Hindsight (9781921997211) by Melanie Casey Read Free Book Online Page A

room.
    Next they walked through to the kitchen and surveyed the immaculately clean benchtops and neatly arranged contents of the cupboards and drawers. The bathroom told the same story. A limited selection of cosmetics and toiletries were carefully stacked in the drawers and vanity cupboard. Lastly they turned to the bedroom.
    A décor of pale blue and white greeted them. The bed was made, the dressing table neat and tidy. A novel and a radio alarm clock sat on the bedside table next to a reading lamp. They did a quick check of the drawers in the dressing and bedside tables. A few bills, an address book and a diary were the only items of interest.
    â€˜Shit, I’ve never met a woman with so little crap,’ Phil said, snapping off her gloves.
    â€˜Yep, we haven’t found a single photo or photo album either. It’s like she’s just been camping out here.’
    Ed’s phone interrupted their conversation. He took the call and then turned back to Phil.
    â€˜That was the Chief. She wants us back right now. Preliminary forensics are back and if I’m any judge something else has come up too — she sounded like someone put salt in her sugar bowl.’
    Phil groaned. ‘Oh great, that’s just what we need, a round with the fire-breathing dragon.’
    They were back at the station within half an hour. They’d taken less than ten steps down the corridor before Senior Constable Samuels popped his head out of an office and called out to them.
    â€˜Sorenson’s waiting for you in her office. She’s got a couple of trained monkeys with her too.’
    Samuels was the office busybody. He made everyone else’s business his own; handy when you needed to know something but a pain in the arse when it was your life he was sticking his nose into.
    â€˜Thanks for the warning, buddy,’ Ed called out as they made their way to the Chief’s office. He glanced at Phil. He could tell she was thinking the same thing as him: ‘trained monkeys’ was slang for the Crime Service Detectives from Adelaide and that meant that they were about to lose control of the case.
    They knocked on the door and received a curt ‘Enter’. Walking in they saw DCI Sorenson and two detectives. They both knew the older of the two; they’d worked with him before. The younger man was unfamiliar.
    DCI Sorenson was a red-head in her late forties. She was tall and lean and quite attractive when she stopped frowning, which wasn’t very often. Today she looked weary, tiredness carved into the flesh around her eyes and mouth.
    â€˜Detectives Dyson and Steiner, thank you for joining us. Take a seat. I believe you know Detective Byrnes. This is Detective Rawlinson. They will be helping us with our investigation into the Hodgson murder.’
    â€˜Excuse me, Chief, but is Crime Service involvement necessary at this stage? Nothing we’ve come across has indicated that this is anything but a routine murder investigation.’ Phil stared at the two detectives as she said it, the contempt in her voice coming across loud and clear.
    About five years ago they were working on a double homicide with the Noarlunga police and Phil fell into the trap of taking it very personally. One of the victims was an eight-year-old girl, the other a ten-year-old boy. Their murder was brutal. The children were abducted, raped and tortured before they were left to die in an abandoned warehouse.
    Phil and Ed worked day and night to try to break the case. The Crime Service detectives working with them believed the murders were part of a series of killings that had taken place throughout the country. They arrested and charged a man from Darwin while a suspect Ed and Phil had identified walked free. Two years later he was convicted of killing a five-year-old girl. Phil had never got over it.
    â€˜Detective Steiner, you know as well as I do that with no obvious suspect this becomes a Tier 2 murder, but