Liars, page 31
MONICA: Sal said Leanne was quite persistent about wanting to see her. I got the impression maybe Sal felt guilty or responsible for her or something. Would that make sense?
JOE: Yeah, I guess. So, what happened?
MONICA: She arrived and Sal made her a cup of tea, but I had to leave for work then.
JOE: Did Sal say anything about what they talked about?
MONICA: Umm … She said they talked about you.
JOE: Me? Right. What?
MONICA: No idea. She just said, ‘We talked about Joe.’
The recording stopped.
‘That’s it. There’s also this extra bit from Joe’s interview with Leanne,’ said Seb. He clicked.
JOE: So apparently you visited Sal in the Blue Mountains.
LEANNE: Who told you that?
JOE: Her flatmate. Why did you want to see her? You didn’t even like her.
LEANNE: Wanted to talk to her about something.
JOE: But she was blanking the rest of us. Why did she agree to see you?
LEANNE: Cos I asked her nicely. A lot.
JOE: Why didn’t you tell me? I was really worried about her.
LEANNE: Cos she made me promise not to. And cos if I had of, you’d have run up there like a puppy dog.
JOE: What did you want to see her about?
LEANNE: Just wanted to talk to her. None of your business.
JOE: It’s years ago now. Sal’s gone. I’m just curious.
(SILENCE)
LEANNE: Once, on the radio, I heard this guy who’d been bitten by a shark. He said after it happened he was having nightmares about it. He went and talked to this shark expert who told him that the shark, after having a bite of him, was never going to come back. Sharks don’t like the taste of people. He wasn’t what the shark wanted. After hearing that, the nightmares stopped.
JOE: Okay.
LEANNE: I wanted to know if she was coming back.
JOE: To the band?
LEANNE: For you, dickhead. Cos if she did, I knew you’d dump me again.
JOE: Right.
(SILENCE)
JOE: And was she?
LEANNE: Nope. She was definite on that.
JOE: Huh. Fuck. Maybe you should have told me that.
LEANNE: Would you have believed me, or just grilled me for her address?
(SILENCE)
JOE: How was she?
LEANNE: She was … better. I always thought she used people to get what she wanted.
JOE: I don’t think that’s true …
LEANNE: Hey, you’re interviewing me, right? Not the other way round.
JOE: Okay, just saying.
LEANNE: I know, she was fucking perfect.
JOE: Anyway. How was she better?
LEANNE: She seemed more mellow. In Sydney she was all frazzled. She was more relaxed.
JOE: Did you ever tell anyone else her address?
LEANNE: Nope.
JOE: You sure? Cos hardly anyone knew where she lived.
LEANNE: What are you saying, Joe? I’m lying?
JOE: I’m not saying that. But what if Sal wasn’t killed by a multiple murderer. What if …?
LEANNE: Fuck’s sake. You think I told someone where she lived, and they killed her? That’s fucking crazy. Or maybe you think I killed her? That it? I’m the Blue Mountains Strangler? Seriously, you’ve gone fucking mental with this.
JOE: I’m just saying, everyone thinks it was a random killing by a lunatic. If you wanted to kill someone, it’s the perfect cover.
LEANNE: If I wanted to kill someone!? You think it’s me? Fuck you, Joe!
JOE: No. When I said ‘you’ I didn’t mean you. I meant ‘someone’.
(SOUND OF CHAIR MOVING)
LEANNE: Fuck you.
JOE: Leanne! Come on.
(FOOTSTEPS)
JOE: Leanne! Did you tell anyone where she was living?
LEANNE: Can’t believe you’re still obsessed by her. Been fucking dead seven years!
(DOOR SLAMS)
‘Wow,’ said Barb. ‘That must be the bit Joe was talking about when he said he had discovered something new about Sal and Leanne.’
‘Right. So Joe was definitely working on the piggyback theory, that Sal was killed by someone imitating the Strangler.’
‘The key information in there is that Leanne knew where she lived.’
