Begrudgingly tucking away that final thought in a freshly-reinstated compartment of her mind marked "Love Life," Bianca headed down the steps of the DPP building, back onto the general footpath and strode purposefully towards where her car was parked. As she walked, her focus turned more fully to the business at hand. She needed to have a 'chat' with Mr and Mrs Delaney to find out what they knew about the up-until-now mystery man, Francis John Wilkie.
Emerging from the elevator on the third level of the carpark, Bianca dipped her hand into her bag for her car keys. Finding them, she pressed the key fob. Her car, which was only a few metres away, gave a quick flash of its tail-lights to signal that it was now unlocked.
Bianca fastened her seatbelt but rather than bring the engine to life straight away, she, instead, shuffled through her bag once more, her fingers feeling around among the usual paraphernalia in its tardis-like interior for the familiar shape of her phone. Once she had located it, she scrolled through the 'A's in her contacts until she found the necessary number then dialled it. The call was brief.
"Anderson, where are you?"
"At the office, Sarge," SC Anderson replied with a cheeriness that made it quite evident that he, at least, had recovered from the morning's embarrassment of almost burning down an entire mountainside.
"Good. I'll pick you up in the side street in twenty minutes. Be there."
"Where are we going?"
"To talk to Sid Delaney and his wife."
"Why do we need…."
Before he could finish his question, he realised he was talking to dead air.
Bianca's second call was a little less officious.
"Alex, hi. Is the warrant for the security footage from Sid Delaney's house sorted?"
With an assurance that all was in place with the warrant, Bianca had Constable Foster organise for the necessary personnel to meet her and Anderson at Delaney's place in forty-five minutes.
"Alex, can you also look up Sid Delaney's address for me, please?"
For a moment, the only sound at the other end of the phone was the rapid clicking of computer keys until Alex came back with the address.
"It's 26-28 Cranbrook Rd, Rose Bay."
A puzzled frown fixed itself on Bianca's face.
"Are you sure? Isn't that the same address as the one for the stolen SUV that ran our man, Francis Wilkie, off the road?"
Again, there was the clicking of keys.
"I've checked. The SUV was stolen from 26 Cranbrook Lane….Delaney's house is 26 Cranbrook Road."
Bianca listened to more tapping.
"It shows here on the map I've pulled up," Alex continued, "that they run parallel to each other. Cranbrook Lane is one street over from Cranbrook Road."
Bianca put her head in her hand and massaged her temples with her thumb and forefinger. No doubt, it was more than a coincidence. Another piece of the puzzle that, as yet, gave no clue as to where it fitted. She knew from experience that eventually it would all come together. She just needed to be patient. As always, she would keep following the lines of inquiry as they presented until, at some point, her persistence would pay off and they would all merge, pointing her in the right direction but at the moment her level of frustration was high.
"Right. Thanks, Alex. I'll check it out on my way over to Delaney's."
Disconnecting and tossing the phone carelessly onto the passenger seat, Bianca pressed the ignition button, reversed out of the parking bay and nosed the car towards the exit, the tyres squealing on the painted surface as she rounded each corner at speed.
After a dream run of green lights through the city, Bianca arrived at the AFP's Sydney headquarters exactly twenty minutes after she had called SC Anderson and, as instructed, he was waiting on the Nithsdale Street footpath. He was smoking and had his phone to his ear, listening intently. Noticing her approach, he quickly ended the call and took one long, last drag on his cigarette before dropping it on the ground, this time taking the precaution of stubbing it out under his shoe. Once she had pulled up beside him, he exhaled the last of the smoke then opened the passenger-side door and expertly crimped his tall frame into the seat.
"Why are we going to Delaney's?" he asked as he struggled with his seatbelt.
"I have a few questions I need to ask him and his wife," was Bianca's non-committal reply as she indicated and turned left into Goulburn St, re-entering the Sydney traffic once more.
Bianca noticed Anderson fidget with the knot in his tie.
"About what? When did Sid Delaney come onto our radar?" he asked as he tidied his hair using the mirror behind the sun visor. "Sure, he owns the warehouse where Collins was killed but up until the murder, Delaney had probably forgotten he even owned it. His property portfolio is considerable. What could he possibly know about what went on there? Am I missing something?"
