The Family Cleaner, page 21
“I am sick of everyone pushing me around. No more. You do what you have to do, but after what they did to me, I don’t care.”
“What happened?”
“I was bailed up in my carpark, threatened with a gun. Blew out my eardrum, I’m totally deaf in one ear.”
Kleinberg, in Bendigo for the day, paced the office as his caller relayed the message. “Okay, well thanks, it was a long shot.”
He ended the call and yelled out, “Brownsill, you and Johnson in here, now.”
“Sit,” he said as they entered. “Someone just cancelled out our leverage.”
They looked at each other. “Your what?” Brownsill said.
“The leverage with the lawyer to find out where Carter is.”
“Who else knew?” Brownsill said.
“You, me, Johnson. That’s it.”
Johnson shuffled his feet and looked at the floor, swallowing hard.
“I may have told Siobhan.”
Kleinberg stopped pacing, went red in the face and spittle shot out of his mouth. “Why, detective? Why would you do that?”
“Well ... I was trying to find out about the sexual abuse, and I took her out to dinner. She said that based on what she knew of David, we wouldn’t catch him. He wouldn’t be back.”
Kleinberg pushed his balled fists into the tabletop, “And how the fuck does she know about any of this?” Kleinberg, now beetroot, glared.
“He called her before he left. He’s kept in touch over the years. And when she said we wouldn’t catch him ’cause he was too smart, it was like she was in awe of him. I guess I just blurted out that we had a way to force him back.”
“Just sort of came out because you wanted to show what a clever cop you are, correct? Brownsill, you get her in here. Johnson, you get out of my sight.”
“She’s played you, mate,” Brownsill said to a retreating Johnson. “I reckon she was seriously pissed off when you looked at that file. She’s got even with you big time.”
Bendigo Police Station, 31st January 2019
Brownsill escorted Siobhan into the interview room. “Thanks for coming in.”
She nodded and sat with her shoulder bag on her lap. It didn’t look like she was planning on staying long.
“Pretty spartan,” she said and waved her free hand around the room.
“Yes, but I guess most people aren’t here for the surroundings,” Brownsill replied.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“A while since we’ve talked. I’m thinking not since that charity dinner, yes?” Brownsill said.
“Yes. Since Aaron and I stopped seeing each other we’ve moved in different circles.”
“Anybody new in your life?”
“No, just work and looking after my horses, that’s about it.”
“I guess you know why I asked you to come in?”
“If it’s to ask about David Carter, I didn’t bring my files with me, but then I guess Aaron can tell you what’s in them,” she replied.
“Ouch! Well, yes, that would be unethical wouldn’t it ...” He shuffled the papers in his file. “I wanted to know if you’ve heard from Carter lately, say the past few days.”
“Jim, I’m not sure how my private conversations are relevant to anything you might be doing.”
“How would you describe your relationship with David Carter? Is he a friend, a client?”
“He started as a client when he was a child and I treated him for a short while when he came back. I wouldn’t classify him as a friend. Just someone I know.”
“Do you like him though?”
“I like what he has done with his life. It’s well known he had a very unfortunate upbringing and he seems to be making a good fist of things despite that. So it’s not a matter of liking him, so much as appreciating where he has arrived.”
“So you think you know him? Would it surprise you to know that there’s another side to him?
“It sounds to me there’s a lot you don’t know, like where he is.”
Brownsill pushed his file to the centre of the table and sighed.
“Siobhan, we believe that David Carter is involved with the murder of his relatives. We also believe that he has been the key player in the drug trade stretching from Bendigo down through the Surf Coast. We believe he has killed people trying to muscle in on his territory as well as a former officer he served under in Afghanistan. Right now, we know he left for Vanuatu and maybe presently in Mexico. So yes, there is a lot that we think we know about him, and we need your help.”
Siobhan stared at the tabletop and started to say something then hesitated. She placed her shoulder bag on the table, took a deep breath and put her elbows on the table, resting her head in her hands.
“You just said a lot of ‘believe this’ and ‘believe that’, but do you have any proof of any of this, or is it just conjecture?”
“We have a truckload of circumstantial evidence and gaps in the story he has given us. The inspector running this investigation is convinced that David is guilty.”
“I am unsure what else I can say. As I said before, I treated him on and off from when he was twelve years old, and we’ve kept in touch over time. He called me recently and told me he was going away for an extended time ‘to surf and chill out’, then again two nights ago and asked if I knew what was happening concerning the murder investigations. End of story.”
“And what did you tell him?”
She thought for a while. “I’m not sure what I should say. I feel I owe him. He supports a cause I believe in.”
“How do you think he provides that support on an army pension and cutting grass around Fairhaven? How does he support himself? He doesn’t seem to do much work.”
“I told him that you had a way to force him to return, that’s how Aaron put it when he told me. He said he thought he knew what that was. That’s all I know.”
“Why did he call you?”