‘Exactly. Here’s the third and last thing cut from the recordings. It’s from the section on Sal’s last night in Sydney.’
JOE: What’s your last memory of her that final night at the Marlborough?
DEV: She was in a short green dress, with a flared collar. Maybe a silver necklace. She always looked great. Luckily I’m good-looking too so I wasn’t jealous, but I have to work at it harder than she ever did.
GARY: I remember I said something I thought was funny, and she just stared at me. I thought, ‘That joke didn’t work,’ but then she burst out laughing. That big, generous, open-hearted laugh. Wish I could remember what I said. But then a few minutes later I saw her looking quite fragile, like she was carrying the weight of the world. I can still see her like that.
JOE: Can you remember what she was wearing that night?
GARY: Gee. Um … I think white overalls. Bangles?
(PAUSE)
GARY: It’s so sad.
VIV: The last time I saw her I think she was wearing a brown-and-red striped shirt. Long sleeved. I have quite a good memory.
SEB: I think she was wearing jeans with, maybe, a light blue T-shirt shirt with flowers on it.
LEANNE: How the fuck am I supposed to remember what she was wearing? Who cares? Jesus. This the bit where you want listeners to cry?
JOE: We didn’t talk much that night, but I remember her sitting there, laughing. I think she was wearing flared red pants and a black Rolling Stones T-shirt with the tongue – but maybe that’s from some other time. It all blurs.
‘Odd,’ said Barb. ‘Why cut out people discussing what Sal was wearing the last time people saw her?’
‘I know. It’s strange. And everyone remembers her wearing something different. Although, I suppose, that’s not unexpected, given it was seven years ago. And that’s everything. All those bits were all cut out of the individual interviews too, so it would have taken some time to do.’
‘That’s definitely everything you found that wasn’t on Joe’s laptop?’ Barb asked, eyeing him closely.
‘Yeah. That’s what I said.’
‘Just … double-checking. Okay. Let’s try and work out what happened the night Joe was killed. He’s at the club, and someone slips liquid morphine into his drink.’
‘Yep. He complained his lemonade tasted bad.’
‘He goes home, passes out, the killer uses the spare key to get in, shoots him up, watches him die, then … how do they get into his computer?’
‘Passcodes are often pretty simple, and … Joe’s had a fingerprint sensor, so the killer could have used Joe’s finger.’
Barb screwed up her face. ‘Yuck.’
‘They get into the computer, listen to all the podcast material, delete everything that points to him or her, then delete all the backups. It would have taken ages. I added up the interviews, Joe’s edited sections and his monologues. Two hours and forty-three minutes to listen to it all, then to do the cuts and deletions probably another half an hour or so.’
‘The deleted bits are clues,’ said Barb. ‘That’s why they were deleted. Leanne knowing Sal’s address is the big one. That makes her the main suspect, doesn’t it?’
Seb nodded. ‘Unless she told someone else. When Joe pressed her on that, she got angry and walked out.’
‘Could Leanne have been the person who assaulted Sal on her last night in Sydney?’
‘She hated Sal because of what happened with Joe. I can imagine her assaulting her. But the assault was sexual, which seems less likely.’
‘But not impossible. Love and hate. Two sides of the same coin. Why don’t we ask her?’
CHAPTER 71
They found Leanne working at the shop and asked for a quick word. Sue raised eyebrows, but it wasn’t busy and she nodded assent. They walked down to the jetty, ignoring the benches – Seb didn’t think the three of them sitting in a straight line was ideal for an interrogation – and instead stood in a triangle.
‘I understand that when you were interviewed by Joe for his podcast, you told him you visited Sal in the Blue Mountains, right?’ said Seb.
‘So?’
‘Joe asked you if you told anyone Sal’s address. You said no. Then he asked you again, and things got a bit heated and you walked out. Why?’
‘I was just sick of all his stupid questions. All that bullshit about her. Happened years ago. Ancient history.’