Her Senior Constable was very lucky he couldn't read her mind at that moment.
"Did you read the files on the Bradshaw case that I left for you?" she asked although she had already guessed the answer.
"Most of them," he replied, "I skimmed through some of the less interesting parts."
Again, Bianca found herself questioning how this man had made it to the position of Senior Constable. His work and attitude were lacklustre at best.
"On the night of his death, Lance Bradshaw was attending a dinner on Sid Delaney's invitation. It's Delaney's driver and her boyfriend who are currently accused of his murder. It has also come to light that Delaney needed Bradshaw either onside or not voting at all to get his proposed multi-million-dollar development application pushed through council. It seems a little too convenient don't you think, that Lance Bradshaw was put out of action permanently at that particular time?"
"Killing someone is a bit extreme just for one vote. Would one vote even make that much difference?"
"Bradshaw had a significant number of supporters among the councillors and the residents. As well as being rid of him, it sends one hell of a message to the others."
Anderson pondered that aspect for a minute or two while Bianca continued.
"Then Mr Francis Wilkie, our dead mystery man and, I think we can safely say, the murderer of Michael Collins although motive has not yet been established….no doubt it has something to do with a drug deal gone wrong…..can be placed at the scene of the Lance Bradshaw murder at around the time the councillor was killed."
"But didn't you say they were already prosecuting someone for that one? Isn't that hotshot dyke barrister, Janet King, handling the prosecution?" Anderson interrupted.
Although she had visions of herself pulling over to the curb and lecturing her senior constable long and hard on the insensitivity and sheer wrongness of his chosen words….a vision that may or may not have involved some level of physical violence….Bianca grudgingly chose to ignore his derogatory comment, deciding it would be like talking to a very thick brick wall, however, her grip on the steering wheel did tighten considerably. Instead, she said, "The Prosecution's case is beginning to look a little shaky…. Once the Defence finds out about the footprint….. "
"Footprint?"
"Yes. It's been confirmed that it was Wilkie's footprint found in the front garden bed of the Bradshaw house. It could only have been left there on the night Bradshaw was killed. Anyway, I have it on good authority that the Prosecution is going to ask for an adjournment so that this new evidence can be fully investigated."
"King's going to hate that," Anderson laughed, "the bitch hates being wrong."
"Don't we all," Bianca muttered. She was thinking back to a few months ago when Senior Constable Anderson first joined her team. Her Superintendent had drawn her aside and specifically requested that she take him under her wing as he was still a bit 'wet behind the ears' to use the man's exact words. Bianca had assured her 'Super' that she was quite capable of getting him up to standard, however, right now she wasn't quite so confident that she could or even wanted to.
Deciding that any further discussion of the case with SC Anderson at this point was only going to irritate her and perhaps lead her to commit a murder of her own, Bianca redirected the conversation.
"Can you put Delaney's address into the GPS? I know the general area but when we get closer…. It's 26 Cranbrook Road, Rose Hill." she asked.
"It's okay. I know where it is," Anderson replied then, suddenly feeling the need to provide an explanation, added, "I've got a mate who lives in the area…. Not in that street but nearby."
Other than the occasional navigational instruction from Anderson, they drove on in a slightly awkward silence which was eventually broken by the ringing of Bianca's phone that played through the car via the Bluetooth connection. Seeing the name 'Christine Williams' come up on the screen, Bianca pressed the button on her steering wheel to answer it.
"Hi, Chrissie. What can I do for you?" Bianca asked and added as a precaution, "Just so you know, I'm in the car and you're on speakerphone. Senior Constable Anderson is with me."
"Hi Bianca…..Hi, Josh."
Bianca smiled at the flirtatious tone Chrissie's voice adopted while Anderson simultaneously perked up at the mention of his name by the gorgeous Dr Williams and the fact that she had remembered him. Bianca imagined the cheeky wink that Chrissie would have given her. It was a game she had seen her play and win many times before.
"Hello, Doc," Anderson replied, aiming for smooth but striking well short of the mark.
