Liars, page 25
‘You go first,’ said Seb benevolently.
‘Viv has bought drugs recently.’
‘Really? What sort?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘How much?’
‘Not sure’
‘When?’
‘Don’t know exactly. Fairly recently.’
Perhaps, Seb thought, they had got to that point where the difference between amateurs and professionals became apparent. Unlike Barb, he had been trained. When you found a piece of relevant information, you filled it out in every direction. What? When? Where? Who? Why? How? Five W’s and a H. It was a shame ‘How’ didn’t begin with a W, too, to make a much neater six W’s, but then it would be ‘Wow’.
‘He might just smoke the odd joint,’ he said. ‘He often seems quite distant, so that fits.’
Barb opened her mouth to respond, but he couldn’t wait any longer.
‘Dev told you that after she left the club the night Joe died, she drove straight home. It’s a fifteen-minute drive from the club to her place in Ettalong, and there’s a camera on the Rip Bridge. The only other way for her to get home is to go the long way around via Gosford, which takes over an hour. I reckon she left about 7 p.m., but I watched CCTV footage from the bridge from 6.45 p.m. until 8.45 p.m. No Dev. She lied.’
‘Is that where we’re going? To see her?’
‘Yep.’
‘Perhaps she did her grocery shopping on the way.’
‘Then why did she tell you she went home?’
‘She may have forgotten?’
‘The nearest big shops are on her side of the Rip Bridge. On this side there’s nowhere open that time of night.’
Barb turned to him. ‘What if Viv and Dev are in it together? Viv gains by getting the house and selling it to Dev for lots of money. Dev gains by her development going ahead. You said Viv has always been mesmerised by Dev, yes? Dev persuades Viv to kill Joe. He buys the drugs. Then on the night, she spikes Joe’s drink, leaves the club early, waits near his house for him to come home, sneaks in and overdoses him.’
‘Viv was at the club that night too, which is unusual. He doesn’t normally go. He could have spiked Joe’s drink.’
‘So we have three possibilities,’ said Barb. ‘One, Dev acted alone. Two, Viv acted alone, although that doesn’t explain where Dev went after the club. And three, they acted together.’
Seb drove on, trying to think it through. Perhaps the separation between amateurs and professionals wasn’t quite as clear cut as he had thought.
CHAPTER 49
Seb had rung Dev from the car, requesting an urgent meeting.
‘About what, may I ask?’ she said.
‘Tell you when we get there.’
Dev said she would meet them at her home.
‘Guess she’s not mad on people seeing a police uniform in her office,’ said Barb. ‘Is that what they call “bad optics”?’
Dev’s apartment, Seb dimly remembered, was in a building she had developed herself. It was one street back from Ettalong Beach, a modern white block trying to look smarter than it was, surrounded by either plastic or real ferns that rose out of white golf-ball-sized pebbles you needed sunglasses to look at.
Seb buzzed, Dev let them in, and they got the lift to the fourth floor where he knocked on her door. Looked sturdy, felt hollow. He wondered if that was the mission statement for all Dev’s developments.
She opened. White slacks and heels, powerful red blouse, ponytailed hair, wide smile and makeup not quite disguising concerned eyes.
‘Hi, Dev.’
‘Seb. Hi.’ She looked Barb up and down. ‘And Barb? What’s up?’
‘Can we come in?’ asked Seb.
‘Sure.’ She led them into a smart white-walled lounge room opening to a balcony. The room was inhabited by two white sofas, a television and a stick-legged, fragile-looking, empty glass coffee table. A yoga mat propped up a wall.
They sat. Dev, perhaps not wanting to risk the coffee table actually having to hold anything, didn’t offer a drink, so Seb got right to it.
‘Dev, you told Barb you left the club around 7 p.m. on the night Joe died, which is what I remember … You drove, yes?’ He realised he had picked up Barb’s habit of ending sentences with ‘yes?’.
‘Yes.’