‘It seems you were one of only a few people who knew Sal’s address.’
‘Really? What about her flatmate? People who worked with her? Neighbours? The fucking water board?’
‘None of us knew it.’
‘Not hard to get someone’s address. Ring them, say you’re the electricity department and you’re checking something. Done it myself.’
Barb’s eyebrows raised.
‘Not to Sal,’ Leanne clarified.
‘When did you last see Joe?’ asked Barb.
‘At the club the night he died, same as everyone else.’
‘What did you talk about?’ asked Seb.
‘Nuthin’. Just normal stuff. He had asked me to do another interview, and he was hassling me about that.’
‘For his podcast?’ continued Seb. ‘Did he say why he wanted to do a second interview?’
‘Just said he had a few more things to ask.’
Seb tried to sound as ‘this is serious, I’m a police officer’ as he could. ‘Leanne, if you gave Sal’s address to anyone, I need to know.’
Leanne shrugged. ‘Didn’t.’
‘I’m a cop, Leanne. It’d be really easy to find something to arrest you for. Pat you down or find something in your room, yeah?’
‘I’ve had a bit of experience with cops, Seb, and that’s bullshit. You can’t do either of those things.’
She stared at him defiantly until he looked away. She was right. Even if she wasn’t, he’d been bluffing. He wasn’t going to arrest her.
‘Come on Leanne. It’s important.’
‘It’s fucking not. Sal was killed by a psycho. Joe overdosed. You two are just running round making shit up and hassling people cos you’ve got nothing better going on in your life.’
CHAPTER 72
Barb sat on her deck and wondered if Leanne was right. Was she only investigating Joe’s death because she had nothing else going on in her life? True, if she was CEO of Woolworths with five children and a busy social life, she wouldn’t have time. She had lived in the same place, done the same work and known the same people for years. Before all this, yes, she had been a bit bored. But none of that meant Joe wasn’t murdered.
She turned her mind to the third deleted podcast section, in which Sal’s friends had talked about what she had been wearing on the last night they saw her.
Why would that be important? But it must be, or else it wouldn’t have been deleted by, presumably, Joe’s killer.
Each of them remembered Sal wearing something different (except Leanne, who didn’t seem to care). At least three of Seb, Gary, Dev and Viv must have described Sal’s appearance wrongly. Was that the significant part? Could the killer (of who? Joe? Sal? Both? All of them?) have somehow inadvertently given something away by how they wrongly described Sal’s clothing? Could it be like that old murder mystery trope:
POLICEPERSON: Your wife has been murdered.
HUSBAND: Oh my God! Who shot her?
POLICEPERSON: How did you know she was shot?
A rosella called. Barb didn’t speak bird, but was pretty sure it meant ‘I’ll have a large serve of seed, thanks’. She headed toward the kitchen to fetch it, but stopped halfway, frowning, and grabbed her phone. She had asked Seb to email her the three deleted podcast bits. She clicked open the third. The bird would have to wait.
As she listened, she made a list on a scrap of paper. When she finished, she found Detective John Mayne’s number and called him.
‘Hello,’ she said, when he answered, ‘it’s Barb Young, the nosy psychic from Bullford Point.’
‘Oh, yes. Solved the case yet? Or are you just calling to tell me who’s going to win the footy this weekend?’
Barb pushed out a laugh. ‘Quick question. What was Sal wearing when she died?’
‘Why?’
‘Just curious.’
‘Are you getting anywhere?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She realised what he wanted. ‘But if we are, I’ll definitely let you know.’
‘Goodo. I’ll look it up and text you.’
She paced up and down, looking at her phone every few seconds. After a hundred years, or was it just a few minutes, he replied. She read, then took a few deep breaths to try to calm down.
She rang Monica again.
This time she answered. ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Monica. My name’s Barbara. I’m calling about your ex-flatmate Sally McIndoe.’
‘Right?’
