Crackenback Page 3

  ‘Nanette Roxby,’ said Brown, pushing his black-framed glasses higher on his nose.

  ‘Thank you. Nanette Roxby saw Burrows arguing with another man who’d been into the kitchen a few times. Called himself Ben. The argument was serious enough for Nanette to give them both a warning.’

  Ryder paused to look at the detectives gathered around the table. Sterling was leaning forward, her hands clasped and resting on the table, her full attention on Ryder. Flowers was lounging in his chair but listening intently. Benson and O’Day were staring at different spots on the tabletop, while Brown sat with his arms raised, his fingers locked behind his head. Not too bad for a task force who’d heard these facts many times over.

  Ryder took a breath. ‘Altercations in soup kitchens aren’t unusual, but when we showed Nanette Roxby the CCTV footage from the area the night Dominic Burrows was murdered, she identified one of the men close to the crime scene as Ben from the soup kitchen.’

  ‘How did you find out this “Ben” was Gavin Hutton?’ asked Sterling.

  ‘Two people came forward,’ put in O’Day. ‘A man who’d served with him in the army, and a woman who’d fostered him for eighteen months during his teenage years. Details are in the file.’

  ‘Does Hutton have a record?’ Sterling asked.

  ‘Only a few appearances in the Children’s Court,’ said O’Day.

  ‘Two different blood types were found at the crime scene,’ Ryder said. ‘Burrows’ and one other unidentified blood type which we strongly suspect is Hutton’s. Both have been added to the blood type database, but we haven’t had a match so far.’

  ‘Could Hutton have a drug problem, too, and he killed Burrows for his next hit?’ asked Sterling.

  ‘The second blood sample, if it is Hutton’s, showed no trace of drugs,’ said Benson. ‘Only Burrows’ did.’

  Sterling nodded and Ryder went on: ‘Hutton vanished after the Burrows murder. Then, in March 2019, a gym proprietor, Fergus Suter, was murdered in Straker Park in Goulburn. Beaten to death.’ The image Ryder put on the whiteboard could have graced the cover of a men’s health magazine. Clear-eyed and smiling into the camera, Fergus Suter stood knee deep in the surf, his blond hair lifted by a gentle breeze, his casually folded arms showcasing well-defined muscles. ‘Suter closed the gym at nine pm, called in to the Snake Pit Hotel for a beer before heading home—but never made it.’

  ‘Both murdered in parks,’ Sterling said thoughtfully.

  Ryder nodded. ‘The CCTV footage outside the hotel captured a man following Suter. Cameras further down the street near a convenience store showed the victim and the perpetrator only moments apart. They were both heading in the direction of the park. Fergus Suter’s body was found early the next morning by a group of cyclists. The assault was vicious, his injuries similar to those of Dominic Burrows. Unfortunately, only the victim’s blood was found at the scene this time, but facial matching confirmed the man caught on the CCTV cameras was Gavin Hutton. From our enquiries, we learned that Hutton, again using the name Ben, booked several personal training sessions with Suter prior to the gym owner’s death.

  Flowers sat straighter in his chair. ‘Even if we apprehend Hutton, we can’t pin Suter’s murder on him without supporting forensic evidence.’

  ‘If we apprehend him?’ said Benson, his tone unusually scathing. ‘When we apprehend him.’

  Flowers shrugged. ‘Just saying. The CCTV footage puts him in the area, that’s all.’

  ‘Did anyone else hold a grudge against Suter?’ asked Sterling.

  ‘No debt, no grudges, no jilted lover,’ said Ryder. ‘His boyfriend, William Guthrie, lives in Canberra through the week, so they saw each other at weekends.’

  Sterling frowned. ‘A gay hate crime or jealous ex-lover?’

  ‘I’m working on that line of investigation,’ said Brown.

  ‘William Guthrie has a rock-solid alibi,’ said Ryder. ‘He was on an assignment for the Department of Defence in Canberra when Suter was murdered. By all accounts, Suter was a well-liked member of the community with no enemies.’ Ryder shook his head. ‘Both these murders were brutal, their faces beaten beyond recognition.’

  ‘Who’s Dominic Burrows’ next of kin?’ asked Sterling.