‘You said you went straight home?’
‘Yep.’
Dev seemed unflustered, but she was an experienced property negotiator, which meant she was good at both hiding her feelings, and lying.
‘No detours?’
‘Seb, what are you getting at?’
‘I’ll tell you as soon as you answer my question.’
Dev stared at him. The silence stretched.
‘He knows you didn’t go straight home,’ said Barb. ‘And if you say, “Oh, I remember now, a friend called and wanted to meet for a drink,” he’ll want the name of the friend, the name of the bar and he’ll even check the video cameras I believe they all have these days. If you say you went shopping he’ll do that, too. He’s very thorough. And I don’t think saying you went for walk along the beach would work because when I interviewed you, you said you preferred the gym.’
‘I’ve looked at the CCTV on Rip Bridge, Dev,’ tag teamed Seb. ‘You didn’t cross it in the hour and three-quarters after you left the club.’
Dev looked from Seb to Barb, blinked, opened her mouth and shut it again. Eventually, she said, ‘I went to a hotel.’
‘For a holiday?’ asked Barb innocently.
‘Not going to lie. Wasn’t a holiday.’
‘Which one?’ asked Seb.
‘Kincumber Hotel.’
‘Why?’ asked Seb.
‘Perhaps you met someone there,’ suggested Barb.
Dev looked uneasy.
Barb pointed her thumb at Seb. ‘He’s going to find out. He’ll check all the hotels. Even if you used a false name, they have CCTV too. He loves watching CCTV.’
‘I do,’ added Seb. ‘I find it meditative. So let’s assume you met someone. Can we do that?’
Dev looked at each of them again, as if assessing her chances of stonewalling, bluffing or picking up the coffee table and braining them with it before it fell apart. Eventually, she slowly nodded.
‘For how long?’
‘A few hours.’
‘A few being …?’
‘Maybe three.’
‘Stay the night?’
She shook her head.
‘Sorry to get personal,’ said Barb, ‘but was it … well, you know …’
‘Did you have sex with the person you met?’ asked Seb.
‘None of your business.’
‘Was it Viv?’ asked Seb
‘Viv?! God, no! Why …?’
‘As we understand it,’ continued Seb, ‘before Joe died, he told you he wasn’t going to sell his house. Now, Viv has inherited it and he is interested in selling. If you knew that Viv would inherit and sell, you had a reason to want Joe dead.’
‘Joe OD’d.’
‘We think he was murdered.’
Dev stared at them. ‘Mur …?’ she began, then, ‘Wh …?’ before trailing off.
‘His death looked like a self-inflicted overdose,’ said Seb, ‘but there is evidence that someone killed him and set it up to look that way.’
Dev shook her head, speechless, a state he’d never seen her even close to before.
‘This is the odd bit,’ said Barb. ‘According to you, you have an alibi for the time Joe was killed. You were with someone in a hotel. However, when I interviewed you, you hid that and claimed to be home alone. Why do that? Either, I’m guessing, because that meeting at the hotel was somehow involved with killing Joe, or because it was something else that you don’t want anyone to know about.’
Dev blinked a few times and focused on Barb. ‘It wasn’t either. Especially not the first. I had nothing to do with Joe’s death. If – and it’s a big if – I end up benefitting from his death, that’s not my fault. That doesn’t mean I wanted him dead.’
‘Who did you meet?’ asked Seb.
‘I’ll tell you if we can keep it between us.’
‘That’s not how it works, Dev,’ said Seb. ‘You think Jack the Ripper said, “Okay, I’ll confess, but can we keep it between us?”’
‘They never actually caught Jack the Ripper,’ said Barb.
‘The point is,’ persisted Seb, ‘if you’ve broken the law, don’t be expecting me to keep it a secret.’
Dev took this in, looking over Seb’s shoulder. He followed her gaze. She was staring at a terrible abstract painting, all splotches and goops. Maybe it was one of those paintings elephants did.