‘There are some further enquiries being made. I believe you recently did an interview with Sal’s friend Joe, yes?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
Barb tried to keep the pace up and not give Monica too much time to start wondering who the heck she was. ‘Joe, unfortunately, died recently. From a drug overdose and, well, some things were a bit unusual. At any rate, I just have one question for you, if that’s okay.’
‘Um, sure.’
‘When Sal was living with you in Leura, did she buy any clothes?’
‘Umm, we did go to the markets together.’ She paused. ‘Sorry, who are you? Are you with the police?’
Rats. Was this the time to get into a long explanation about how she was involved? No. ‘I’m working with the police, yes.’ Kind of true.
‘Right.’ This seemed to satisfy her. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘This might help. Can you remember her buying any of these?’ Barb grabbed her list. ‘A short green dress with a flared collar. White overalls. A long-sleeved brown-and-red striped shirt. A light blue T-shirt with flowers on it. Flared red pants. A black Rolling Stones T-shirt with, you know, the tongue.’
‘Umm, I’m not sure … can I think about it?’
‘Of course, but is there any chance you could think about it quickly? It’s quite urgent.’
‘Sure.’
‘Maybe you have some old photos that might help.’
‘Good idea. I’ll have a look and get back to you as soon as I can.’
Barb ended the call, walked to her now tidy car and drove toward the police station. If Mayne and Monica, or even just one of them, got back to her, she might have solved a murder. Perhaps a few murders. Imagine! Solid, dependable, boring old Barb, a crime fighter. What would Dennis say?
She turned right off the main road and parked in front of the station, next to Seb’s police car. They had done this together, so it would be nice if she was with him when she found out. Unless it was … No. She was sure. It couldn’t be him.
She got out of the car and walked inside. There he was at his desk.
‘Hello. Back again. I have news,’ she said, hurrying through the drawbridge.
He stood, looking ashen-faced.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
He walked past her, back through the drawbridge to the front door and locked it, and then returned to his desk.
‘What is it?’ repeated Barb.
‘What news?’ he said flatly.
‘Well,’ she began hesitantly, her excitement leaking away like bathwater down the plughole. ‘I spoke to Sal’s flatmate Monica about clothing. You see, Joe asked them to describe what Sal wore the last time they saw her, and everyone said something different. But what if her killer got mixed up and described what she was wearing not on that last night in Sydney, but the last night they saw her, the night they killed her in Leura?
‘So I asked Detective Mayne what Sal was wearing when she was killed, and I asked Monica if Sal had bought any clothes up there. If someone on the podcast described her wearing an outfit that she only bought after she left Sydney, it suggests they saw her in Leura, which might mean they killed her, especially if it’s the outfit she was wearing when she was killed.’
She looked at Seb as she spoke, trying to gauge his reaction, but he had a strange, faraway look on his face she couldn’t read. She felt increasingly uneasy. Why wasn’t he excited?
‘Monica or Detective Mayne might text me any minute. I thought I’d come here so …’ She trailed off. ‘Why did you lock the door?’
‘We don’t want anyone walking in on this.’
‘Quite so. But … well, you locked the door before I told you it was important. I just said, “I’ve got news.” It might have simply been that Sue’s finally put chicken burgers on the menu.’
Seb stared vacantly at her, and a long, awkward silence hung. Seb and she hadn’t always agreed, but she couldn’t remember them ever having an awkward silence before.
Barb’s phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket.
‘Detective Mayne.’
‘Read it,’ he said hollowly.
She bent her head to the phone, suddenly scared. What if Mayne’s text said that Sal was wearing a light blue T-shirt with flowers on it when she was killed, the outfit Seb had said she wore that last night in Sydney? What if Monica texted that Sal had bought that T-shirt in Leura? She glanced over Seb’s shoulder to the back door. Was it also locked?
She read the text. ‘He says she was killed wearing white overalls.’
Her phone pinged again.
