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Leaning against a low wall, I returned my gaze to the screen. So a second victim linked to the financial sector found dead with fake banknotes stuffed inside her body. I wondered if Elspeth knew the first victim, Stacy Friel … or indeed, David Friel? Must have done, I concluded. He was a senior cog at Citigroup. The Friels and the Lampards lived one street apart.
What other links could there be? I started to think laterally. Called Greta.
“Hey,” I said gently.
“Is that Craig? Hi.”
“Look, I’m calling about the latest …”
“Yep,” she said. She was clearly trying to keep herself together.
“The dead woman is Elspeth Lampard.” I heard a sudden intake of breath. Paused for second. “You know her?”
There was a delay. “Um … not that well, Craig. But yeah, I knew her.”
“I’m trying to find links, Greta. Links with …”
“Okay …” Another sharp inhalation. “Er … let me … let me think. Ralph, her husband … he knows David well, David Friel.”
“Through work?”
“Yeah, and socially. They’re practically neighbors. They play tennis together. Stace … she played too. Same club as us … down the road. And … er … the gym. Yeah, Elspeth goes to my gym … a
nd Stacy’s.”
“Okay.”
“You think this is some sex thing, don’t you?”
“No, Greta. I don’t.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I’m just …”
I kept quiet for a few beats. Then: “Can you think of anything? Anything unusual? Anything going on? I don’t mean tossing the keys into the bowl.”
“What do you mean then?”
“Elspeth’s husband is in finance. So is David Friel. They work for different companies, but could the husbands be working together on something?”
“Craig. I have no idea.” She paused for several seconds. “All I know is that Stacy and Elspeth were just nice, normal women … until someone killed them.”
Chapter 39
THEY’D TAKEN EVERYTHING from Geoff Hewes’ pockets – money, cell phone, car keys. Then the man who’d jumped on him had smacked him over the head with something hard and heavy and shoved him into a blacked-out room. When he came to, he could taste blood in his mouth.
Hewes pulled himself up, wincing and cursing, then he felt incredibly sick and vomited copiously, touched his face, it was crusty with blood. His jaw was agonizing.
There was a chink of light from a window high up and he could just hear traffic far off. He recalled Loretto’s last words and knew where he was … in the basement of the bastard’s huge house at Point Piper.
What the hell was Loretto doing? Was he trying to make him cack himself before punching a bullet through his skull? It would be just like him: after all, why just kill someone when you can play with them first?
“Well you’re not going to get me you bastard!” Hewes yelled into the empty blackness. Then he slumped to the floor, head in hands.
Chapter 40
“ALRIGHT GUYS, SO, let’s take it case by case,” I said and surveyed the conference room back at Private. “First, the Ho murder. Darlene has isolated DNA samples but they don’t tally with any records. Ho Meng is convinced the police can’t help and he’s certain the Triads want him to coordinate a smuggling operation.”