‘I was meeting Olivia Elkins.’
‘The deputy mayor?’ asked Seb.
‘No, the dentist. Yes.’
‘Nothing wrong with meeting an elected representative,’ said Barb. ‘Tell them what you think. Democracy in action. In a hotel room after dark is unusual though. For three hours, too.’
‘Especially with you being a developer with a controversial project awaiting approval,’ added Seb. ‘Lots to discuss, was there?’
‘We’re seeing each other. I’m single, but she’s married and having an affair. That’s not a crime. It’s just what people do when they’re bored and realise they’re going to die one day.’
‘Then why lie about it?’ said Seb.
‘For her sake. Her husband doesn’t even know she’s bi.’
‘How long has it been going on?’ asked Seb.
Dev hesitated.
‘Again,’ said Barb, ‘he’ll check with the hotel. Talk to the deputy mayor.’
‘A couple of months.’
‘And in that time, has council discussed your development?’ asked Seb.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Get real,’ said Seb. ‘You’re trying to get a multi-million-dollar development up. Of course you know when council discussed it.’
‘Sorry to sound like a broken record,’ said Barb, gently, ‘but the council website lists everything they discuss at meetings.’
‘Yes,’ said Dev sullenly. ‘They’ve discussed it.’
‘How many times?’ asked Seb.
‘Two.’
‘Whilst it hasn’t yet got formal approval, there are some in Bullford Point who are surprised your development has got as far as it has, so quickly,’ said Barb. ‘I’m no expert, but my understanding is that a councillor who was having a relationship with a developer would have to declare a conflict of interest and – what’s that fancy American word? – recuse themselves from the discussion, and any vote. I wonder if that happened?’
The silence hung.
‘If she did participate in the discussion or vote while having an affair with you, then that’s the C word,’ added Seb.
‘Crime?’ Dev asked, eyes widening.
‘Corruption. Apparently they’re pretty strict on it these days. Might be a crime, too. Either way, it will void any favourable decisions about your development. Might want to put those bulldozers on hold for a bit.’
‘On the up side,’ added Barb brightly, ‘you have an alibi for murdering Joe. Although one theory we had is that you might have been the brains, and got Viv to do the dirty work. Buy the drugs, knock him out, inject him. Any thoughts on that?’
‘Didn’t happen.’
‘Seb was saying you used to have Viv wrapped around your finger.’
‘The idea of us teaming up to do anything is ridiculous. The idea of us killing Joe is awful and offensive. Years ago Viv liked me, but that was just because I was an attractive, outgoing female. He would have fallen for any girl who smiled at him. He liked Sal too. Yes, I talked to him about the development before Joe died, and since. And of course I’m trying to persuade him to sell. But I haven’t put a spell on him.’
‘He liked Sal, did he?’ asked Barb.
‘He was equally awkward around both of us. We both smiled at him, so he was probably in love with us both.’
‘How much did Gary invest with you?’
‘That’s confidential.’
Seb tried a hard stare. Surprisingly, it worked.
‘A fair bit,’ said Dev. ‘Low six figures.’
‘Would he have been concerned that if Joe didn’t sell, he might not see his money again?’
‘Not at all,’ said Dev. ‘He might not have got the return he hoped for, but worst-case scenario was that he got his money back. Of course he would have.’
‘One more thing. Did you ever give Joe money?’ asked Barb.
‘No, definitely not.’
‘A down payment to tide him over? Cash?’
‘No. He asked me, a couple of weeks before he died, but I told him we needed him to sign up first. Then he changed his mind and fucked everything up.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ said Barb. ‘Another is perhaps that you “fucked everything up” by inducing the deputy mayor to corruptly push your development.’
Dev gave her a cold stare. ‘There’s no evidence that happened.’ She looked nervously at Seb. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m a cop, Dev. If I don’t report this, I’m corrupt too.’ He stood.