‘And Monica says, “I found a photo of Sal wearing something I remember her buying at the markets. White overalls.”’
JOE: Yeah, I guess. So, what happened?
MONICA: She arrived and Sal made her a cup of tea, but I had to leave for work then.
JOE: Did Sal say anything about what they talked about?
MONICA: Umm … She said they talked about you.
JOE: Me? Right. What?
MONICA: No idea. She just said, ‘We talked about Joe.’
The recording stopped.
‘That’s it. There’s also this extra bit from Joe’s interview with Leanne,’ said Seb. He clicked.
JOE: So apparently you visited Sal in the Blue Mountains.
LEANNE: Who told you that?
JOE: Her flatmate. Why did you want to see her? You didn’t even like her.
LEANNE: Wanted to talk to her about something.
JOE: But she was blanking the rest of us. Why did she agree to see you?
LEANNE: Cos I asked her nicely. A lot.
JOE: Why didn’t you tell me? I was really worried about her.
LEANNE: Cos she made me promise not to. And cos if I had of, you’d have run up there like a puppy dog.
JOE: What did you want to see her about?
LEANNE: Just wanted to talk to her. None of your business.
JOE: It’s years ago now. Sal’s gone. I’m just curious.
(SILENCE)
LEANNE: Once, on the radio, I heard this guy who’d been bitten by a shark. He said after it happened he was having nightmares about it. He went and talked to this shark expert who told him that the shark, after having a bite of him, was never going to come back. Sharks don’t like the taste of people. He wasn’t what the shark wanted. After hearing that, the nightmares stopped.
JOE: Okay.
LEANNE: I wanted to know if she was coming back.
JOE: To the band?
LEANNE: For you, dickhead. Cos if she did, I knew you’d dump me again.
JOE: Right.
(SILENCE)
JOE: And was she?
LEANNE: Nope. She was definite on that.
JOE: Huh. Fuck. Maybe you should have told me that.
LEANNE: Would you have believed me, or just grilled me for her address?
(SILENCE)
JOE: How was she?
LEANNE: She was … better. I always thought she used people to get what she wanted.
JOE: I don’t think that’s true …
LEANNE: Hey, you’re interviewing me, right? Not the other way round.
JOE: Okay, just saying.
LEANNE: I know, she was fucking perfect.
JOE: Anyway. How was she better?
LEANNE: She seemed more mellow. In Sydney she was all frazzled. She was more relaxed.
JOE: Did you ever tell anyone else her address?
LEANNE: Nope.
JOE: You sure? Cos hardly anyone knew where she lived.
LEANNE: What are you saying, Joe? I’m lying?
JOE: I’m not saying that. But what if Sal wasn’t killed by a multiple murderer. What if …?
LEANNE: Fuck’s sake. You think I told someone where she lived, and they killed her? That’s fucking crazy. Or maybe you think I killed her? That it? I’m the Blue Mountains Strangler? Seriously, you’ve gone fucking mental with this.
JOE: I’m just saying, everyone thinks it was a random killing by a lunatic. If you wanted to kill someone, it’s the perfect cover.
LEANNE: If I wanted to kill someone!? You think it’s me? Fuck you, Joe!
JOE: No. When I said ‘you’ I didn’t mean you. I meant ‘someone’.
(SOUND OF CHAIR MOVING)
LEANNE: Fuck you.
JOE: Leanne! Come on.
(FOOTSTEPS)
JOE: Leanne! Did you tell anyone where she was living?
LEANNE: Can’t believe you’re still obsessed by her. Been fucking dead seven years!
(DOOR SLAMS)
‘Wow,’ said Barb. ‘That must be the bit Joe was talking about when he said he had discovered something new about Sal and Leanne.’
‘Right. So Joe was definitely working on the piggyback theory, that Sal was killed by someone imitating the Strangler.’
‘The key information in there is that Leanne knew where she lived.’
‘Exactly. Here’s the third and last thing cut from the recordings. It’s from the section on Sal’s last night in Sydney.’
