The Family Cleaner, page 22
Tomlinson pressed start on the recording device.
“Interview with Ms Jessica Chisholm at three pm on the twentieth February 2019, at Balmain police station Present are DS Jefferson, speaking, Constable Tomlinson, Ms Jessica Chisholm and her solicitor, Ms Emma Wiley,” Jefferson said. “Jessica, you are aware that the purpose of this interview is to establish facts about your whereabouts at various times over the past twelve months. We need confirmation of these dates to rule you out as a suspect involving the deaths of your family members.”
“As I understood it, Ms Chisholm at this point is not a suspect. She hasn’t been cautioned as far as I am aware,” Emma said.
“That’s correct, we just need to ask about these dates and a few other related questions,” Jefferson said and handed over a list listing the dates in question.
“Would you be more specific about the locations and the dates, so we can understand the context?” Emma asked.
“Specifically, we need Ms Chisholm to confirm her whereabouts across three sets of dates that align with the approximate dates of the disappearances in Bendigo, Canberra and Blackwater.”
“That’s a lot to recall without recourse to my diary,” Jessica said.
“If it’s any help, we’ve established that you were on leave at each of the relevant dates.”
“She was on leave on three other occasions across the year in question,” Emma said. “From what I can see it seems to be coincidental.”
Never been a big fan of coincidence. “Maybe, but that’s part of what we need to check,” Jefferson said.
“So, to be clear, she was on leave six times across the range of your enquiry. Three of which may or may not align with the disappearance of the family members. And, judging from this list, these periods are quite broad.”
“Correct,” Jefferson said.
“I would have to check my diary, but they look about right. At least I recall having a week off during that period at the beginning of last year. I was on a driving holiday along the Murray River. The other dates, that week in March and that week in May, I’d need to check. I could have been on leave as we tend to take off a week here and there rather than have longer holidays.”
“And where do you go on these weeklong breaks?” Jefferson asked.
Jessica looked at her solicitor who nodded.
“We go to car rallies, Targa-type events and long drives on great roads. I have a Porsche Boxster and we love driving. It’s our thing.”
“By our, you mean you and your partner?”
“My wife.”
“Sorry, your wife,” Jefferson hesitated and looked at her notes. “Do you know how to operate heavy equipment?”
Jessica looked surprised. “That’s random.”
“Where are you going with this?” Emma asked.
“Just wanted to know if Jessica could operate heavy equipment, like front-end loaders and the like.”
The solicitor started to pack her holdall. “That question is well outside the scope of what we were asked to respond to; this interview is over.”
Jessica put her hand on Emma’s arm. “It’s okay, I’m happy to answer that. I grew up on a farm, so operating tractors and front-end loaders is second nature to me. Anything mechanical I’m interested in.”
“That’s enough, Jess. This was supposed to be about your leave dates. I strongly advise that you don’t answer anymore.”
Jessica shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“And yet you brought along your solicitor,” Tomlinson blurted out. The look on his face suggested he wished he had shut up.
Jessica gave him a withering glare. “Just keep pressing the buttons, constable.”
“We’re done,” Emma said and stood.” Jessica, we’re finished.”
“Would you please supply us with the dates of your leave going back to January 1st, 2018, and where you went during those breaks?” Jefferson asked.
“She will confirm the dates, the rest is off-limits,” Emma replied as she closed the door.
“What the fuck? Who does she think she is?” Tomlinson said.
“She just enjoyed smacking you down, Tomo. Don’t worry, she just thinks she’s clever. That’s good, your comment niggled her but next time, leave the questions to me.”
Police Video Conference, 27th February 2019
“Where are we? Brownsill, start us off,” Kleinberg asked.
“Both brothers were buried in Bendigo yesterday. A few people attended, friends of the boys,” Brownsill said. “And no, Jessica didn’t attend.”
“As much as these people seem to have been universally disliked, there is something tragic about this. The whole family wiped away. Just seems, I don’t know, pathetic if that’s an appropriate word. But hell, it seems complete!” Prosser said.
“It gives me extra incentive to find whoever did all this,” Brownsill said. “If that makes sense.”
“I understand that but that’s enough navel-gazing. Smyth, what have you got,” Kleinberg said.
“A complication,” Smyth said.
“Another? Pray tell.”
“We’ve checked the security footage for the date the Tim Mathieson is supposed to have flown from Perth to Brisbane.”
“And?”
“Whoever flew as Tim Mathieson, it wasn’t David Carter!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously,” an exasperated Prosser exclaimed. “Every time we take a step forward, we take two back.”
“I checked and rechecked both flights from Perth that day. We can account for everyone on both flights, and this Tim Mathieson individual, who flew from Perth was a mid-fifties dude, bald as a badger. And he wasn’t shy about being seen, he caused a bit of a ruckus at baggage collection.”
“If Carter arranged that, why?” Prosser said.
“We should have checked that before. I just assumed it was Carter travelling as Tim Mathieson,” Kleinberg said. “This guy, he’s running rings around us. Just when we think we have him trapped he throws us a curly one.”
