Judgement Day, page 19
‘We understood you were expected at Saul Meyers’ retirement party?’
‘I ran into Grant earlier in the day, said I might make an appearance, but I got bogged down and Kaye was busy anyway so I skipped it.’
‘And the afternoon and evening of 1 May?’
‘Still at the retreat. Why do you want to know about that?’ he asked.
‘That’s the day Grant Phillips’ wife went missing.’
‘Ah. And you reckon the two things are definitely related? Suppose it would be too much of a coincidence. Some bloody anti–family law nutter then? I blame Hanson for this shit. And the Liberal Party, stirring it up when it suits them. Unconscionable.’ The barrister paused, then added, ‘I have heard Harriet is quite unstable – mentally, I mean. You sure she didn’t disappear by design?’
‘We aren’t sure about anything at this stage,’ Jillian said. ‘Can you think of any reason why Kaye might have engaged a law firm that specialises in family law and employment law?’
‘She did what?’ Michael O’Neil looked genuinely surprised. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’
‘Well, was it possible that she had instructed someone to prepare a Binding Financial Agreement for the two of you?’
O’Neil gave a weak laugh. ‘I can guarantee that whatever she was doing had nothing to do with a Binding Financial Agreement,’ he said. ‘For two reasons. The first is that Kaye and I had no intention of ever moving in together, let alone getting married. The second is that Kaye didn’t believe in them. It was her view that people should go into relationships with their wallets and hearts open. She’d never do one.’
‘She did one with her ex-husband.’
‘Yes, but that was at the end of their marriage, that’s different.’
‘Then do you have any idea why she might have transferred funds to FarrugiaPerriam? They’re a Sydney firm.’
‘FarrugiaPerriam?’ O’Neil’s eyes widened slightly. ‘Well now, that’s curious.’ He leaned back into the pillows as he considered. ‘She asked me, perhaps a few months ago, what the best law firm in Sydney was. I told her FarrugiaPerriam – I do a bit of Sydney work every so often and they’ve briefed me a bit. They do good stuff.’
‘She didn’t say why she wanted to know?’
‘No. She didn’t. And I didn’t ask.’
‘And she never mentioned needing legal advice about anything that was happening at work?’
‘You mean Saul telling her to bugger off whenever she tried to raise matters of security with him? No, she never said anything to me about taking that to a lawyer. But Kaye wasn’t expansive, you know. She was very mindful of confidentiality, of her ethical obligations, and she never wanted to create any conflict of interest for me. She also didn’t tend to burden others with her thoughts. Although Saul would say differently, of course. You know she requested multiple meetings with him last year about her safety? And he ignored them. God, I would have liked to see his face when he found out she was going to replace him. I’m sure he was hoping it would be Virginia Maiden. I’m sure Virginia was too.’
‘You don’t sound very keen on Judge Maiden?’ Jillian said, thinking back to that still unexplained conversation she had overheard between Maiden and Meyers.
‘Virginia is very . . .’ The barrister searched for the word. ‘Puritanical. Someone like that shouldn’t be in family law, she doesn’t have any natural empathy, any understanding of how the other half lives. Plus, she’s a real groomer. I’ve never liked that.’
‘Groomer?’ McClintock said, sounding alarmed. ‘What do you mean, exactly?’
‘Oh, not like a child sex offender, that’s not what I mean. Although I suppose there’s a commonality. I did a big defence, years ago, when I was in criminal law – a member of the clergy, a number of historical abuse allegations, scant evidence. The kids he’d allegedly molested all had poor mental health, were druggies, that type of thing. We were fairly confident we’d get him off but he was found guilty, which was a good thing as he almost certainly was guilty. But the character witnesses he produced for sentencing – politicians, senior barristers, bureaucrats, just extraordinary. I realised he’d groomed these people for years, they were all utterly convinced he was this incredible man, could do no wrong. And it’s the same with Virginia – she’s a complete dragon to the litigants, the solicitors, a lot of barristers, but if you saw her working the room at some function, you’d think it inconceivable that she’d ever behave the way I’ve personally seen her behave.’
