. Jekyll and Hyde. He has no empathy for anyone or anything.’
‘True,’ Joe agreed. ‘Only a callous bastard would joke about a victim being in a coma.’
‘You’re talking about the day we went to see him about Johnson, aren’t you? The comment Damien made about Kaitlin not being a reliable witness because she was in a coma, right? Oh God, what did I see in him? He doesn’t have a compassionate bone in his body.’
‘Don’t forget about wins at any costs,’ Joe added.
‘Who wins at any costs?’ Alex said as she carried in a large red esky. ‘I didn’t bring wine. Just food and mineral water.’
‘Pellegrino, I hope.’ Joe winked at Alex. ‘We have to keep up the Italian theme. You staying for a bite?’
Alex declined Joe’s invitation to eat with them. ‘I’ve got a not so patient, hungry feline at home.’
‘Wait, Alex,’ Tessa said. ‘Before you leave.’
Alex frowned. ‘You look worried, Tess. What’s wrong?’
‘Promise me you’ll go straight home. No stops. Go straight inside. Don’t open the door. Not to anyone. Ring me as soon as you’re safely inside. Or just text. Whatever. Just let us know you’re safe. Promise.’
‘Sure, promise, but … why?’
‘Just promise.’
‘Yes, I promise. But what aren’t you telling me?’
‘We can’t tell you everything,’ Joe said. ‘Because we don’t know for sure ourselves. But what we do know, and you know too, there’s a killer out there, targeting young, blonde women. Petite. Pretty. Women just like you.’
***
Tessa and Joe ate quickly and in silence. There was no time to savour the food, as delicious as it was. They returned to the murder board with their mineral water within twenty minutes of Alex leaving them.
‘I think we agree Damien fits the profile and has a motive,’ Joe said. ‘But I don’t think we can arrest him based on how his eyes looked when you guys were doing the wild thing.’
Tessa rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, you mean we need actual evidence.’
Joe ignored Tessa’s sarcastic comment. ‘And we still have to look at Ed Kowalski and Sebastian Sanders.’
‘Agree. I think Sanders could fit the profile. Intelligent, organised, controlling, superficial charm and most definitely an exaggerated sense of self-importance.’
‘And Phoebe ended the relationship the same as you ended yours with Damien.’
Tessa looked at the photos of the victims as if seeing them for the first time. ‘If he did do this, and I’m why he did this … how can I…?’
‘It’s not your fault, Tess.’ Joe pointed to the photos. ‘You didn’t do that.’
‘Okay. I don’t have time to feel sorry for myself. That can come when this is all over.’ Tessa looked at Paul’s note. ‘Not sure about Kowalski. I guess he ticks most of the boxes. But …’
‘But he doesn’t have any charm, superficial or otherwise. And I don’t think he has as strong a motive as Damien or Sebastian.’
Tessa shook her head. ‘I must have blind faith in you. You’ve based all this about Damien on a possible motive, a dog, and the word “ciao.” And the victims’ resemblance to Alex and Zoe to me. Do you have any evidence at all? I’m still inclined to Sanders.’
‘We need to rewind, go back to where I think it all started,’ Joe said. ‘Go back to when you were living with Damien.’
‘What about when he was a kid? And his parents? Isn’t that where it usually starts. Was he molested? Did he torture and kill cats?’
Joe looked at Tessa. Said nothing. He picked up the mineral water, put it back without drinking it, and walked to the kitchen. He came back with two coffees. ‘I know you were half joking, but you’re right.’
‘He killed cats?’
‘No. About his childhood. His father was, and still is, domineering and controlling. And his mother doted on him. Then his mother died a few days after Christmas, before the new year. And then you left him not long after his mother died. It was the perfect storm. He was abandoned by the woman who doted on him and the other woman who, in his mind, was supposed to idolise him.’
Tessa took her coffee back to her desk. ‘Was he ever violent when he was a kid?’
