Felicity Young - Take Out

‘Quite. Medical tests showed he’d only been deprived of food and fluid for two days max. But who was it who fed him and why did they stop? Stevie, can’t you see? We have to find out what the hell’s going on here.’ (Image 6.1)

Image 6.1

THURSDAY

CHAPTER SEVEN

Stevie needed time to prepare for the confrontation with Luke Fowler and it wasn’t until the next evening that she’d managed to arm herself with some relevant facts. She decided not to change out of her court clothes, putting her faith in the menacing effect of the dark suit and heels that made her taller than most men.

She was relieved to find him alone in the large open-plan office he shared with several detectives, and gratified to see his blue eyes widen with surprise when she pushed through the swing door unannounced.

‘Good evening, Sergeant Fowler.’ She slapped a single file upon the desk in front of him and sat on the visitors’ chair with her long legs crossed. His suit jacket hung over the back of his chair, his tie pulled loose at the collar of his creased white shirt and the skin around his eyes was dark and pouched. On his desk sat a grubby computer monitor and a keyboard with letters worn to smudges.

He looked at her across a barricade of mugs, each holding a residual smear of coffee. ‘Ms, er...’ He recognised her, she could tell, but was too stunned by her sudden appearance to put a name to her face.

‘Senior Sergeant Hooper, Central,’ Stevie reminded him.

‘Ah yes...’ he made a searching movement with his hand.

‘We met a few days ago outside the Pavel house. You filed a complaint against me, said you’d get me dismissed. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who I am already?’

‘Of course not.’ He regarded her closely. ‘A grim business—on all counts.’

‘Very grim.’

‘So what is it I can do for you?’

Stevie put her hand into her pocket and removed Skye’s paper bag, carefully placing it on his desk. ‘This is a button found by Skye Williams just outside the taped crime scene and given to me. I thought you should have it.’

Fowler peered gingerly into the bag as if it might have a snake in it. His pink face turned violent red. ‘Good God, the vindictive little cow; she’s withheld this from me deliberately and now it’s completely useless—I can’t use this.’ He shoved the paper bag back at her. ‘I’ll have her charged for this.’

Stevie returned the button to her bag and snapped the clasp. ‘Yes, I suppose her actions could be seen as vindictive,’ she said, ‘just as your handling of the Pavel case could be seen as incompetent. You’ve been letting an incident between yourself and Skye Williams from nearly three years ago colour your dealings with her now, and you have ignored vital evidence from her as a result.’

Fowler slapped his hands upon his desk. ‘Jesus Christ, what the hell is it you want?’

‘Not your case, if that’s what you think. I’ve enough on my own plate. I want you to find the Pavels and I want you to show some respect for Skye.’

‘Your friend’s a whore. Are you aware of that, Hooper?’

Stevie expelled a breath: my God, this man had women issues. ‘She was a sex worker, and of course I’m aware of it. I’ve read the file. As far as I’m concerned it makes no difference to our friendship, just as it should have made no difference to you when she reported her rape to you almost three years ago. She was turning tricks to finance herself through uni. It might not be everyone’s idea of gainful employment, but it pays a lot better than flipping burgers.’

‘She’s a junkie.’

‘That’s a fabrication.’

‘She denies it?’

‘Skye hasn’t told me anything.’ Stevie tapped the folder on Fowler’s desk. ‘It’s all in here, including your negligent investigation of her case. Skye has never been a user; she wouldn’t have coped with the nursing curriculum if she had been. Christ, Fowler, no wonder you were transferred to Peppermint Grove. If it was me on the internal affairs panel I’d have dismissed you altogether.’

Clearly shaken, he didn’t answer, got up from his desk and turned his back, suddenly taking great interest in the drops of rain coursing down the window.

Stevie wasn’t enjoying this as much as she thought she would, but now she’d started she had to continue to the bitter end.

‘Skye was brutally assaulted by one of her customers and you refused to take her allegations seriously,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t until a sex worker was murdered months later that some bright spark pulled the file and linked the man to Skye’s assault. True to form, Skye didn’t stay silent. She went to your boss and told him how you’d treated her, which resulted in you being busted down to Peppermint Grove. And what a place.’ Stevie waved her arms around the tatty office with its dented desks and faded green walls. ‘One of the most affluent suburbs in WA, yet its cop shop is struggling to stay afloat. I guess the powers that be don’t think the occasional luxury car theft, home burglary and drug deals between private school kids warrant much of a budget. This place can hardly be a challenge to someone with your record.’

Fowler continued to stand at the window, his only movement the clenching and unclenching of fists at his side. Stevie hadn’t just hit a nerve, she realised—she’d severed a spinal cord.

‘You could have gone far, Fowler, your record was exemplary until then. You’d probably be an inspector in a specialist division if it weren’t for Skye Williams. No wonder you hate her guts.’ Stevie paused. ‘I guess you must have had friends in high places, keeping a lid on it, maybe out of respect for your late grandfather, the Commissioner.’

Stevie’s implication wasn’t lost on Fowler. Pull your finger out or I’ll start spreading it around further. You’ll never work in this town again...

Fowler cleared his throat and slowly turned to face her, the scar on his cheek red and angry against his skin. ‘So, what is it you want me to do?’

‘You can listen to what Skye has to say: for a start, she’s the only one who knows what the old lady is talking about.’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Okay,’ he said, barely above a whisper.

Stevie hesitated; she hadn’t been expecting him to roll over quite so quickly. Her threat to spill the beans on him was no big deal; cops had done far worse and still maintained face with their colleagues.

‘Apparently Mrs Hardegan thinks there’s a lot more behind this than a tragic accident,’ she said, still trying to suss him out. ‘From what Skye can decipher, the old lady thinks it might have something to do with the baby’s adoption. I notice that was withheld from the newspapers, as was the house fire. Is that because you’re taking these as serious leads?’

‘I can’t dismiss either of them.’ He sank back into his desk chair.

‘Then why haven’t you referred this to a specialist crime squad? Are you still trying to redeem yourself, Sergeant Fowler? Do you think you can manage all this on your own?’

‘I didn’t think it necessary to bring in specialists at this stage. We still don’t know for sure if we’re dealing with a homicide or not.’

‘Then I suggest you talk to the old lady, using Skye as interpreter. What she says might help you make your decision.’ Stevie rose to leave. ‘And you can also do me the professional courtesy of keeping me informed about the investigation.’

She was at the door when Fowler’s subdued voice made her turn. ‘Foul play hasn’t been eliminated,’ he said. ‘You were right; there was blood under the couch. We think it’s Delia Pavel’s—at least the DNA matches various other samples taken from the house.’