Jillian asked, ‘Is it possible that Virginia might have wanted to harm Judge Bailey?’
‘I’m sure it is. But I’d be very surprised if she actually had. Virginia’s not one to get her hands dirty. At least I don’t think so. I suppose you never know.’
‘How did Judge Bailey sound on the night she died? We understand you spoke to her?’
‘Stressed, I’d say. She’d been working on a really nasty judgement.’ O’Neil considered for a moment. ‘Although I suspect part of her was also enjoying the drama. Everyone had an opinion on that case, you know, and on what she was planning to do with it. She’d basically said a thousand times where she stood.’
‘Where she stood with what?’ Jillian asked.
‘Sorry, I sometimes forget not everyone inhabits the same sad world as us. Family law property settlements – the law as it stands says that a number of things are to be taken into account when deciding how to divide property at the end of a relationship. You start by looking at whether it would even be just and equitable to do a property settlement. If it is, then you look at what each of the parties brought into the relationship, what they did during the relationship, what their future needs and earning capacity are, and then you consider whether the outcome of those things is just and equitable too. Kaye had a publicly expressed view that there were situations where one party might have come into the relationship with no assets of significance, and not earned much during the relationship, but due to family violence might be entitled to damages for pain inflicted on them. Now, while she didn’t say as much, to me anyway, I’d bet she was going to make an order for one of them, probably the wife, to receive damages. Have they released the judgement yet, by the way?’
‘Actually,’ Jillian said, ‘no one knows where it’s got to. The final hard copy, that is.’
O’Neil looked incredulous. ‘Well, there’d be an electronic copy of course, but that’s really odd . . .’
‘Did Kaye say whether she was expecting anyone to visit her at chambers that night?’ McClintock asked.
‘No, she didn’t.’ Michael O’Neil looked suddenly tired. His eyes started to close, apparently involuntarily. ‘No, she just said she’d see me when I got back.’ He made an effort to rouse himself. ‘Come to think of it, she said hopefully all the blood would be cleaned off the walls by then.’
The detectives returned to the lift, each quiet and contemplative. When the doors opened onto the lobby Jillian was inundated by the smell of hospital-grade disinfectant and lavender oil, the latter spilling out of a diffuser in the gift shop. She felt as if someone had pulled her lungs from her body and she staggered forward.
‘You okay?’ McClintock asked.
‘Fine,’ she tried to say, but instead made a gasping noise.
‘Here,’ he said, directing her towards a seat next to the public phone. ‘Sit.’
‘I just need the bathroom,’ she managed to say, and propelled herself in the opposite direction. Everything felt far away, blurry and unclear. She took herself into an alcove, sank to her knees and breathed deeply, again and again.
What the fuck was that about?
Chapter 23
They arrived at the station to find Mossman in a state of excited agitation. ‘I was just about to call,’ she said, ‘I think I might have something.’
She led the detectives to her desk and showed them an elaborate spreadsheet she’d created. ‘This was so I could keep track of everything,’ she said, pointing at the screen. ‘I asked the former clerks to send through the booking information for every client Bailey and Phillips had. I’m still working through it all – there’s a lot – but I’ve got a hit. A woman called Kim Surle.’
‘Kim,’ Jillian repeated. ‘As in, “Kim, 1 pm, DJ” – the post-it note in Bailey’s chambers.’
‘That’s right, and guess where she works?’
‘You’re joking. That obvious?’
‘What am I missing?’ said McClintock.
‘David Jones,’ Jillian told him. ‘One o’clock at David Jones.’ She looked at Mossman. ‘But how do you know she works at David Jones?’
‘The same way I know she liked a bunch of Brian Shanahan’s Facebook pages,’ Mossman said, again struggling to contain her excitement. She minimised the spreadsheet and returned to her internet browser. There on the screen was Kim Surle’s Facebook page.
Kim Surle. Single. David Jones. Women’s fashion – Australian designers. Melbourne.
Likes:
Everything you wanted to know about family law.
Which property valuer should I use?
Family Court Survivors association.