“He calls me now and then, asks if I need more funding for the cause he supports, asks what I’m up to. We chat. That’s it.”
“Why ask if you knew about the investigation? Why now?”
“Maybe somebody saw me with Aaron? We were at the Botanical.”
“Siobhan, would you answer one question for me?”
“That all depends on whether answering it breaches a client’s confidentiality.”
“Did you ever get the sense that David had been sexually abused by his relations?”
Siobhan thought about the question and whether an answer one way or another could be a breach of her obligation.
“No.”
“No you won’t answer, or no you never got a sense of it.”
“I never had the feeling he’d been sexually abused. And that’s all I will say.”
“Did you ever have anything to do with his cousin Jessica Chisholm?”
Jessica shifted in her chair, picked up her shoulder bag, and moved it closer to her.
“A little, I saw her a few times when she was young, about twelve from memory. I know that she and David used to spend time together when they were young. I know he cares for her.”
“We are having trouble understanding why all of that family except for her are dead. Brownsill said.
Siobhan didn’t reply.
“Don’t you think it’s odd?”
“Jim, I suspect that Jessica, like David, was abused, one way or another when she was young. I don’t know much about her but being the only female child in the family, the fact that she left Bendigo and the family almost as soon as she could; well it stands to reason that something was not right.”
“You see our dilemma though. Everyone one of those family members except the one David Carter got along with is dead.”
Siobhan drove home confused and worried. She knew David was intelligent, she knew he was resourceful. She knew he had access to a lot more money than he should. Could all that Brownsill told her be true?
She arrived home and sorted through her wine collection.
I’m going to need a good drop while I contemplate this.
After selecting a Heathcote Shiraz from the rack, she went into her home office. She sat in her swivel chair, spun around, unlocked her filing cabinet and rifled through till she found David’s file. She turned back placed it in the centre of her desk and opened the wine. She poured a glass, looked at the file and then poured some more. She sipped and thumbed the file, stopping here and there to re-read a note.
As she flicked a page, one comment she had written jumped out:
“I don’t fight back because I am out of control; I fight back to get even.”
She pushed the file away and stared out of the window.
Could he do it? Could he set up an elaborate plan to retaliate against the wrong done to him all those years ago?
She pulled the file back towards her and continued reading.
“David continues to feel that getting back at someone who has wronged him is justified. We’ve made some progress along that path."
Then:
“I was getting even, she did something wrong to me. I just stopped her.”
She closed the file, sipped her shiraz, and recalled a phrase a uni professor used to quote from Aristotle: “Give me a child until he is seven and I will show you the man.”
Oh god, with all that happened to him as a child ...
“He could have done this,” she said aloud.
She shuffled through her other files and pulled out Jessica Chisholm’s.
“Jessica refuses to tell me what has happened. Gets very upset when I ask, and I have to stop pressing her on it. Her teacher believes something is happening at home. Police say they have investigated but found nothing.”
Siobhan leaned back into the chair and took a glug of wine.
Who told her to see me? She sat up straight. Mrs Green, the same teacher who had taught David!
She found a telephone number scribbled on Jessica’s file and called, hoping she was still around.
“Hello, Green residence,” an older-sounding woman said.
“Mrs Green, it’s Siobhan Welling. You may not remember me; I spoke with you about David Carter and Jessica Chisholm many years ago.”
“I remember, yes, I remember. I can’t remember what I did yesterday, but I can remember what I did twenty years ago,” she answered and chuckled. “How can I help you?”
“Mrs Green, you sent Jessica Chisholm to see me, although she only came three times. I was wondering if you remembered why you sent her to see me.”
“Jessica, yes, now let me think ... oh, I remember, it was about her crying all the time and not wanting to go home. She was such a clever girl, nothing like her silly brothers. And those parents of hers; horrid people.”
“Was there anything else? Another reason why you said she should see me?”
“Oh yes, the bruises. She fainted one day at school and I took her jumper off to cool her down. That’s when I saw the bruises, all over they were. I called the police and they investigated, but her mother said she’d fallen off her horse so they left it at that. I knew there was more so I said she should talk with you.” She paused and clicked her tongue. “You say she only saw you three times? That can’t be right. I used to walk her to see you every week.”
“No, I saw her three times, and then she just stopped coming.”
“I really can’t tell you more. She seemed to be better as she moved into the next class and I lost contact with her. Sorry, but I can’t help you any more than that.”
Siobhan ended the call and picked up the file.
Jessica, what happened to you?
Chapter 25
Police Video Conference, 6th February 2019
“Okay, we all have a bit on, so let’s move this through. DS Smyth, your update please, then DS Jefferson, I am sure we are all waiting with bated breath for your latest Jessica interview,” Kleinberg said.
“Nothing new from what I told you on the twenty-fifth. No forensics on the ute. The pathologist wants to know who to release the body to,” Smyth said.
“I guess then it’s over to you, Jefferson, enlighten us,” Kleinberg said.
