Dead Certain

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When Carol got up early the next morning, David, in rumpled pajamas, was already in the kitchen. “Mum, can I stay with you and Auntie Sarah for the rest of the week?”

“Darling, I’m on a case, so I may not see that much of you.” Expecting his pout, she smiled when it appeared. “All right, I’ll ask your father. He’s back tonight and Eleanor was going to pick you up tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Can I come on the run with you?”

She rumpled his blond hair. “If you hurry.”

David kept up with her for the first ten minutes, then began to fall behind. She slowed to a walk as they reached the bush path. “Do you run the whole way, Mum?”

“Yes, but I do it every morning, that’s why I can.”

“If I lived with you, I could do it too.”

Warmed by his words, she put an arm around his shoulders. “Aren’t you happy with your father and Eleanor?”

“Yes. But I like being with you.”

“David, I love having you here and you can come as often as you like, you know that.”

He looked up at her. “Why’s Sybil gone away?”

Say something direct, Carol. You owe him that much.

“You know how your Dad and Eleanor love each other-how they do things together, sleep in the same room…”

“Well, they’re married, Mum,” he said, making it clear this was self-evident.

“Sybil and I are like that… it’s just like we’re married.”

“Then why’s she moved out?”

“Because we’re not getting on at the moment. We’ve got some problems we’re trying to work out.”

David looked sideways at her for a long moment. Then he said, “Can we start jogging again?”

That’s enough. It’s a beginning.

“Sure,” said Carol, “but I bet you can’t keep up.”

While David was dressing for school, Carol had breakfast with Aunt Sarah, who frowned at Carol’s toast and black coffee, but managed not to give her usual lecture on health foods. Carol defiantly poured herself a second cup of coffee, ignoring her aunt’s muttered comment. “I said something on the run this morning about Sybil and me. If David asks you any questions, please answer them.”

“He won’t, Carol. David must have picked up something from Justin’s casual remarks or assumptions made about you and Sybil being together… that sort of thing. Now you’ve given David a bit more to think about. He’ll fit it all together, and when he’s ready, he’ll ask you what he wants to know.”

“I may not have the luxury of waiting-Kenneth Raeburn’s leaning on me.”

“What about the calls on your answering machine?”

“I know who made those,” she said with dour satisfaction. “But that’s not necessarily much help.”

Aunt Sarah patted her hand. “If you’re outed, you’re outed,” she said. “And there’s probably nothing you can do about it.”

Carol wanted the relief of losing her temper, breaking something, screaming her rage. Instead she said calmly, “Except to find that Collis Raeburn’s death was an accident. That would take the heat off.”

“At least you’ve got a choice.”

“You know, my dear Aunt, that I haven’t.”

“Tsk,” said Aunt Sarah. “Principles are such a curse.”

Kenneth Raeburn had insisted that they meet outside her office. “I’m staying at the Park Royal. It’d be more convenient if we met in the foyer.”

Carol was early, and had brought Anne with her. Kenneth Raeburn, chest out, standing as tall as possible, was already there. He frowned when he saw the constable. “I’m sorry. What I have to say is confidential. There can be no third party.”

Edgy and impatient, he still spoke in his usual soft half-whisper. Although his well-cut dark suit was appropriate to the hotel’s elegance, his broken nose and insolent stare seemed incongruous. “Well?” he demanded.

Carol directed Anne to wait out of earshot, then sat down with him on a plush lounge. “Why is this confidential? Constable Newsome is assisting the investigation and is quite aware of all developments.”

His gesture dismissed her comment. “I don’t want to waste time. I expect you to find that Collis died by a combination of unfortunate circumstances. It was not suicide, not murder, but an accident.”

Carol was equally terse. “You’re not in a position to dictate the results of my investigation.”

“What would it hurt you to come to this conclusion?” His voice, almost inaudible, shook with tension. “The mere suggestion of anything else will ensure that the inquest is a circus, and will destroy his memory, not to mention what it will do to Nicole.”

“I’m afraid I can’t take any of that into consideration. I’m only concerned with the truth.”

“The truth?” he sneered. “You don’t tell the truth about yourself…”

Carol wanted to hit him. She said in a controlled voice, “This has nothing to do with me personally. I’ve got a job to do, and I’m doing it.”

“It’s a matter of your arrogance, Inspector. You refuse to see his death as a sad, unnecessary accident. You want it to be murder, because that gives you so much more publicity, doesn’t it? You’re in this for your own glory, so don’t pretend to have any high ideals.”

“There’s no point in continuing this conversation.”

Raeburn nodded to himself, as though satisfied with her hostile response. “Don’t leave. You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

“Mr. Raeburn, attempting to influence a police officer is a criminal offense.”

He laughed contemptuously. “Don’t give me that. You must know I’ll deny everything, and frankly, I don’t imagine you’re recording this. You know what I’m going to say, and you’d hardly want your colleagues to hear it.”

“There’s nothing you can say that will change my findings one way or the other.”

“No? I’ve had you investigated by a discreet and very expensive private detective. You live with a Sybil Quade, who was a suspect in one of your cases. Now she’s your lover.” He paused for her reaction. When her expression didn’t change he said contemptuously, “Detective Inspector Carol Ashton, closet lesbian. Is that why you’re persecuting Collis’s memory? Because you think he was queer, and you hate that in him, as you must in yourself?”

Armored by her icy rage, Carol said, “Did you encourage your daughter to leave threatening messages on my answering machine, or was it her own idea?”