  O’Day frowned. ‘We’ve interviewed his uncle Michael Joseph a few times.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Ryder. ‘Burrows’ parents live in Queensland. They were estranged from their son. His closest family contact is his mother’s younger brother, who lives in Sydney. Michael Joseph works as a consultant and used to help his nephew out from time to time. We never found any leads to follow up—’

  ‘Sarge?’ Flowers interrupted. He had his phone to his ear and was scribbling in his notepad. ‘Two calls just came in on the hotline.’

  ‘Who from?’ asked Ryder.

  ‘A Jervis Bay resident was coming out of the water after an early morning swim when he saw a man fitting Hutton’s description rolling up a sleeping bag as though he’d spent the night on the beach. Local police haven’t had any luck locating him yet.’

  ‘And the other one?’

  ‘One of Hutton’s old teachers at Martinsfield High School. He recognised his name, not his picture. Apparently, he was overseas on long service leave when we visited the school. He only learned about Hutton when he got back.’

  ‘Okay. Well, this is good news; it’s more than we’ve had in weeks.’ Ryder spoke to Flowers: ‘You and Sterling come with me. Everyone else, keep going with what you were working on. Thank you.’

  As the task force members began to disperse, Ryder took the photographs down from the whiteboard before following them out of the room.

  ‘Flowers, head down to Jervis Bay,’ he said when they were back in the general office. ‘Find out if this is a credible sighting. Someone besides the swimmer could have laid eyes on this bloke. Hopefully, by the time you get there the local police might have picked him up.’

  ‘Yes, Sarge.’ Flowers began to gather his personal items, looking excited to be unchained from his desk.

  ‘Speak to the locals, especially fast-food outlets, service stations and caravan parks where he could have used the facilities.’

  ‘Sarge, you don’t need to keep telling me—’

  ‘All right, on your way then. It’s already gone nine o’clock.’ Ryder turned to the new recruit. ‘Sterling, you can come with me. There’s no better way to get up to speed than on the job. We’ll talk to this school teacher, and while we’re in the area we’ll catch up with Hutton’s former partner, too.’

  ‘That’s Kimberley Dickson, right?’

  ‘Right.’ Ryder smiled. He had a feeling Nerida Sterling was going to fit in just fine.

  Three

  A bitter wind brought the first snow flurries to the mountains mid-morning, gusting through Thredbo and turning the landscape white. On the far edge of the village the thick gums surrounding the Golden Wattle Lodge bent in unison, while a low-hanging branch scraped ominously against a windowpane.

  Inside the lodge, relief flooded through Eva’s body. He’s not here for Poppy. Keeping as far away from Jack Walker as possible in the confined bathroom, she pressed her palms against the cold white tiles and watched his every move. If he wasn’t here for Poppy, he had to want something from her.

  ‘Gavin Hutton,’ Jack said as he filled the basin with water. ‘Do you recognise that name?’

  She nodded.

  He unzipped his jacket, then lifted his stained sweater. Blood seeped from a five-centimetre gash close to his navel. ‘He did this. Slashed me with a knife.’

  Eva stared at the wound and then swallowed hard to steady herself. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘Between Leatherbarrel Creek and Tom Groggin campground.’

  Eva pictured the well-known camping areas, roughly half an hour’s drive from Thredbo. On foot, it would be a three-to-five hour hike, depending on fitness levels and the weather.

  ‘Gavin Hutton is wanted by the police,’ she said, n
ever imagining that news of a killer in the Kosciusko National Park could come as such a relief, but for some inexplicable reason Gavin Hutton was behind Jack bursting into her lodge that day. Compared to what she’d been thinking only moments earlier … Eva relaxed, moved away from the wall a touch. ‘What were you doing out there?’

  He flicked off the tap, braced a hand either side of the basin and then plunged his face into the water. Eva watched, memories flooding back. She’d seen him do the same thing when he’d been here before, though Jack Walker had looked a lot different back then.

  He straightened suddenly. Eyes closed, his hair plastered to the sides of his head, he ran a washer over his face then raked his fringe back. Blue eyes met hers in the mirror. ‘What was I doing? I was hunting him.’