‘He didn’t kill cats. Not that I know of. But there were many times when he was aggressive, angry.’ He told Tessa about the end of semester, friendly touch football game where Damien’s competitive, win-at-all-costs nature took over and he put another student in hospital.
‘I don’t know. I was so, I guess, shocked at first, and I believed you. But there’s just not enough to even consider the possibility that Damien might be a suspect. He’s in his thirties. Most serial killers start in their early twenties.’
‘True, but there are plenty of cases where they didn’t start till their thirties or forties or even older. Did you ever read about the married couple, the Copelands, in the United States? They were in their sixties and seventies.’
‘You want to believe it’s Damien.’ Tessa shook her head. ‘I don’t. Where does that leave us?’
‘You’re wrong. I don’t want to believe the person I’ve been friends with since we were kids is a serial killer. But …’ Joe hesitated. He felt a knot tightening in his belly. ‘But hear me out. Snippets of comments and events are falling into place for me. It’s like splicing separate pieces of film to make a movie, a movie that’s beginning to make sense.’
‘English, Joe,’ Tessa said. ‘Plain English, please. What are you trying to say?’
‘Did Damien ever buy you flowers?’
‘Only if friends came for dinner. You know, pretending he was thoughtful.’
‘What sort?’
‘Of flowers? Roses, he knew they were my favourite.’
‘Not anymore.’
‘What?’
‘That’s what you said at the beach when you saw Phoebe’s body. You said roses used to be your favourite, but not anymore.’
‘How did you remember what I said about roses? We were examining Phoebe’s mutilated body, for Christ’s sake.’
‘I guess it just slipped into my memory bank. You know how stuff does. And sometime between then and now I made a mental note not to buy you roses—that is, if I ever had a reason to buy you flowers.’
‘I’ve got a birthday coming up. I’d prefer chocolate. Dark. You converted me to dark with the ones we had at your place with Paul the other night.’
‘Chocolate it is. Back to Damien.’ Joe walked to the board. ‘What have we got?’
‘Chocolate. Paul. Oh God, Paul. He’s going to be okay… isn’t he?’
‘He’s in good hands. He’ll come back stronger than before.’ Joe knew he didn’t sound as convincing as he hoped. ‘He’ll do it for Trudi.’
‘I’ll take some chocolate to the hospital tomorrow. That might help to cheer him.’
‘We’ll cheer him by using his profile to track down this killer,’ Joe said.
‘Okay, okay. So, we agree Damien fits Paul’s profile of the killer, and …’ Tessa stood, paced.
‘And?’
‘Jesus. My stomach just did a backflip. Saying Damien and killer in the same sentence. I’m not sure I can deal with this, Joe.’
‘You have to. Time is running out. He, whether it’s Damien, Kowalski or Sanders, he’ll strike again … soon.’ Joe stood in front of her. He held her shoulders and waited till she made eye contact with him. ‘It’s not about you, Tess. Or me. It’s never about us or how we feel. It’s about the victim. You know that.’
‘I know. And it’s about making sure there are no more victims. I know.’ She breathed deeply as she ran her fingers through her hair and tightened the band around her ponytail. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
‘Okay, back to what we know.’ Joe walked to the board. ‘We agree Paul’s note describes Damien. He’s intelligent, organised, and ruthless, and gets what he wants at any cost. And you’ve said it yourself. He has no empathy. But he can be charming. Even Yolanda said that he, that is the man who attacked her, seemed sweet at first when he offered her a lift.’
‘Yolanda’s physical description of her attacker matches Damien. Light brown hair, dark eyes. Similar height, build and age to you. He’s right-handed, and he smokes.’ Tessa wrinkled her nose. ‘Smells like an ashtray. I didn’t notice the stink when I was smoking too.’
‘Must be unpleasant for his clients,’ Joe said.
‘Do you mean his scum of the earth, who gives a shit what they think, mostly drug-dealing clients? Most of them smoke too.’ Tessa poured two glasses of mineral water, handed one to Joe. ‘The note—Trust not too much to appearances. The beauty hides the thorns—you said he was talking to me. About me. Why?’
