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“Oh yeah! The sisterhood keeping my wife’s infidelity a secret … Great. I’m touched!”
“Right,” I said evenly, thinking about all the times men had closed ranks and kept their buddies’ secrets to themselves. “Well, you obviously would like the killer brought to justice … you’ve doubled the reward.”
“I doubled it again earlier this afternoon.”
“Is there anything you can think of that might help us … and the police?”
“Look, Mr. Gisto, I’ve told the police everything I know. I saw Jennifer leave the house. I assumed she was doing what she said she was going to do and meet her mates in Melbourne. I didn’t hear a thing until Helene called. That was three weeks ago. Maybe you should speak to the guy Jennifer was seeing.”
“We’ve only just tracked him down. My colleague is with him as we speak.”
“Oh, do wish the man well, won’t you …”
Chapter 74
JUSTINE STUDIED THE man sitting in front of her and wondered how any woman could find him attractive. Nick Grant was Jennifer Granger’s lover. He was tall, thin, in a vest and shorts, his left arm a full-sleeve tattoo. He’d agreed to meet on neutral ground – a pub on Napoleon Street, Bondi.
“Look,” he said, fixing Justine with a confident gaze. “Me and Jen … it was a casual thing, right? She was getting quotes for an extension on her house in Bellevue Hill. Took a shine to me right off.” He gulped his beer, gave Justine a faintly flirtatious smile. Then his expression turned serious. “I was sorry to hear what happened …”
“She was with you the weekend she was murdered?”
“No! That’s just it. I hadn’t seen her for weeks. As I said, it was casual. I think we only did it three, four times. She’d arrange everything – swanky hotels in the city, call me up with half-an-hour notice. Tell me to put on something clean … that she was in Room 131 at the Four Seasons, or Room 42 at the Hyatt, wearing nothing but high heels.” He grinned stupidly. “Well, what do you do?”
“And the weekend of December 14th/15th? You were in Sydney?”
“No.” Nick Grant shrugged. “I wasn’t.”
“So where were you?”
“In Melbourne.”
“Melbourne?”
“Yeah … you look surprised.”
“No, no go on.”
“Rugby piss-up. Me and the lads. We went to see the Waratahs at the AAMI Park. Fantastic game … and afterwards! Sunday … whoa!… a complete blur. Took Monday off. Went back to work Tuesday. We’re on a big job in Mona Vale.” He nodded toward the Northern Beaches.
“So when did you hear that Jennifer Granger had gone missing?”
“One of her friends called me out of the blue. I didn’t know what the woman was talking about at first. She was another stuck-up bitch … Sorry. I mean she was … Oh fuck! You know what I mean!”
Justine simply stared at the man.
“This woman,” he went on. “Helene? She said Jennifer hadn’t shown up for a girls’ weekend. Why you telling me? I said. Apparently, Jen had mentioned my name and the company I worked for and this Helene tracked me down. Cheeky bitch. I got a bit pissed off with her. Told her she’d better not tell anyone where to find me, especially Jen’s bloody husband.”
“And nothing else happened?”
“No. Not another word ’til this morning.”
“So when was the last time you saw Jennifer Granger?”
Nick Grant took another gulp of beer and pondered the table top. “Well, let me think … Must have been two weeks before the Melbourne weekend. Yeah … early December … at the Sheraton.”
Justine shivered. “What a terrible mess some people create for themselves,” she thought, recalling the gruesome photographs of the woman’s shallow grave.
Chapter 75