"You were calling to tell me something?" Bianca said, stopping the game before it started in earnest.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. Remember you asked me to let you know if anything significant was found in the wreck of Wilkie's car…."
"Yes…" Bianca said hopefully.
"A large amount of cash….almost twenty-five grand was found in a bag hidden in the tyre well in the boot of the car."
"Where would Wilkie get twenty-five thousand dollars?" Bianca muttered to herself.
"But here's the best bit," Chrissie went on, "a mobile phone was found. It was caught under the front passenger-side seat…"
Bianca did a mental fist pump then looked over at Anderson to share her excitement only to find that the man who was a moment ago preening his ego was now sitting almost rigid with the colour suddenly drained from his face.
"Are you okay, Anderson?" Bianca asked.
Realising that his boss was addressing him and not Dr Williams, he replied, "I'm fine…. I'm feeling a bit car sick, that's all."
"Do you need me to pull over?"
Anderson shook his head. "If I open the window, I'll be fine."
Bianca didn't think her driving had been erratic enough to cause car sickness but she didn't dwell on the matter.
"Are you still there?" Chrissie asked.
"Yeah…Sorry….Anderson isn't feeling well….Where's the phone now, Chrissie?"
"My techies are going over it at the moment to see what they can retrieve. I'll let you know what they find as soon as possible. You can probably have the phone and the information tomorrow morning."
"That would be great. Thanks."
"By the way, Rose and I are meeting up at Odie's on The Rocks for drinks at seven this evening if you'd like to join us….You can bring a certain 'friend' if you want."
Bianca smiled to herself at the thought of her own rendezvous that evening. "I'd love to, Chris, but my 'friend' and I have already made plans for tonight. Thanks anyway."
"Okay…Another time perhaps?"
"Love to. Bye."
With those last words, the call ended. Bianca looked across at SC Anderson once more. Some of the colour had returned to his face but he seemed detached, lost in thought. His dark eyes were focussed off into the distance and his forehead was creased in a deep frown.
As they entered one end of Cranbrook Road, Bianca noted the time and then, much to her passenger's confusion, made a right-hand turn at the next corner.
"We were in Cranbrook Rd," Anderson said, a level of agitation beginning to show. "Where are we going now?"
"It's okay. We've got a few minutes up our sleeve," Bianca explained as they cruised slowly along the street. "The SUV was stolen from this street….number 26….I wanted to take a look."
"What are you hoping to find?"
His usual light manner was replaced with a sudden sullenness that was even less appealing.
"I'm not sure….just checking out the lay of the land." She brought the car to a stop outside number 26 and peered at the house and its surrounds, paying careful attention to the details.
Like most of the other houses in this and the surrounding streets, it was mansion-like in proportion although not the largest by far. Also, like the others, it would, no doubt, be absurdly expensive. It was immaculate in its presentation with lawns and hedges manicured to within an inch of their lives and bordered with gardens of well-trained shrubbery that dared not overstep their concrete confines. A pebbled-concrete driveway cut a swathe through the sea of uniformly-green grass and led up the slight incline to the house where it then divided, one section leading off to a double garage while the other section stopped outside a the rather prominent front door. A tall hedge screened the road from the owners' view.
If the SUV was parked in the driveway, it would have been a relatively-easy target, Bianca thought to herself although, in broad daylight, the thief would still need some nerve. Even from the street, it was easy to spot the security camera strategically attached under the eaves on the corner of the house, its roving eye vigilantly monitoring the area.
"Surely the cops investigating the theft have checked out the CCTV footage," Bianca muttered mostly to herself.
"What?" Anderson asked abruptly as the sound of Bianca's voice drew him away from preoccupation with his own thoughts.
"Nothing….thinking aloud….When we're finished here, I want you to make some calls and track down the security camera footage from the time the SUV was stolen. Get a warrant if necessary," Bianca instructed as she pointed towards the camera. "I can't believe it hasn't already been checked but It won't hurt to go over it again."
"Right," was Anderson's only reply, his enthusiasm completely underwhelming.
