Best of Friends

BEST OF FRIENDS

PETER A STANKOVIC

ONE -Saturday

I knew it was murder as soon as I saw the knife sticking out of his neck. I’m a homicide detective and I’ve seen many grisly things, but it never gets easy to take. The amount of blood all over the floor of the hotel cabin is something else. Seems like the entire floor is engulfed in this red liquid. Using my gloves, I check the body for a wallet or phone. Nothing. Then I tiptoe around the mess and search the drawers on the bedside table. I ruffle through papers and twenty cent and ten cent coins and find the wallet with a few notes but there is no phone. It doesn’t appear to be robbery. I place the wallet into an evidence bag. It’s apparent that the guy was in here by himself as I can’t see any signs of women’s clothing or cosmetics.

Two uniformed officers, from the local Katoomba station, arrived first, I’d been told, and they contacted the Forensic Services, members of whom are gathered about doing their jobs. I nod hello to Samuel Ho, a guy with whom I’d been to other crime scenes. He nods back, like me, not given to wild expressions of acknowledgement.

I check my iPhone watch which records steps, heart rate and other things. It also shows the time which, at the moment, reveals a digital time of 7:18 a.m. Bloody early. I haven’t even had time for my coffee. I was contacted by somebody at five o’clock in my apartment in Collaroy. I can’t even remember who the hell called. Why me? Surely there was a detective living closer to the Blue Mountains. Still, I got dressed and drove to Katoomba in good time, the traffic being light at this time of day on a Saturday.

“Time of death?’ I ask.

‘We’ll know for sure in due course, but I’d guess between two o’clock and three o’clock this morning,’ says Ho.

‘Who found him and what time was that?’

‘A couple of guests. The cabin, as you can see, is outside the swimming pool. The man and his girlfriend were wandering around and saw the light on. They said they went to explore and found the door ajar. When they pushed it open, they saw the man and the blood.’

‘Time?’

‘Around three, I think.’

‘Do we have their names?’

‘See the uniforms. They took notes.’

‘Thanks mate,’ I say, trudging outside. The swimming pool is only a few metres away. I walk up to where the uniformed officers are standing at the far end of the pool. Before I can speak with them, a woman hurries along at an almost jogging pace and asks for Sergeant Hank Rockwell.

‘That’s me,’ I say, ‘And you are?’

She shoves a warrant card in front of my eyes and says, ‘DC Amanda Walsh, I’m your new partner.’

Totally thrown by the presence of the woman, dressed in elegant navy-blue trousers and a blue blouse, and this information, I stand rigid, waiting for more.

‘Sorry but I was only advised this morning. I’m from the Penrith station and somebody thought I’d be closer to Katoomba than other detectives.’

‘Pity they didn’t use that logic for me,’ I say, amused by this chain of events. ‘Where’s Andrew, my usual partner?’

‘I’m sorry sir. I don’t know.’ Amanda stares at me as though she’s awaiting an instruction.

‘Never mind,’ I say. ‘Come with me and don’t talk until I ask you to.’ I lead her to the two uniforms. ‘Hi, I’m DS Rockwell. I understand you met with the people who found the body.’

‘That’s right,’ says the taller of the two men. ‘Here, I’ve written the details down.’

I peer at the note and record the information in the notes app on my phone. Then turning to Amanda, I say, ‘Want to see the body?’

’What? I ‘m fine sir.’

DC Walsh doesn’t want to see the blood and guts, I glean from her response and body language. But she’s in Homicide now and needs to be introduced to the gory bits as well as the fun bits of detective work. Not that there are fun bits in this work.

‘Just pop inside and you’ll see we’re dealing with a murder. You don’t faint, do you?’

‘No sir.’ She trots off and disappears into the cabin. While she is coming to grips with the sight of the victim, I stand near the pool, gazing at the water and wondering how often the hotel cleans it. I wouldn’t dive into that germ-infested cesspool if you paid me.

Amanda comes out a moment later, hand over mouth, as though she is protecting herself from vomiting. She doesn’t speak, simply looks at me.

‘Okay, follow me. You can talk whenever you want now,’ I say, trying to assess what she is made of.

I knock on a door on a room on the first floor of the hotel, after having shown my warrant card to reception and asking for Ray Saunders. When nothing happens, I pound my fists on the door and shout ‘Police, open up.’

The door opens a moment later, and I see a stout fair-haired man with eyes half closed and hair bunched up over his head. Reminds me of a guy I knew with heaps of hair swept up by a gale force wind. ‘Yeah?’ The man asks.

‘You’re Mr Saunders?’

He nods.

‘I’m DS Rockwell and this is DC Walsh. May we come in?’

‘Do you know what time it is?’ says Saunders.

I smile. ‘Well aware, sir.’

He lets us in and we see a young woman still in bed. ‘What’s happening?’ she asks.

‘Don’t be alarmed,’ I say. ‘We’re here to ask about the body you chanced upon.’

‘Oh yeah,’ says Saunders, ‘Julie suggested calling the cops.’

‘Good decision,’ I say. Saunders, Amanda and I stand at the foot of the bed, peering at Julie. She has brown mousey hair and sports freckles on her face. ‘Can you tell us exactly how you stumbled on the body?’