“But the order is wrong anyway. Why would he fly to Brisbane, go to Blackwater, do Jake and then Brown? Brown was shot after Jake went missing,” Smyth said.
“So how did Carter get to Blackwater and Brisbane? We know we saw him at Perth Airport on that day. We know he was in Perth sometime later, returning to Melbourne. We’re damn sure it wasn’t him doing a wine tour of Margaret River. So how did he get to Queensland?” Brownsill said.
“Safe to say he flew and didn’t drive,” Prosser said.
“There are a bunch of other flights from Perth to Queensland. Cairns, Gold Coast, Rocky itself. They don’t have anywhere near the security coverage we would need to pin him down,” Smyth said.
“Can we track our mystery man? Find out why he flew as Tim Mathieson since we all know it wasn’t his real name,” Jefferson said.
“It must have been set-up. I mean, what are the odds there’s another Tim Bloody Mathieson,” Prosser said.
“We’re talking weeks ago. Even if he got a cab or a bus into the city, who would remember him? Mind you, we could get lucky and see if he treated himself to a hire car,” Smyth said.
“If he’s gone to this much trouble, do you think he’d be that slack? But, hey, it’s worth a chance. Check it out,” Kleinberg said. “This case is going to drive me to drink.”
“Not an issue for me, I’m already there,” Prosser said to a smattering of chuckling.
“Assuming this guy is from the West, we need to circulate a photo. Someone will know him,” Kleinberg said. “Johnson, will you do that? So, DS Jefferson, cheer us all up with news on your interview with Jessica,” Kleinberg said.
“Wish I could, Inspector. I have average news and less average news. She turned up with her lawyer, who I’ve just found out is a close friend. She’s confirmed the dates only, along with three other dates when she took leave.”
“She wouldn’t confirm where she was, just the dates?” Kleinberg said.
“Correct.”
“Is that the average news or the less average news?”
“That’s the less average. The other news is that she can operate heavy-duty vehicles like front-end loaders. Indeed was quite proud of the fact.”
“Well, it’s a start. She would have to get from Sydney to Bendigo, Canberra, and Blackwater in the time slots we have. Could she do that?” Kleinberg said.
“In a canter, she drives a Porsche and loves driving,” Jefferson said.
“Of course she does!” Brownsill said.
“Right. Smyth, do you need help tracking all those flights?”
“I will do, sir. It’s only two of us working on the case here in Rocky, and I’m having a bit of trouble getting traction from Brisbane.”
“I’ll sort that. Jefferson, how are you going to spend your week?”
“I’m digging around trying to pin down locations, use of credit cards and the like. But to be honest, these two, if they are working together, they are pretty on top of the detail. I’m not sure how we catch a slip-up.”
“They always slip up. All crooks slip up eventually. And Prosser, how’s your body count down there in Geelong?”
“Seems to me that with David Carter away, all things are quiet on the Surf Coast front.”
“And how are the local users feeling about the supply?”
“Rumour has it the price of hash and white powder has shot through the roof. There’s no supply, and now one or two of the Melbourne gangs are moving in to take up the slack. Should get interesting.”
“Okay, let’s stay focused and keep trawling, we’ll get another break soon.”
Kleinberg ended the call.
“Do you believe that inspector?” Brownsill said to Kleinberg.
“I have to, DS, I have to. Indeed, I am going to request a complete file review, just like I did when I started. A fresh set of eyes just to see if we’ve glossed over something. I have a Senior DS coming in from Melbourne to re-review every document, lead ... everything. Okay, well, crack on. Let’s see what we can find.”
Chapter 26
Bendigo, 5th March 2019
Siobhan opened her email.
Hi S, hope you are well. The surf is great. Let me know if you are low on funds. Hope to speak with you soon. D
She replied:
David, you need to call me. Police interviewed me. I am concerned with what they are asking about you and Jessica. You know that I saw her briefly when she was much younger, and she told me she had shared that with you. I am very concerned.
Siobhan.
She didn’t recognise the +52-country code when her phone rang shortly after she had sent the email. Probably another scammer. But she answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Siobhan, it’s David. I got your email; you sound a bit agitated.”
“David, the police believe you’re involved in the murder of your relatives.”
“I did not, repeat, did not kill my relatives. I would have been quite happy to, but I didn’t.”
“Don’t say that David. You can’t say you would have done it.”
“Okay, okay. But I didn’t kill them.”
Neither spoke for a while.
“But you know who did?” Siobhan asked.
“I’m not answering that,” he said with evident annoyance.
“And what about these other shootings? They say you killed some officer you served with and some gangster bikers in Geelong.”
“Wow, I have been busy. Siobhan, they’re reaching. They have murders they can’t solve, I’m not around to blame and it’s driving them nuts.”
Siobhan processed what she just heard, not speaking.
“So, did you just want a call to ask me that, or was there something else?” David said.
“Where are you?”
“You don’t need to know, but the surf is excellent.”