Satisfied that she had seen all there was to see here, Bianca put the car into gear and moved on, turning back into Cranbrook Rd at the next corner. This time, as she looked up the road, she could see two vehicles that weren't there before, parked at the curb outside where she assumed number 26 would be. Constable Alex Foster was leaning against the driver's side door of one of these vehicles with the necessary paperwork in her hand. As she spied Sergeant Grieve's car approaching, the young constable quickly straightened herself up and was immediately alert.
Having parked, Bianca strode the short distance up the footpath towards Constable Foster, an unusually subdued Senior Constable Anderson slunk several paces behind.
"Is that for me?" Bianca said with just a hint of a smile as she stopped in front of Constable Foster.
Alex nodded and handed her the warrant.
"Who else is here?"
"There's the two technicians, Aldridge and Hazlehurst," Alex replied as she signalled to an older man and a thirty-something woman, each in navy coveralls and carrying a small toolbox, to come over and join them.
"And they're up to speed on what can and can't be taken?" Bianca checked.
Again, Alex nodded. "I've fully briefed them. There's also Constable Chapman here with me to help out if there's any trouble."
On hearing his name, the fresh-faced constable who was standing only a metre or two away, signed off to the conversation he was having on his CB radio and joined the group as well. To finish the formalities, Bianca introduced herself and SC Anderson to the technicians who weren't a usual part of her team.
With everyone involved now assembled and aware of the procedure to be followed and the role they had to play, Bianca prepared to lead the small troop.
Set into the side of the hill that overlooked an inlet of Sydney Harbour known as Rose Bay, it wasn't until the group had made its way down the steep steps leading from the road above, that the enormity of the multi-levelled building was exposed and the great feat of engineering it would have required due to its location became fully-apparent.
Maybe size did matter, after all, Bianca thought to herself, in which case she wasn't even in the race.
The architecture was utilitarian by necessity, box set upon box set upon box, each one positioned forward slightly further as they progressed down the hillside. To add interest to this part of the house that Bianca and her team were now overlooking, three tall, narrow inserts of glass were set into the wall in a graduated fashion and the roof had been given a skillion line. The building's smooth-textured plaster exterior was painted in a mushroom colour with white as the only contrast. With the structure set towards the centre of a double block of land, Bianca could see what looked like gardens leading off down one side of the house….the garden area where Mrs Delaney had argued with Wilkie possibly…. and a wide path edged on either side by strips of lawn trundled down the other.
At the bottom of the steps, the group single-filed over a narrow 'bridge' in order to cross a magnificent water feature which was integrated seamlessly into the rock face. On the other side was a large landing of square, white marble tiles gracing the entrance to these top two floors of the building. Partially extending out over the landing was the patio that jutted out from the level above.
Bianca had observed the location of two security cameras at the front of the property and knew that Delaney would already be alerted to their arrival. She knocked on the door. They didn't have to wait long for it to be opened by the man himself and to Bianca's way of thinking, he didn't seem entirely surprised to see them. Perhaps it was a regular occurrence.
Sid Delaney was taller than suggested by the one or two photos Bianca had seen and despite his sixty-one years, he had managed to maintain an athletic appearance. The sergeant was sure they would find a well-used home gym somewhere in the house. Even now, he would probably be considered handsome with his head of thick, wavy hair which was predominantly silver but threaded through with the remnants of its original dark colouring. It was well-preened as was his stubbly beard. His olive skin was furrowed lightly across his forehead and his piercing green eyes were creased with fine lines at the edges. A nose that looked to have been broken at some stage in his life and a broad mouth gave him a slightly nuggetty edge. He was dressed casually in khaki cargo shorts and a striped Lacoste polo shirt. His feet were bare and in his hand, there was a freshly-opened bottle of beer.
"Mr Sidney Delaney?" Bianca asked.
"Yes."
Bianca and Anderson presented their badges for his perusal but he gave them only a cursory glance.
"I'm Sergeant Grieve and this is Senior Constable Anderson from the Australian Federal Police. We're here in conjunction with a case we are currently investigating. We have a warrant to seize any recordings stored by your security cameras," Bianca explained as she handed him the paperwork. "If you could show our technicians your system and then we'd like to ask you some questions, if we could."