‘You’re beautiful, but you deceived him. You weren’t what you appeared to be—to him, anyway.’ Joe sipped his mineral water. ‘You were supposed to be in love with him, under his control. You weren’t supposed to leave him. Especially not for a woman.’
Tessa cocked her head and bit her bottom lip.
Joe could see her eyes moving side to side. ‘What? What are you thinking?’
Tessa picked up Paul’s note from the desk. His existence is a mask that hides his evil nature behind a false charm. ‘That says a similar thing about Damien as we think the note on the victims says about me. We both hid our true nature.’
‘Yep, the same, but different. You didn’t hide an evil nature. You just denied a part of yourself until you met Alex.’
‘What else do we have? What other piece has fallen into place for you?’
‘The scratch on his face. When we went to his office the other day, he had a scratch on his face. You assumed it was from playing rugby. Remember? It hasn’t healed. I noticed it today at the barbeque. Yolanda hit her attacker in the face with her shoe.’
Tessa nodded. ‘I remember. But it’s all conjecture. We need proof. Damien moves heaven and earth to get off a lousy drug dealer. Imagine what he would do if it was him in the firing line. We need undeniable proof.’
‘The black-rimmed glasses you hadn’t seen before. He said he was waiting on a new prescription. That was just a few days after the killer’s glasses were broken when he attacked Yolanda. I’m betting the partial fingerprint the lab found on the lens will match Damien’s print.’
Tessa shook her head. ‘It’s barely a partial. And after all this time, I don’t have anything that might have Damien’s prints on it to match it with.’
‘I do. When he was leaving the barbeque, he left his empty glass on the table.’
‘The partial print won’t be conclusive. I’m betting on it. We need more.’
Joe raced over to his laptop and opened his emails. ‘Look at this email from Damien.’
***
Looking forward to catching up next week.
I’ve attached the restaurant’s website.
Not far from your place.
See you at 7:30
Ciao
***
‘What do you notice?’ Joe said. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before.’
Tessa stared at the screen for a moment before she spoke. ‘A hard return after every sentence. Just like his messages on the dating sites. And of course, the obvious ciao.’
Joe opened more emails from Damien. They all had the same hard return after every sentence. ‘I’m right, Tess. But I wish I wasn’t. You’re right. All we have is circumstantial—not sure we can even call it evidence. It would be easier to get evidence and prove if it was Sanders or Kowalski. We need rock solid evidence against Damien.’
‘And we need it before he kills again.’
39
The wind and the heavy rain had eased to a light drizzle when Alex drove home after dropping off barbeque leftovers to Tessa and Joe at the station. The reflection of the streetlights on the wet roads and the star-patterned glare from oncoming cars reminded Alex of another evening. An evening just like this one.
Relaxed by the rhythmic tick tock of the windshield wipers, Alex reminisced about that evening last year when she and Tessa met. She recalled the awkward first five minutes that morphed effortlessly into comfortable conversation. She smiled when she remembered Tessa’s comment, ‘Oh, so we’re friends now, after five minutes and one sip of wine,’ when Alexandra told her, ‘My friends call me Alex.’
And the wine Tessa chose. A Western Australian chardonnay. Alex noticed Tessa was careful to choose a quality wine, but not too expensive. It was perfect. But everything about Tessa is perfect. She’s smart, beautiful, fiercely loyal. Perfect. Perfect now, that is. Tessa was an honest person. She told the truth, nothing but the truth, but not always the whole truth. Alex never hid her sexual preferences from her family. They were a little disconcerted at first, but eventually accepting. Video conferencing was good, but Alex was looking forward to taking Tessa to Perth at Christmas to meet her parents face to face. Tessa had spoken to Alex’s parents many times. They were open about their relationship with Alex’s parents. But Tessa had refused to reveal her true relationship with Alex to her own family until this afternoon.