  Eva stayed quiet, watching as he grabbed a hand towel and dried his face and neck. Then he took a cotton ball and antiseptic from the first-aid kit he’d found in the vanity and applied it to the wound. He gave a violent jerk, his sharp intake of breath hissing through his teeth.

  ‘You have to report it to the police,’ she said. ‘You have to tell them where Hutton was when he attacked you so they can catch him.’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything,’ Jack said firmly, fixing her with a steady gaze despite his clear discomfort.

  ‘But it’s the right thing to do,’ she argued. ‘My sister’s boyfriend is the lead detective on that case. You should let them handle it.’

  He was silent for so long Eva wondered if he’d heard her. He continued to apply the antiseptic, the only sign of pain the sudden pallor of his skin.

  ‘Did the army send you?’ she asked. It made sense. Jack had told her he was a former commando with the Royal Australian Signals Corp when he booked out the lodge four years ago, using it as a base to train a group of former soldiers in Thredbo’s back country, readying them for risky security work overseas.

  ‘The army has nothing to do with it, and the police don’t have a clue.’

  ‘And you do?’ Eva shot back, frustration roaring to the surface.

  His head snapped up. ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Then explain how you got into a fight with a serial killer. For the love of God, the average person doesn’t do this kind of thing.’

  ‘Hutton’s no serial killer. Lust drives serial killers. Hutton wants revenge—trust me.’

  Trust! Eva almost laughed in spite of everything happening around her. The last time a man had told her to trust him, that he would sort things out, she’d ended up locking herself in her cabin every night. ‘You said Hutton wants revenge. Revenge for what?’

  Jack released the plug, the water draining noisily into the pipe. Then the bathroom turned quiet; the silence broken by the distant sound of a tinny children’s song.

  ‘Poppy!’ Eva cried, wrenching the door open and going out into the lobby as her daughter came in from the lounge room, her Rock-a-Bye Bear clutched in her arms. The little girl’s cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes bleary with sleep.

  Eva scooped Poppy up, holding her small, warm body close as her mind ricocheted in ten different directions. She’d always hoped that one day Poppy would meet her father, but never had she imagined it happening like this.

  ‘Hello,’ Poppy said, swivelling around in Eva’s arms to look at Jack. ‘Did you fall off your bike?’

  He moved into the doorway and stared at the little girl. ‘Nope,’ he said, focusing intently on his daughter. ‘I was mountain climbing … out there.’

  ‘I fell off my bike once and got stitches.’ Poppy began to struggle in Eva’s arms, wanting to get down. ‘Where are all the other guests?’ the little girl demanded.

  Eva set her daughter down reluctantly, but kept a firm hold of the child’s hand.

  ‘There’s only me,’ Jack said, his eyes softening a little. ‘I came early because I hurt myself.’

  Poppy stuck a finger in her mouth and pushed out a cheek. ‘You mustn’t be very good at climbing.’

  ‘Hmm … I need practice.’

  ‘Take your finger out of your mouth, Poppy,’ Eva said, tugging on her daughter’s hand.

  ‘Mummy.’ Eva felt a drag on her shirt tail. Poppy cupped a hand over her mouth and beckoned for her mother to come closer. Keeping Jack Walker firmly in her sights, Eva leaned down to hear what Poppy had to say.

  ‘He’s dirty. Where’s his clean clothes?’

  Eva took her first full breath in what felt like forever. Thankfully, the mix of soil and blood just looked like dirt to Poppy. She straightened slowly, a plan taking shape in her mind. If she could get Poppy downstairs, they could be out in the yard in a matter of seconds. With Jack nursing an injury, they had a reasonable chance of making it through the trees to the Willy Wagtail.

  ‘I’ll get you some clothes from the laundry,’ she said to Jack. ‘There’s a ton of comfortable stuff in the cupboard down there. It’s amazing what people leave behind.’

  Tightening her grip on Poppy’s hand, Eva spun around and headed for the stairs. Heart pounding, she half-carried half-dragged Poppy along with her. She hadn’t gone more than ten steps when she sensed movement behind her, a rustle of clothing, a soft expletive. Ignoring Poppy’s protests, Eva swung the child onto her hip. She reached for the bannister, her fingertips almost touching the polished wood when Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her to a sudden stop.