Delaney took the warrant and quickly ran an eye over its contents then, nonplussed by their presence, he very cordially invited them in.
"If you want to wait here for me, Sgt Grieve," he said as he ushered them into the foyer where the white, marble floor continued and a large, elaborately-framed mirror looked at them from the wall, "I'll show your IT guy…and girl…to the engine room. I won't be too long."
Delaney led the entourage down a hallway with the self-assurance of someone who knows that they have nothing to fear from a police search. Anderson made to follow but Bianca grabbed him by the sleeve of his jacket.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I thought I'd take a look."
"No. You need to stay with me while I ask our friend, Mr Delaney, some questions."
Anderson's face took on a dour expression but he remained where he was.
As promised, it had only taken a few short minutes before Delaney returned. He suggested that the two Federal agents follow him into another part of the house where they could be more at ease.
They passed through a large living room minimally decorated with a long, white leather sofa, a glass and chrome coffee table and an enormous television screen. To add to the cavernous effect, the walls and high ceiling were all painted white. The eye was instantly drawn to the room's only splash of colour which emanated from a wildly vivid abstract painting mounted on one of the walls. Bianca was sure it was likely worth hundreds of thousands of dollars but it wasn't to her taste. As they walked across the room, its floor surfaced with a low-pile white carpet, she desperately hoped there was nothing nasty on the bottom of her shoes that would leave behind dirty tracks. Surely this room had to be a housekeeper's worst nightmare.
The next space was an industrial-scale kitchen. Bianca had to wonder why it was required when her bit of research had shown that even though they had three children only the two of them, Mr and Mrs Delaney, lived here on a permanent basis. Again, white walls featured as well as ample amounts of stainless steel. Every surface was sleek, shiny and clean. It gave off a coldness that made Bianca shiver.
Off from this and a neighbouring dining area was their destination, a covered patio, which they reached through a sliding glass door. The view of the bay that immediately greeted the eye was breathtaking.
"Can I offer either of you a drink of some sort….coffee….tea?" Delaney asked as he motioned to them to take a seat at the outdoor table setting. More white. More glass.
"No, thank you," Bianca replied while simultaneously Anderson said, "Yes, thanks."
Bianca shot him a glare that told him they were here on business not paying a social visit and, for once, he seemed to take the hint."
"On second thoughts," Anderson said, "hopefully, we won't be here long enough for coffee so I think I'll pass if that's okay."
Deciding it was time to get down to business, Bianca took her notebook and pen from her bag and rested them on her lap then asked, "Is your wife here, Mr Delaney? We have a couple of questions we'd like to ask her as well."
Delaney stretched back in his seat, his legs extended out in front of him and crossed at the ankles and his fingers laced around his beer bottle seeming, for all intents and purposes, unperturbed by their presence.
"I'm sorry, Sgt Grieve, Margaret isn't here. She's gone up to the Blue Mountains for a few days with her friend, Denise. Denise's father recently passed away and the funeral is today. She was very upset. Margaret's gone to give her some support."
"Would that be Denise Bradshaw, Lance Bradshaw's wife?" Bianca asked.
Delaney nodded. "The poor woman has lost her husband and her father within a few months of each other."
"When are you expecting her back?"
"Probably Thursday but that might change depending on how Denise is coping?"
Changing tack, Bianca then asked, "Do you know a Mr Francis Wilkie?"
Delaney scratched the grey stubble on his chin as he pondered the name.
"No, I don't believe I do," he finally replied but, after a quick glance at SC Anderson, he changed his mind. "Oh, you mean 'Franky'…. Not too many people dare to call him 'Francis' at least not to his face."
"Are you aware that he was killed in a car accident after leaving your house yesterday afternoon?"
Delaney took a moment to let the news sink in.
"No, I wasn't …. How did it happen?" he asked, his manner now more subdued.
"I can't go into details at this point, Mr Delaney, as we're still investigating the matter. In what capacity did you know him?"
"He used to drive trucks for my haulage company but they had to fire him when he lost his licence for DUI… company policy. Once he was out of a job his girlfriend kicked him out of her house…"
"I think you'll find she kicked him out because he was violent towards her," Bianca corrected.