“I saw her yesterday. Like last time I gave her rough details of her brother’s death, to which she commented, “It’s a shame, Jake wasn’t so bad. Just a useless clod.”
No one spoke for a while.
“I asked her if she needed any assistance in dealing with the news and she shook her head but said nothing.”
“And that’s it?” Kleinberg said.
“No, I reminded her that she still hadn’t made arrangements about her other brother’s body and her reply was that she would get the people in Bendigo to arrange things since she assumed they should all be buried in Bendigo.”
“Anything you could read from her at all?” Brownsill said.
“Look I might be imagining things, but the way she sat back in her chair when I told her about Jake. There was a sense of finality. I might be imagining it.”
Bendigo Police Station, 11th February 2019
Kleinberg leaned back in the chair and rubbed his temples. The jangling phone didn’t help his headache.
“Morning, sir, it’s Jefferson, have I got you at a good time?”
“Go ahead.”
“Sir, if we agree that what’s been done to these vics suggests sexual revenge and we don’t believe Carter wasn’t sexually abused, then doesn’t that just leave Jessica in the frame?”
“I agree if she was abused it’s a motive, but we have no proof she was. I’ll follow up on the forensic psych’s comments on the file. He was talking to the various pathologists involved to see if he could get a read on the injuries.”
“Meaning, I presume, if they are precise or jagged, implying the level of anger versus control of the person inflicting them,” Jefferson said.
“Yes, and whether it’s the same person, the strength of the perpetrator, and if they are left- or right-handed.”
“So I guess we have to see what the experts have to say?” Jefferson said.
“Are you planning any more visits to her?”
“Yes, sir. I think I need to squeeze her, but I’d like to see the forensics results first.”
“I’ll chase it up. Talk soon.”
It was evident from his tone that the forensic psychologist hadn’t appreciated Kleinberg’s call but said he would speed things along. There was an inconsistency in the description of the cuts that had been inflicted on Jake that needed following up.
Later that day Kleinberg received and reviewed the final forensic report and posted it to the document folder.
“Johnson, you out there?” he called through his door.
“Sir.”
“Arrange a video call for tomorrow please.”
Police Video Conference, 12th February 2019
“I take it you’ve all read the report I posted yesterday,” Kleinberg said. “Jefferson, I’m interested in your views first, and then maybe you can fill us in on how you plan to tackle Ms Chisholm.”
“Well, if I read this right, all the forensics guys believe that, except for Jake, it’s the same person. They believe the perp is in control of themselves when they are doing this. All the wounds appear to have been made by a lefty, except for Jake’s. Also, whoever cut Jake was hesitant. The three others ... I guess it’s hard to be conclusive when the genitals are removed like that,” Jefferson said.
“Blows up the theory that this is all down to Carter. He’s good at covering his tracks but switching hands and all that seems like a stretch,” Brownsill said.
“The report suggests that it’s not a male perp. At least not a strong person, suggesting not a male.”
“What do you want to do vis-à-vis Jessica, Jefferson?” Kleinberg asked.
“We need to place Jessica at the crime scenes or, at the very least, prove that she was near them. I’ve asked my boss to get access to her leave details to see if we can determine where she was on the dates we have identified. I need those details before I talk to her,” Jefferson replied.
“Well done, let me know if you need me to nudge anyone,” Kleinberg said.
“So do we think Carter is out of the frame?” Smyth asked.
“No,” Kleinberg said. “I think he’s involved but I can’t tell how. We’ve proven that he could, repeat, could have been near the crime scenes. The whole ‘who is Tim Mathieson thing’ confuses the picture. Was he in Brisbane? We know it wasn’t Carter in the Margaret River area. Was he near Canberra at the right time? Then we have the complication of Prosser’s shootings in Geelong and Smyth’s dead Lieutenant Brown in Brisbane. My worry is we can’t nail anyone to the wall with all that we have.”
“And now we don’t know where he or his friend is,” Prosser said.
“Jefferson, you hold the key to this. You need to find out if Jessica Chisholm could have been near these crime scenes. If she can show that she wasn’t, then we’re back to square one.”
“Sir,” Prosser said, “I assume we’re discounting the professor’s theory about Carter having two personalities. I thought it was a stretch when I heard it, but now I take it it’s been rejected?”
“I believe so,” Kleinberg replied.
Kleinberg read the room and said, “Listen, everyone, I understand this is frustrating. You need to avoid getting defensive and territorial. This is a joint investigation, and when we crack it I promise every one of you will get the credit that’s due. So can we all just place the frustration and, if I might add, the egos back into a box and refocus.”
“Fair enough, Inspector,” Prosser said. “Good call out.”
Balmain Police Station, 20th February 2019
“Thanks for coming in, Jessica. This is Constable Tomlinson; he’ll be assisting me today. Are we okay to start?” Jefferson said.
Jessica nodded and looked blankly at the wall behind Jefferson.
Oh, fun, it’s going to be one of those sessions, Jefferson thought.