  ‘I tell you what. Leave Poppy here with me and you go down to the laundry and get the clothes.’ Even in the shadows Eva could make out the challenge in his eyes. ‘We’ll wait up here. Poppy can tell me all about how she came to fall off her bike.’

  The few minutes spent in the laundry were the longest of Eva’s life, even more so than the time confined to her tiny cabin below the waterline during that final, fateful voyage on the yacht. Back then, she had been responsible for just herself. Now, there was a life more important than her own. Fingers trembling, she rifled through the cupboard and found track pants and a hoodie that looked about the right size. Straining her ears for sounds from upstairs, Eva cast her eyes around the small room, looking for a weapon, struggling to hear over the blood surging in her temples. Jack had to be having some kind of meltdown to be talking about Gavin Hutton seeking revenge. Revenge for what? If a killer was in the national park, the thing to do was call the police and get the hell out of Thredbo, not cut off all connectivity to the lodge.

  I’m not here for the kid.

  How could she be sure of that? How could she be sure he was safe to be around?

  Leave Poppy here with me.

  Eva pivoted, scanning the contents of the airless room, devoid of natural light. Detergent. Ironing board and iron. The washing she’d left half-folded in the basket when she’d gone to open the door.

  Was he taking Poppy right now? Leaving in her car? Eva tried pushing the unbearable thought aside, but her mind wouldn’t let it go. With the walls closing in on her, she scanned the room again, her gaze falling on the metal doorstop she’d chosen because of its decorative flower shape. Scooping it up, she ran her thumb across the sharper edge of the wedge and then buried it under the bundled-up clothes.

  Leaving the light on, she began to climb the stairs, her fingers curled around the metal flower in her hand.

  ‘Kill the light,’ he said gruffly.

  Eva stopped and looked up, her legs going weak with relief. Two shadowy figures, one tall, one tiny, waited at the top of the stairs.

  ‘It’s on a timer,’ she lied, continuing her climb, her body vibrating with tension.

  Three steps to the top now. Two. One. For God’s sake, breathe.

  ‘Mummmeeee,’ Poppy whined, her bottom lip quivering, eyes shifting between Eva and Jack. ‘I wanna drink.’

  Schooling her face into a calm mask, Eva gripped the doorstop under the clothes. ‘Did you put my jewellery back where it belongs?’ Anything to get Poppy away from the menacing presence of Jack Walker.

  ‘I put them on the bed,’ Poppy stammered, her little body taut with anxiety.

/>   Steeling herself against what she was about to do, Eva said sternly, ‘Do as I ask please, Poppy, then I’ll get you a drink.’

  For a moment, she feared Poppy was so shocked by her tone that she wasn’t going to move. But then the little girl reluctantly obeyed, the Rock-a-Bye Bear still clutched in her arms.

  Eva turned slowly to face Jack Walker.

  He held out a hand, palm upwards.

  Eva stared at it, her heart in her throat.

  ‘You can give me what you’re hiding now,’ he said quietly.

  When she didn’t move, he thrust a hand beneath the clothes and pulled the metal doorstop from her grasp. Eva gasped and dropped the clothes.

  ‘You don’t want to do that,’ he said, weighing the heavy item in his hand.

  Pent-up fury drove strength into her body, and she advanced on him. ‘What do you expect me to do?’ she cried, striking out and bashing her fists against his chest. ‘You have no right!’ Eva shoved him hard, swinging upwards and striking the underside of his chin with her knuckles. Pain radiated through her hand, but she continued to claw at him, grabbing handfuls of his sweater. ‘No right!’

  ‘Ah!’ He brought his free arm up to his middle, his face twisting in pain.

  Eva stepped back, gulping in great breaths of air. Tears welled but she blinked them away. ‘Why should I believe you?’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘You come in here … close everything down … and tell me it’s about Gavin Hutton wanting revenge.’

  ‘It is.’ He bent over slowly and picked the clothes up from the floor.

  ‘Why disconnect everything?’ she asked, puffing from the adrenaline.

  ‘Because I don’t trust you not to call the police,’ Jack replied, turning to head slowly back towards the bathroom. ‘They’ll bring in the dogs and choppers, and Hutton will disappear like all the other times the police thought they had him.’