"Whatever the reason…. He was down on his luck and I felt sorry for the poor bastard so I kept him on the payroll doing odd jobs for me."
"What sort of jobs?"
Bianca was aware of SC Anderson shifting uneasily in his seat. His eyes were down, completely focussed on his notepad.
"Anything I could find to keep him gainfully employed….personal errands, driving, a bit of debt collecting….that sort of thing."
"Your wife is friends with Denise Bradshaw but your relationship with Lance Bradshaw wasn't quite so amicable was it," Bianca asked as she changed the direction of her questioning once more.
"No, not of late," he answered with a wry smile.
"The night of your dinner party to which Mr Bradshaw was invited…. Was there a particular reason you invited him? Given the state of your relationship, it seems unusual."
Delaney reached forward and took his beer bottle from the table, at the same time, giving a dry laugh as he suspected he knew where the question was heading.
"Lance and I had had a bit of a falling out over some plans for a development in his area. I had invited him to the dinner in the hope of perhaps mending a few fences, that's all."
"You weren't hoping to change his mind? And his vote?"
"I guess that might have been an added bonus but no, it wasn't my motivation."
Bianca went on to question him about the woman he had employed as a driver and the events leading up to her driving Bradshaw home. When asked, Delaney had said that at first, he was surprised to find she had been charged, along with her boyfriend, of killing someone but as more of her personal circumstances became public, he figured it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.
"You had a bit of a party here on Sunday afternoon, I believe," Bianca asked.
"Yes, my development plans were finally approved by Council so I had a few friends over for a celebration….popped a few corks on some bottles of champagne…. nothing illegal, Sergeant," he replied with a touch of sarcasm.
"Are you aware that Mr Wilkie was also here at that time?"
"No, I wasn't," Delaney replied, a level of surprise evident in his face. His eyes flicked to SC Anderson but quickly averted back to Bianca. "He wasn't invited…Not his type of thing but it wouldn't be unlike Franky to turn up unannounced. Once he'd realised we were having a party, he probably would have left without bothering me."
"Actually, Mr Delaney, we have reason to believe he spoke to your wife."
"Margaret? He barely knows her. Why would he have a need to speak to her?"
"That's what we were hoping she could tell us."
Bianca had been about to ask a further question when she felt the vibration of her phone in her jacket pocket. She took it out and checked the caller ID. It was Janet. Being a personal call, her first instinct was hit 'decline' and let it go through to voice mail but using the excuse to herself that Janet had been doing some work on Delaney as well and might have some important information for her, she excused herself and answered, wandering over to the glass panels and chrome railings enclosing the patio and out of earshot, as she did so. From here she could see that the slope the Delaney place was sitting on had been terraced so as to create three tiers of level ground and extended right back to the street behind.
"Hi, Janet," Bianca said as she continued to scope the surrounding landscape, walking to the far end of the patio and peering down at the spacious garden area at the side of the building with its proliferation of palms and ferns. Away from the protection of the walls, a breeze played with a few strands of her dark hair that had managed to escape her ponytail during the day. She secured them behind her ear.
"Hi. You busy?"
"A little."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. What's up?"
"I've had my…a researcher, Briony, looking into our Mr Delaney and what she's come up with so far makes for some interesting reading…."
"I'm listening."
"He has his fingers in several noteworthy pies….a trucking company, a storage unit business, several industrial properties, as well as half a dozen luxury units in various locations around Sydney and northern NSW that he rents out, a property investment and development company called Future Planners and a construction company…. All up, he's worth close to $350 million…"
"Three hundred and fifty-million?" Bianca let out a silent whistle, impressed at the idea that one person could have that amount of money but her sceptical, police brain couldn't help wondering how much of it was from ill-gotten gains. She had done a bit of her own research on the man and knew he owned a significant amount of property but she hadn't been aware of the full extent of his wealth. She was, however, content to listen to Janet fill her in on it.
"But most interestingly…"
Janet hesitated. Bianca could hear the flicking of pages.
"Yes, go on."