JOE: What’s your last memory of her that final night at the Marlborough?
DEV: She was in a short green dress, with a flared collar. Maybe a silver necklace. She always looked great. Luckily I’m good-looking too so I wasn’t jealous, but I have to work at it harder than she ever did.
GARY: I remember I said something I thought was funny, and she just stared at me. I thought, ‘That joke didn’t work,’ but then she burst out laughing. That big, generous, open-hearted laugh. Wish I could remember what I said. But then a few minutes later I saw her looking quite fragile, like she was carrying the weight of the world. I can still see her like that.
JOE: Can you remember what she was wearing that night?
GARY: Gee. Um … I think white overalls. Bangles?
(PAUSE)
GARY: It’s so sad.
VIV: The last time I saw her I think she was wearing a brown-and-red striped shirt. Long sleeved. I have quite a good memory.
SEB: I think she was wearing jeans with, maybe, a light blue T-shirt shirt with flowers on it.
LEANNE: How the fuck am I supposed to remember what she was wearing? Who cares? Jesus. This the bit where you want listeners to cry?
JOE: We didn’t talk much that night, but I remember her sitting there, laughing. I think she was wearing flared red pants and a black Rolling Stones T-shirt with the tongue – but maybe that’s from some other time. It all blurs.
‘Odd,’ said Barb. ‘Why cut out people discussing what Sal was wearing the last time people saw her?’
‘I know. It’s strange. And everyone remembers her wearing something different. Although, I suppose, that’s not unexpected, given it was seven years ago. And that’s everything. All those bits were all cut out of the individual interviews too, so it would have taken some time to do.’
‘That’s definitely everything you found that wasn’t on Joe’s laptop?’ Barb asked, eyeing him closely.
‘Yeah. That’s what I said.’
‘Just … double-checking. Okay. Let’s try and work out what happened the night Joe was killed. He’s at the club, and someone slips liquid morphine into his drink.’
‘Yep. He complained his lemonade tasted bad.’
‘He goes home, passes out, the killer uses the spare key to get in, shoots him up, watches him die, then … how do they get into his computer?’
‘Passcodes are often pretty simple, and … Joe’s had a fingerprint sensor, so the killer could have used Joe’s finger.’
Barb screwed up her face. ‘Yuck.’
‘They get into the computer, listen to all the podcast material, delete everything that points to him or her, then delete all the backups. It would have taken ages. I added up the interviews, Joe’s edited sections and his monologues. Two hours and forty-three minutes to listen to it all, then to do the cuts and deletions probably another half an hour or so.’
‘The deleted bits are clues,’ said Barb. ‘That’s why they were deleted. Leanne knowing Sal’s address is the big one. That makes her the main suspect, doesn’t it?’
Seb nodded. ‘Unless she told someone else. When Joe pressed her on that, she got angry and walked out.’
‘Could Leanne have been the person who assaulted Sal on her last night in Sydney?’
‘She hated Sal because of what happened with Joe. I can imagine her assaulting her. But the assault was sexual, which seems less likely.’
‘But not impossible. Love and hate. Two sides of the same coin. Why don’t we ask her?’
CHAPTER 71
They found Leanne working at the shop and asked for a quick word. Sue raised eyebrows, but it wasn’t busy and she nodded assent. They walked down to the jetty, ignoring the benches – Seb didn’t think the three of them sitting in a straight line was ideal for an interrogation – and instead stood in a triangle.
‘I understand that when you were interviewed by Joe for his podcast, you told him you visited Sal in the Blue Mountains, right?’ said Seb.
‘So?’
‘Joe asked you if you told anyone Sal’s address. You said no. Then he asked you again, and things got a bit heated and you walked out. Why?’
‘I was just sick of all his stupid questions. All that bullshit about her. Happened years ago. Ancient history.’
‘It seems you were one of only a few people who knew Sal’s address.’