Barb followed his lead. ‘One word of advice. I know I’ve mentioned this before, but times of stress and all. Don’t hammer that cocaine. Very tempting, I’d imagine, but it’s only a temporary escape. Won’t fix anything. Just what I think. You’re an adult.’
*
As he started his car and headed back to Bullford Point, Seb tried to process what had happened. He had solved something, even if it wasn’t what he thought he was solving.
‘Well, we get results,’ said Barb. ‘The odd couple, working hand in glove. Like Abbott and Costello. They were funnier than us, obviously, but we’re more dogged.’
‘Do you think your theory about Dev and Viv working together is still alive?’
Barb frowned. ‘Assuming Dev was telling the truth, she’s alibied on the night Joe died, but they could still have planned it together, and Viv could have done it. I still find it hard to believe Viv would kill his brother, but it’s not impossible. We know he bought drugs. And if we think it might all be linked to Sal being assaulted in Sydney, we now know Viv liked Sal. If he had fallen for her back then … he’s not good with people. Maybe he got worked up and it all came out in a physical way.
‘If Viv wasn’t involved, perhaps someone else was working with Dev. What about Gary? He invested in her development. Dev said that he would have got his money back, but that might not be true. If Gary needed that development to happen, financially, and then was faced with the prospect of losing most of his investment, well … Could he have done it?’
‘I can’t imagine him …’ Seb trailed off, shaking his head. ‘But then again, I could never have imagined lots of things that have already happened.’
CHAPTER 50
‘What do they want to meet about?’ Gary paced up and down his deck, ignoring his wide, high view over the bay toward Ettalong.
‘Network people always want to meet. It’s what they do.’
‘Are they concerned? About ratings?’
‘They’re always concerned about ratings. They’ll tell us they want them to be higher.’
‘But does that mean …’
‘It’ll be fine. Although …’
‘Shit. Although?’
‘They may want a few tweaks.’
‘Changes!’
‘Just tweaks.’
‘Tweaks are fucking changes.’
‘Small changes. Last week’s ratings spooked them a bit, and made them feel they should do something, but it was only a small dip. We’ll smile and nod. No drama.’
After Justin rang off – had the producer sounded eager to end the call, or was that his imagination? – Gary slumped onto his daybed. He knew the code. The network wanting changes meant they were nervous, and if they were nervous and ratings didn’t improve, they might cancel the show.
Fuck! Just when, after years of paddling, he had finally managed to catch another big wave, was it going to dump him?
Lots of people had thought the premise of Which Duck? was ridiculous. He thought it was ridiculous, but he wasn’t going to say no because it was a job hosting a television show, which meant lots of money, increased profile, more media and corporate work and – just admit it – feeling important again. And he had nailed it. He had made the show fun, amusing and energetic for its target audience, basically pensioners and losers.
Objectively, thanks to him, It was a good show, but its quality wasn’t really the issue. Television success was as merit-based as roulette, and the consequences of failure only slightly less drastic than the Russian variety. Bad shows succeeded. Good ones failed. He had tried to avoid thinking about the possibility of Which Duck? failing, because he really didn’t want it to, but now those thoughts came cascading in.
Gary hid it well, but he had always been a worrier, and working in the unpredictable media and entertainment industry didn’t help. He had been blind-sided when the first show he hosted, Time To Shine, was cancelled after three years. That had been a decent run, and he was able to walk away smelling fresh with no reputational damage. Even so, it had been a dark time. Not his worst, but still.
His return to television had been more than good luck. He had invested in the long term by getting a new agent who took a higher commission, but was more proactive. He grew a big social media presence, because networks looked at that, and cultivated relationships with producers: driving down to Sydney for parties, inviting them out on his boat, pitching them shows. None of his show ideas went anywhere, and he kind of knew that none of them were great (apart from The Tormentor, where school bullies and their victims had to work together to survive a week in the wilderness – that would have been a hit), but it kept his name in front of them.