“I’m not here to answer questions. I’m here to tell you what it would be very wise for you to do.”

He rose from the lounge as she did, looking up at her with venomous intent. “Let me make you a promise, Inspector. Unless you find that his death was an accident, you’ll face the consequences. You ruin Collis’s reputation-I’ll ruin yours.”

“This better be urgent,” said the Commissioner. “I’ve rescheduled an appointment with the Minister because of you.”

Even though the Commissioner had previously given his full public and personal support to gay and lesbian police officers when a splinter group had attempted to out them, Carol still felt a stinging apprehension as she said evenly, “Kenneth Raeburn is trying to blackmail me into making a report that presents his son’s death as an accident.”

“Blackmail you? How?”

Carol put the miniature tape player on his desk. “I had an idea that’s what he was going to do, so I was wired. Constable Newsome observed our meeting, but wasn’t within earshot.” She pressed the play button and sat down. Raeburn’s voice was soft, but clear. Without comment they listened through to the end.

She didn’t expect his response. “Sybil Quade, eh? The Bellwether murders?”

“Yes.”

Frowning, he rested his chin on his steepled fingers. “You’re not denying what he says?”

She met his gaze directly. “About being a lesbian? No.” She needed to say something more. “But that’s my private life. It has nothing to do with my job.”

“It shouldn’t have anything to do with it, you mean.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Tough it out, Carol.”

“You don’t think I’m compromised? You’re not taking me off the case?”

The Commissioner looked irate. “Because of Kenneth Raeburn? Hell, no.” He gave her a slight smile. “Or because you’re gay? Hell no, again.”

She returned his smile, her respect for him at a new level.

As she turned to go, he said, “Want my advice? Have Bourke threaten to charge Raeburn with trying to pervert the course of justice-that should shut him up for a while. If you’re sure about the daughter, suggest she might be charged too. And close the murder case as fast as you can. It’ll be out of Raeburn’s hands then and he’s not as likely to cause trouble for you, or for himself. Basically what I’m saying, Carol, is if you can make an arrest, make it now.”

She called Bourke and Anne into her office. “Close the door, Mark. I want you and Anne to listen to a tape of my conversation this morning with Kenneth Raeburn. I’ve already played it to the Commissioner.”

Her voice seemed to convey some of the stress she was feeling. Bourke glanced at her soberly, then sat down without his usual jesting comment. Anne, who had seen Carol’s silent white-faced rage after the meeting at the Park Royal, avoided eye contact altogether.

They listened to the tape without comment. The click when she turned off the recorder sounded loud in the silence. Bourke leaned over and put his hand over hers. “Carol…” After a moment he released her. His expression hardened. “We can get Raeburn for that.”

“The Commissioner suggests threatening him with trying to pervert the course of justice.”

“It’ll be a pleasure.”

“I’m sure Nicole Raeburn left the messages on my answering machine-in conversation with me she used phrases that occurred on the tape.”

Bourke was delighted. “I’ll mention charging her, too. That should wipe the smiles off their faces.”

Anne still hadn’t looked up. Carol said, “Mark knows about my personal life, Anne, so this isn’t a surprise for him.”

Carol realized, as Anne finally met her glance, that it was anger, not embarrassment or disdain, reflected on the young constable’s face. “It isn’t fair. That little bastard shouldn’t be able to use it against you.”

Carol could hear the resignation in her own voice as she said, “It had to happen one day.”

“How do we handle it?” said Bourke.

Carol had thought this through. “People in the Service will know, and that means there’s a good chance the fact I’m a lesbian will go further. And, of course, there’s Raeburn and his daughter, the private detective they used…”

“You could deny everything.”

“I could, Anne, but then I’m just reactive, and at a disadvantage. I want to have some sort of control here. The Commissioner knows, and so will my other superiors after this meeting. Aside from that, I’m not making any statements to anyone, but if I’m asked a direct question, I’ll answer it directly.”

“What do you want us to do?”

She sighed. “Mark, what do I say to you? It’s up to you what you say or don’t say.”

Anne said, “What about the media?”

Carol smiled grimly. “I haven’t quite decided. Frankly, I hope I don’t have to, but I’m inclined to think that ‘yes, so what?’ may be the way to go.”

Bourke stood. “I’m off to intimidate Kenneth Raeburn,” he said cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. “And believe me, I’m looking forward to it.”

Carol called the college where Sybil taught part-time. After an interminable delay, she felt her heart jump as she heard Sybil’s familiar voice. “It’s me.”

“Carol? What’s wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong?”

“For you to ring me at work-yes.”

As she told her what had happened, Carol was conscious that Sybil might welcome what she, herself, dreaded. What might represent freedom to Sybil meant loss of control to Carol.

Sybil said, “I’ll come back home.”

“No, don’t,” she said involuntarily.

There was a long pause, then, “You don’t want me there?”

“It’s not that-”

“What is it, then, Carol? Worried that my presence will confirm the gossip? That people will come round to see for themselves?”

“I don’t need this!”

Sybil was immediately calm. “No, you don’t. I’ll stay away, Carol, but we need to talk. Do you agree?”

“Yes, of course.”

Sybil’s voice was husky. “I love you. I don’t want you hurt, and I don’t want to cause you any more problems. Call you tonight, okay?”

Carol shut her eyes, confused by guilt, love and misery. “Okay,” she said.