‘Really? What about her flatmate? People who worked with her? Neighbours? The fucking water board?’
‘None of us knew it.’
‘Not hard to get someone’s address. Ring them, say you’re the electricity department and you’re checking something. Done it myself.’
Barb’s eyebrows raised.
‘Not to Sal,’ Leanne clarified.
‘When did you last see Joe?’ asked Barb.
‘At the club the night he died, same as everyone else.’
‘What did you talk about?’ asked Seb.
‘Nuthin’. Just normal stuff. He had asked me to do another interview, and he was hassling me about that.’
‘For his podcast?’ continued Seb. ‘Did he say why he wanted to do a second interview?’
‘Just said he had a few more things to ask.’
Seb tried to sound as ‘this is serious, I’m a police officer’ as he could. ‘Leanne, if you gave Sal’s address to anyone, I need to know.’
Leanne shrugged. ‘Didn’t.’
‘I’m a cop, Leanne. It’d be really easy to find something to arrest you for. Pat you down or find something in your room, yeah?’
‘I’ve had a bit of experience with cops, Seb, and that’s bullshit. You can’t do either of those things.’
She stared at him defiantly until he looked away. She was right. Even if she wasn’t, he’d been bluffing. He wasn’t going to arrest her.
‘Come on Leanne. It’s important.’
‘It’s fucking not. Sal was killed by a psycho. Joe overdosed. You two are just running round making shit up and hassling people cos you’ve got nothing better going on in your life.’
CHAPTER 72
Barb sat on her deck and wondered if Leanne was right. Was she only investigating Joe’s death because she had nothing else going on in her life? True, if she was CEO of Woolworths with five children and a busy social life, she wouldn’t have time. She had lived in the same place, done the same work and known the same people for years. Before all this, yes, she had been a bit bored. But none of that meant Joe wasn’t murdered.
She turned her mind to the third deleted podcast section, in which Sal’s friends had talked about what she had been wearing on the last night they saw her.
Why would that be important? But it must be, or else it wouldn’t have been deleted by, presumably, Joe’s killer.
Each of them remembered Sal wearing something different (except Leanne, who didn’t seem to care). At least three of Seb, Gary, Dev and Viv must have described Sal’s appearance wrongly. Was that the significant part? Could the killer (of who? Joe? Sal? Both? All of them?) have somehow inadvertently given something away by how they wrongly described Sal’s clothing? Could it be like that old murder mystery trope:
POLICEPERSON: Your wife has been murdered.
HUSBAND: Oh my God! Who shot her?
POLICEPERSON: How did you know she was shot?
A rosella called. Barb didn’t speak bird, but was pretty sure it meant ‘I’ll have a large serve of seed, thanks’. She headed toward the kitchen to fetch it, but stopped halfway, frowning, and grabbed her phone. She had asked Seb to email her the three deleted podcast bits. She clicked open the third. The bird would have to wait.
As she listened, she made a list on a scrap of paper. When she finished, she found Detective John Mayne’s number and called him.
‘Hello,’ she said, when he answered, ‘it’s Barb Young, the nosy psychic from Bullford Point.’
‘Oh, yes. Solved the case yet? Or are you just calling to tell me who’s going to win the footy this weekend?’
Barb pushed out a laugh. ‘Quick question. What was Sal wearing when she died?’
‘Why?’
‘Just curious.’
‘Are you getting anywhere?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She realised what he wanted. ‘But if we are, I’ll definitely let you know.’
‘Goodo. I’ll look it up and text you.’
She paced up and down, looking at her phone every few seconds. After a hundred years, or was it just a few minutes, he replied. She read, then took a few deep breaths to try to calm down.
She rang Monica again.
This time she answered. ‘Hello?’
‘Hello, Monica. My name’s Barbara. I’m calling about your ex-flatmate Sally McIndoe.’
‘Right?’