"Back in February 1982, he changed his name. Today he's Mr Sidney Delaney…..prior to 1982, he was Mr Sidney Dellaqua…..and he has a brother, Charles 'Charlie' Dellaqua who…"
"Who was the importer behind that last shipment of drugs we seized….. the same ones that were found on Michael Collins."
The line went quiet as Bianca processed this new bit of information.
"Are there any other family skeletons I should know about?" Bianca finally asked.
"No, there's just the brother, Charlie. His parents died years ago…. No other siblings."
"I don't know exactly how it ties in but I'm sure with a bit of digging we'll find the connection. Thanks for that. Tell young Briony she's a genius."
"I don't know if I'd go that far," Janet laughed, "but she is very good and I'll pass on your appreciation."
Still mulling over this new piece of the puzzle, Bianca turned to face the table where the two men sat across from each other. They both were now leaning forward on the table engrossed in conversation. Delaney appeared relaxed as he drank his beer, however, Anderson who glanced over at Bianca several times, was tapping his pen nervously against the palm of his right hand.
"Are we still on for tonight?" Janet asked. Her voice had lost its professional edge and had instead taken on a lighter, almost playful note.
Bianca turned back to face the bay. "Most definitely," she answered in a voice just above a whisper.
"Great. Dinner is usually around 6:30pm on week nights but we can hold off a little longer if you think you can make it. If not, I'll save some for you if you like."
"Unless something unforeseen happens…." …..It was a forewarning Bianca was in the habit of using given her line of work…."I'll be there by 6:30 pm …maybe even a little earlier."
"Excellent. I look forward to it."
"Me too…..See you soon….Bye."
As Bianca placed the phone back in her pocket and got her smile in check, she turned to make her way back to the two men, her mind still pondering the information Janet had given her. Initially, she had planned to ask Delaney about his relationship with his brother, Charlie Dellaqua, and any business dealings they might have had but acting on gut instinct alone, she decided to keep this new-found knowledge to herself, sensing that it may give her an upper hand at some stage.
It was just as Bianca reached the table that Constable Alex Foster appeared at the doorway.
"We're all finished in here, Sergeant Grieve."
"And I think Anderson and I are finished too," Bianca added as she picked up her notebook and pen and dropped them in her bag which she then slung over her shoulder. "Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Delaney."
Delaney and Anderson both pushed back their chairs, stood and shook hands across the table.
"No worries, Sergeant, although I can't see how any of it could have been very useful to your investigation, unfortunately."
"You never know what's going to be useful until the questions are asked," Anderson said as he followed Bianca and Delaney back into the house. His sullen mood seemed to be lifting.
"Speaking of asking, I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you, Sergeant Grieve."
"You can definitely try," Bianca replied, "but I'm afraid I can't promise you anything."
Delaney stopped walking for the moment and turned to Bianca, his expression quite solemn.
"Frank Wilkie doesn't have any family and not much in the way of friends. I'd like to pay for his funeral if I can. Would that be possible?"
Bianca was struck by his sincerity. "I'm sure that could be arranged once the body is released," she replied, "I'll put SC Anderson in-charge of following that up."
Once they were at the front entrance where the remainder of her team was gathered and waiting, Bianca reached into her jacket pocket and produced one of her business cards.
"If I can ask a favour of you too, Mr Delaney," Bianca said as she handed the man her card. "Could you have your wife call me on this number as soon as possible? It would be greatly appreciated."
"Of course," he said as he took it from her, glanced at it and put it in his pocket.
They'd barely reached the bottom of the steps when Bianca heard the door close behind them.
oooOooo
Bianca managed to nudge her car into a parking space only a few doors up from Janet's place. It was a tight fit but she was up to the task. Before cutting the engine, she'd checked the clock on the dashboard. Despite the stop off at the grocery store on the way over as she didn't like to turn up empty-handed, she'd made good time. It was only a quarter past six.
After dropping Anderson back at Goulburn St, Bianca had decided that there was little else she could achieve in what was left of the working day…. She had officers scrutinising the security footage from Delaney's, Anderson was chasing up the same from the scene of the stolen SUV and Chrissie had her IT people going over the money and the phone found in Wilkie's car…. All bases were covered. She felt she could depart with a clear conscience.