Survivors Victoria.
‘She’s an open book,’ Jillian said. ‘I’m surprised she doesn’t have her mobile number and address there too.’
‘I know, right? Luckily I have those for you anyway.’ Mossman pushed a post-it note towards Jillian. ‘I rang and she has her lunch break at twelve-thirty. She’s expecting you.’
‘Well done,’ McClintock said and Mossman beamed with pride. ‘That’s really good work.’
‘It is,’ Jillian agreed, wishing she’d got in first. ‘Really good work!’
Jillian had once worked in David Jones herself, as a Christmas casual when she was at university. As she and McClintock negotiated the crowded men’s cologne section with its shining metallic surfaces and glistening display bottles she felt a pang of nostalgia. Not for the job as such, although she’d enjoyed the people-watching and the staff discounts, but for the ease of that time in her life, the person she had been then.
They found Kim Surle in the downstairs coffee shop, sitting in the farthermost seat against an internal wall. She was in her early forties with grey-blonde hair and dejected eyes. Despite being neatly made up and attired, there was a coarseness to her, in the sag of her mouth, the way she slumped over her coffee cup. She had taken her shoes off under the table and stretched her stockinged feet onto the seat opposite.
‘It’s not bad work,’ she told Jillian as McClintock ordered drinks for the three of them from a bow-tied barista. ‘We get celebrities sometimes, and the girls I work with are lovely. But your legs are killing you by the end of the day. I’ve told my own girls, if you end up in retail, get a job at ALDI, they get to sit down. I do get a thirty per cent discount, but.’
When McClintock returned to the table Kim put her feet down and her shoes back on. She seemed suddenly nervous.
‘As my colleague explained on the phone,’ Jillian began, ‘we’re investigating the murder of Judge Kaye Bailey, which you may have seen in the news recently. Could you tell us the last time you saw Judge Bailey?’
Kim Surle answered without hesitation. ‘It was the eighteenth, I remember because it was my mum’s birthday.’
‘And did you catch up often? We understand she represented you in a family law matter some years ago.’
‘She was my lawyer in my property settlement with Ted, my ex. I never caught up with her after that, until last month,’ Kim said. ‘I was in the fitting rooms a few weeks ago, working away. Kaye was in there trying something on, can’t remember what, but she needed a bigger size and pressed the assist button. I went to help her and she recognised me straightaway, remembered my name. It took me a minute and when I put it together, I wasn’t that happy to see her, I’ll admit.’
‘We understand Kaye worked primarily with family violence victims at that time . . .’ McClintock had adopted the same gentle tone he’d had with Lisa Nettle.
‘Oh, Ted wasn’t violent,’ Kim said, surprised. ‘No, he was just in denial about the end of the marriage. He just couldn’t cope with it. He stayed in the house and didn’t want to give me anything. I had three kids and no money. I only took him to court as a last resort.’
‘Why were you not happy to see her then?’ Jillian asked.
Kim looked confused for a moment. ‘I’d just put all that behind me, you know,’ she said after a pause. ‘The court stuff, it was so stressful. Worst time in my life.’
‘But you agreed to catch up for a coffee?’
‘Yes. I didn’t really want to but she said she’d pay, just wanted to see how I was going and all that . . .’
‘You’re saying it was Kaye who wanted to catch up?’ Jillian clarified. This struck her as strange. Why would the judge seek out an old client in this way?
‘That’s right,’ said Kim. ‘She just wanted to see how I was, she said. She remembered the girls too, knew their names.’
‘And when you caught up,’ McClintock said, ‘what did you talk about? Anything in particular?’
‘She asked after the girls again, what they were interested in, where they were up to in school, and about me – where I was living, how work was – small talk, you know?’ Kim looked down at her hands. ‘To think she was killed that same night, I can’t believe it. We were sitting right here.’
‘And how did she seem that day?’ Jillian said.
‘She was nice, just like I remembered. She told me she was a judge now and that . . .’
Kim trailed off and Jillian had the impression there was something she wasn’t telling them.
‘Yes?’ she prompted.