Saunders sits on the bed next to his companion. He takes her hand in his. ‘Julie and I went for a walk and we noticed a cabin opposite the pool with the light on. We went to see whether the occupants were going to go for a swim which we wanted to do. I knocked but noticed the door was not closed completely. So, when I pushed the door a little more, it opened up fully. At first I didn’t know whether to walk in or not. I called out but there was no response so I did walk in. That’s when we saw the dead guy, didn’t we hon?’

Julie looks at Saunders then at us. ‘Yeah, like we went to knock again like, then we found the door was open like.’

‘Why did you go out so early in the morning?’ Amanda asks.

I glance at Amanda. A good question, one I was going to raise but I’m pleased she’s asked it. I’m still befuddled by the senior brass’s decision to have her become my partner for this assignment. Even in her uniform-like clothing, she still looks prettier than either Andrew Banks or his mousey partner or most police colleagues. That’s for sure, I think, returning my eyes to the witnesses. I need to keep my mind on the job, I realise, and not be distracted by the new detective’s appearance or mannerisms.

‘We thought it would be fun. It was just after three and we’d been dancing so we didn’t think it was too late. Right hon?’ Saunders lets go of Julie’s hand.

‘Yeah, like it would be less crowded at that time we figured,’ agrees Julie.

‘Why did you need to have somebody join you?’ I look at Saunders as Julie seems likely to agree with her male companion.

‘Just thought it would be a hoot. We were going to skinny dip, so I wanted to make sure that was okay with the other couple should they appear. At the time, we didn’t know the cabin was only the guy’s digs.’

‘Did you see anyone else around at that time?’ I ask, amused by the man’s messy hair.

‘No, no one.’

‘Thank you for your time, Mr and Mrs Saunders,’ I say.

‘We’re not married,’ says Julie, ‘I’m Julie Thornton.’

‘Okay, have fun,’ I say. I wanted to know as much as I could about the couple in case we needed to come back with further questions. My motto is to never assume anything.

As I walk back down the steps, I invite Amanda to join me for a coffee. Being a popular resort hotel, I expect them to serve decent coffee. We find the lounge in the Hydro Majestic and order. I also want a chance to talk to Amanda and suss out what she is like.

‘Did you believe the couple?’ I ask.

‘I think they were honest. The only thing I couldn’t figure was the delay in getting the call. They were outside the pool at roughly three to three-thirty, found the body a little later and I got a call at six.’

‘Probably took time for the system to alert the right areas. The Katoomba cops did arrive earlier than anyone.’ So I was told when I arrived.

Coffees arrive. I’m saved. Without my morning hit, I can get testy.

‘Would you like something else?’ asks the waitress.

‘Perhaps in a moment,’ I say. I watch as the mature brunette wanders off. Breakfast would be nice but I’m not ready for it yet. Turning back to Amanda, I say, ‘We’ll hope to get something from Forensics, fingerprints on the knife would be great but I’m not expecting such luck. In the meantime, we’ll have to find out all we can about the victim. Are you okay with that?’

‘You’re the boss,’ says Amanda.

Music to my ears. I don’t cope well with argumentative types. We have coffee and Amanda orders breakfast. As I consume my coffee, I suggest a plan.

At the check-in desk, I ask whether Brent Morton, the name on the victim’s driving licence, checked in by himself or with somebody else.

The receptionist says she can’t disclose that information because of privacy concerns which the hotel takes very seriously.

I present my warrant card as this receptionist is different from the one I quizzed previously, the one who gave me the number of the Saunders room. ‘You should know this is a murder investigation and the bloke I’m referring to isn’t going to worry about privacy. He’s dead. He’s not going to worry about anything else, for that matter.’

‘Oh, right. Let me see.’ She checks something. She’s tall, slim and dumb, as far as I can tell. I notice Amanda looking strangely at me. Probably doesn’t approve of my operational style which could be more polite, less confrontational, but I don’t care. I’ve never been into being popular. Even at school, I was sarcastic and at times, abrasive. This meant I had less friends than the popular girls and boys, but my friends lasted. To this day, I still have two good solid friends from high school, ones whom I can count on through thick and thin.

But I don’t have female friends or wives or partners. Always pissed them off. So, I wonder how long it will be before Amanda will ask to be transferred away from me. A day, a week; I’ll see. I like women but often I put my foot in it when I’m dating a woman or during the relationship. At least Andrew, my usual detective partner, knows I’m a son of a bitch, and he accepts me for who I am.

The receptionist, who looks too young to be working at anything except being an assistant to an assistant, looks up. ‘He came with a lady,’ she says.

‘Name and room number,’ I say, wondering how slow can she be.

She looks down again, then back to me. ‘Her name is Candice Berry and she has a cabin next to his, I mean next to the man who died. He agreed to pay both bills, so I don’t know why they booked separate rooms.’

‘Thanks, Sarah,’ I say looking at her nametag. ‘Much appreciated.’

I update Amanda with the information as she was waiting a few metres back from the desk. We walk outside and wander to the door next to Brent Morton’s. I see the Forensic team is packing up. I walk up to Ho. ‘Sam, when can you give me your findings?’

‘I’ll push it through mate. You owe me a few beers.’

‘No problem. Thanks. See you,’ I say patting him on the back.

Brent Morton’s cabin has been sealed with police tape to preserve it as a crime scene. The uniforms ask whether they’re still needed. I tell them they can go once the body has been removed and sent to the mortuary.

I return to Amanda’s side. She is standing outside Ms Berry’s room, looking at something on her phone. I wink at her then knock on the door.