“The police have a view that sexual abuse could be at the core of the murder of the Chisholm family,” Siobhan said.
“Do they? Siobhan, they made my life crap but sexual abuse wasn’t part of it, so I guess that lets me off the hook.”
“What about Jessica?” Siobhan asked.
“What about her?”
“I reviewed the notes I recorded when I treated her. I believe she was treated very badly, but she never revealed in what way or by whom.”
“Very badly? She was treated disgustingly, and her mother did nothing to protect her.”
“What about her brothers, didn’t they help?”
“They were mostly part of it.”
Seconds ticked by; she could hear David breathing, saying nothing.
“How hard are the police looking for me?” he finally said.
“Hard. You know they are. It’s been in the news. They aren’t saying directly why, just asking if anyone has any information on your whereabouts.”
“Have you spoken to Jess? Maybe you should reach out to her.”
“I haven’t spoken to her since she was a client. When I look at her notes and think about what’s happened, it’s disturbing.”
“Siobhan, Jess will be okay, she’s a strong person. She’s made a real success of herself given the life her parents gave her.”
“Oh, so you have kept in touch?”
David hesitated. “Not really. Anyway, I’m off.”
David ended the call and Siobhan stared at her phone, hoping that it might provide an answer. Eventually, she called a former tutor and now friend, Mary Stevenson.
“Hi, Mary, it’s Siobhan. Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Mary replied.
“I have a dilemma. Well, a predicament. I just need to talk with you about a client confidentiality question.”
“Go on.”
“I can’t seem to decide the right path. It involves clients who I worked with a long time ago. The police believe either or both may have committed a series of crimes, and what I know may hold some clues.”
“Do you believe they had motive or are capable of it? Motivation is one thing, doing it is another thing altogether.”
“Let me rephrase. How do you deal with a client who you think had the motive, capacity, and desire to commit a crime.”
“What do you mean, deal with?”
“Say if the police were pressing me about a former client.”
“If you believe a crime is about to be committed then you can raise the alarm. But as to raising an alarm after the event, I’m sure you can’t.”
“I know, I know, but I need to vent to someone.”
“I take it this isn’t hypothetical.”
“No, but let’s just stay in the hypothetical. My issue isn’t, should I say something, my issue is how do I process the nagging feeling that a client may have done something significant, and I may be sitting on critical information.”
“You need to package it away mentally. You can’t let it impact your interaction with the client.”
“I don’t see them anymore; this was years ago.”
“But the crime is current?”
“Yes, and the police are asking me about it.”
“This wouldn’t be something to do with that Bendigo family, would it?”
Siobhan didn’t answer.
“You must let the police do their thing,” Mary continued. “You can’t be involved until you’re subpoenaed. Then you can think about your next step.”
“It gets worse. My ex is one of the cops and he looked at my files.”
“How the hell ...”
“That’s why he’s my ex, but he knows what’s in the files.”
“He can’t use any of that, it’s privileged, but I guess he can’t ‘unsee’ it. In a way, this helps your situation. The police now know what’s in the file but can’t use it other than to know where to focus. So you don’t have to worry about whether you should share that.”
Siobhan ended the call, closed both files and asked her receptionist to send in her next client.
Barra de la Cruz, Mexico 12th March 2019
David watched the crowd jostling for the best spots. He was just one person in a crowd of hundreds stretched along the shoreline. The flyer, thrust in his hand the day before, claimed it was ‘One of the greatest surfing competitions in the world’. He wasn’t sure if that was anything approaching the truth, but it did cause him to wonder if Amber might be there.
The Spanish announcer was announcing participants when, he heard, “Amber Jackson, de Australia.” He jogged to where the crowd gathered around the participant's assembly area and pushed and shoved his way to the front, stopping suddenly when he caught a glimpse.
She looked as beautiful as ever.
She held her board against her hip and chatted excitedly with other competitors, then she disappeared into the competition zone.
He waited, hoping for a chance to get to talk with her. The competition dragged on for hours and he paced impatiently waiting for the end. The crowd thinned and he walked up behind her as she kneeled next to her board.
“You’re looking down, not up.”
Amber spun around, her mouth open, her eyes sparkling. She jumped up and leapt at him, legs around his waist, and kissed him on the mouth. Then she slid to the sand, still hugging him tightly.
“David! I can’t believe it’s you. How long have you been here?”
“I’ve been living up the road for a couple of months. Still falling off more often than not, but I’m getting there.”
“Who’s this, a secret lover?” An accented voice said from behind David.
He turned and looked down at a wiry, long-haired man, not much taller than Amber.
Amber, still holding David’s hand said, “Andre, this is David from Australia. I’ve told you about him.”
Andre held out his hand to David and slipped his other arm possessively around Amber’s waist. David let go of Amber’s hand and took a step back. The message was clear enough.
Amber’s eyes wrinkled at the corners.
There was a short silence before Andre said, “You want to join us tonight? We’re going to celebrate Amber not getting into round three.”