‘She just, like, she was a good person,’ Kim said. ‘I feel awful for her family.’
‘Were you aware that since Judge Bailey was murdered, a woman she knew has gone missing?’ McClintock asked. ‘Harriet Phillips. She’s married to the man who represented you in court back then – Grant Phillips.’
‘Yes, I remember,’ Kim said thoughtfully. ‘So they’re connected? You reckon the other lady is dead too?’
‘We aren’t sure. But until we know more we’re proceeding on the basis that her disappearance is related to Judge Bailey’s murder.’
‘Fair enough.’ Kim shrugged.
‘Tell me,’ Jillian said, ‘how did you find Grant Phillips when he was your barrister?’
Kim looked closely at Jillian, as though trying to deduce something. ‘He was fine,’ she said eventually. ‘Got me what I wanted and didn’t charge me.’
‘He acted for you pro bono, you’re saying?’ Jillian said.
‘Yes. Like I said, I didn’t have much back then. Don’t have much more these days, actually.’ Kim looked at her mobile and said, ‘I need to get back now.’
‘Just for our records, Kim, can you tell us where you were in the early morning of the nineteenth of April?’
Kim sighed. ‘The girls and I went to netball, picked up some Macca’s on the way home, and then watched something, can’t remember what. We would all have been asleep by ten, though.’
‘And you didn’t leave the house again at all?’
‘No.’
‘And on the first of May, after midday?’
‘Was that when the woman went missing?’ Kim pulled up her calendar on her phone. ‘I was here, working.’
‘Do you know a Brian Shanahan?’ McClintock asked.
‘Brian Shanahan,’ Kim Surle repeated blankly. ‘I don’t think so. Who is he?’
‘He runs a bunch of Facebook sites for people he calls family law victims. We can see you were involved in a few of his pages.’
‘Was I? When? I haven’t used Facebook in years, I don’t think . . .’
McClintock took out his phone and showed her screen captures of her membership of various groups. ‘See? There.’
Kim squinted at the phone. ‘God, they’re from five or six years ago, whenever everyone was getting on Facebook. The girls set it up for me. I don’t even know what my password is anymore. I’m guessing this was just when I was joining anything that got suggested to me.’ She stood up and put her bag over her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go now. I hope you catch whoever did it.’ She pushed her chair back in and turned towards the escalators.
‘That was weird, right?’ Jillian said when Kim had gone.
‘Yeah, I don’t think she was telling us everything.’
‘And she was a bit dark on Phillips even though he acted for her pro bono.’
‘She’s a strange unit,’ McClintock said. ‘That’s for sure. Doesn’t exactly have criminal mastermind vibes, though.’
‘No,’ Jillian agreed, ‘she doesn’t.’
Chapter 24
Permission for Jillian and McClintock to attend the Brighton residence of Rahul Sharma was finally provided the following Monday after several days of protracted negotiations. The doctor’s lawyer, John Hammond, had demanded the detectives sign non-disclosure agreements and provide a list of interview questions in advance. When it was explained to him that this was not something Victoria Police could do, there had been several hours of silence before Des received an email inviting the detectives to Dr Sharma’s home. The implication was that the interview would be an act of goodwill on his part, unrelated to any moral or legal imperative to assist the police.
‘The lawyer’s a fucking dickhead,’ Des warned them. ‘Total weasel. He’s adamant nothing is happening without him present.’
Jillian was subdued on the drive there. The last few days had been painfully slow as she was forced to wait for other people in order to progress the investigations. Bailey’s work emails had finally been disseminated and read through in their entirety, and had provided nothing beyond the threats that they were already aware of, and, as O’Neil had promised, several emails from Bailey to the chief judge requesting a meeting to discuss ‘serious matters’. There was no email from Saul Meyers regarding the suspension of the proximity cards, which meant, Jillian reflected, that Bailey and her associates were likely the only people in the building unaware that the building was unsecured on the night of her death. The judge’s phone, too, had finally revealed small and unsatisfying pieces of information – a screen capture of a ticket to an exhibition and a photograph of a dress hanging on a rack.