‘There are some further enquiries being made. I believe you recently did an interview with Sal’s friend Joe, yes?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
Barb tried to keep the pace up and not give Monica too much time to start wondering who the heck she was. ‘Joe, unfortunately, died recently. From a drug overdose and, well, some things were a bit unusual. At any rate, I just have one question for you, if that’s okay.’
‘Um, sure.’
‘When Sal was living with you in Leura, did she buy any clothes?’
‘Umm, we did go to the markets together.’ She paused. ‘Sorry, who are you? Are you with the police?’
Rats. Was this the time to get into a long explanation about how she was involved? No. ‘I’m working with the police, yes.’ Kind of true.
‘Right.’ This seemed to satisfy her. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘This might help. Can you remember her buying any of these?’ Barb grabbed her list. ‘A short green dress with a flared collar. White overalls. A long-sleeved brown-and-red striped shirt. A light blue T-shirt with flowers on it. Flared red pants. A black Rolling Stones T-shirt with, you know, the tongue.’
‘Umm, I’m not sure … can I think about it?’
‘Of course, but is there any chance you could think about it quickly? It’s quite urgent.’
‘Sure.’
‘Maybe you have some old photos that might help.’
‘Good idea. I’ll have a look and get back to you as soon as I can.’
Barb ended the call, walked to her now tidy car and drove toward the police station. If Mayne and Monica, or even just one of them, got back to her, she might have solved a murder. Perhaps a few murders. Imagine! Solid, dependable, boring old Barb, a crime fighter. What would Dennis say?
She turned right off the main road and parked in front of the station, next to Seb’s police car. They had done this together, so it would be nice if she was with him when she found out. Unless it was … No. She was sure. It couldn’t be him.
She got out of the car and walked inside. There he was at his desk.
‘Hello. Back again. I have news,’ she said, hurrying through the drawbridge.
He stood, looking ashen-faced.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
He walked past her, back through the drawbridge to the front door and locked it, and then returned to his desk.
‘What is it?’ repeated Barb.
‘What news?’ he said flatly.
‘Well,’ she began hesitantly, her excitement leaking away like bathwater down the plughole. ‘I spoke to Sal’s flatmate Monica about clothing. You see, Joe asked them to describe what Sal wore the last time they saw her, and everyone said something different. But what if her killer got mixed up and described what she was wearing not on that last night in Sydney, but the last night they saw her, the night they killed her in Leura?
‘So I asked Detective Mayne what Sal was wearing when she was killed, and I asked Monica if Sal had bought any clothes up there. If someone on the podcast described her wearing an outfit that she only bought after she left Sydney, it suggests they saw her in Leura, which might mean they killed her, especially if it’s the outfit she was wearing when she was killed.’
She looked at Seb as she spoke, trying to gauge his reaction, but he had a strange, faraway look on his face she couldn’t read. She felt increasingly uneasy. Why wasn’t he excited?
‘Monica or Detective Mayne might text me any minute. I thought I’d come here so …’ She trailed off. ‘Why did you lock the door?’
‘We don’t want anyone walking in on this.’
‘Quite so. But … well, you locked the door before I told you it was important. I just said, “I’ve got news.” It might have simply been that Sue’s finally put chicken burgers on the menu.’
Seb stared vacantly at her, and a long, awkward silence hung. Seb and she hadn’t always agreed, but she couldn’t remember them ever having an awkward silence before.
Barb’s phone pinged. She pulled it out of her pocket.
‘Detective Mayne.’
‘Read it,’ he said hollowly.
She bent her head to the phone, suddenly scared. What if Mayne’s text said that Sal was wearing a light blue T-shirt with flowers on it when she was killed, the outfit Seb had said she wore that last night in Sydney? What if Monica texted that Sal had bought that T-shirt in Leura? She glanced over Seb’s shoulder to the back door. Was it also locked?
She read the text. ‘He says she was killed wearing white overalls.’
Her phone pinged again.
‘And Monica says, “I found a photo of Sal wearing something I remember her buying at the markets. White overalls.”’