Once she arrived home, she showered and changed into her favourite pair of jeans, a T-shirt and put a pair of well-worn Merrells on her feet then, as Janet had suggested, she carefully folded into an overnight bag, a pair of black trousers with a matching jacket, a white shirt and a fresh change of underwear. She popped her boots and accompanying socks into a separate plastic bag before placing them inside too.
While Bianca tapped the door-knocker and waited for it to be opened, she felt that familiar stir she had each time she knew she would soon be in Janet's company. It was a pleasurable combination of excitement and nerves and made her feel embarrassingly like a teenager on a first date.
Janet answered the door and gave her a broad smile, a smile that became even wider as she invited Bianca in and saw that she carried an overnight bag.
"You're early," Janet said as she leaned in and placed a brief but tantalising kiss on Bianca's lips.
"I'm sorry…..Is that alright?" Bianca was now worried that in her eagerness to see Janet she may have created an inconvenience.
"It's perfect," Janet replied with a laugh.
As if to make up for her sin of arriving early, Bianca said rather meekly, "I've brought dessert," and held out the shopping bag she was carrying.
Janet took it from her and looked inside. "Ice-cream," she said as she removed a large tub of vanilla ice-cream from the bag. "The kids will love you."
"It's not just any old ice-cream," Bianca explained, "it's very expensive and very delicious ice-cream."
"And…" Janet dipped into the bag again to find out what the second object inside was. "Chocolate topping."
She looked at Bianca with a raised eyebrow, a glint in those blue eyes and a tiny smirk.
"It's for the ice-cream," Bianca said innocently but with a small smirk of her own.
"Of course."
Before they could get any deeper into that particular conversation, there came the sound of small, bare feet racing down the hall.
"Bibi!"
"Bianca!"
'Hi guys," Bianca said as Liam took her free hand and Emma held onto the other arm.
"Come and see my train set, Bibi," Liam begged as he attempted to tug her towards their playroom.
"And my Lego rocket," Emma added, not to be outdone by her brother.
"Here, let me take that," Janet suggested as she reached for Bianca's overnight bag, "I'll put it upstairs for you while you go play."
With a twin holding each hand, Bianca was lead off to see their marvels.
"We're having tacos for dinner, if that's okay," Janet said as she followed behind.
"Great."
Back in the kitchen, Janet finished chopping the tomatoes and lettuce and added a squeeze of lemon juice to her freshly-made guacamole dip. She then put out the dinner plates, cutlery and napkins and poured a glass of white wine for herself and Bianca. Just before going to fetch Bianca and the twins, she placed a tray of taco shells in the oven and set the timer.
Rather than enter the room and disturb the activity, Janet remained in the doorway, leaning against the jamb and sipping her wine as she watched on contentedly. Bianca was sitting crossed-legged on the floor with Liam close to one side operating his train and busily explaining how it all worked. Emma sat on the other side. Bianca was helping her to construct a bridge over the train track with her building set.
The ding of the timer reminded Janet that dinner was ready although she was reluctant to bring the activity to a halt.
"Okay, kids, time to wash your hands and get ready for dinner," Janet said eventually.
With their own reluctance, the children put down their toys and made for the bathroom. Janet entered the room and extended a hand to Bianca to help her up off the floor. As Bianca rose to her feet, she allowed herself to fall into Janet's arms where their lips met until Janet remembered with a start that she had taco shells in the oven. She quickly released Bianca and raced for the kitchen, rescuing the basis of their dinner just in time.
The meal was demolished amid a steady flow of chatter, laughter and mess until eventually, when all the shells and taco filling were gone and stomachs were full, Janet sent the twins off to clean themselves up with the promise of half an hour TV time before they had to go to bed.
As Janet stood at the kitchen sink rinsing the greasy dishes that had been delivered from the table and stacking them in the dishwasher, she suddenly felt the gentle press of Bianca's body behind her and the slide of her hands as they encircled her waist, coming to rest just above her hips. Soft lips began to press tenderly against the curve of her neck and teeth nipped lightly at an earlobe, the flurry of Bianca's warm breath fanning a flame which had been brought to life much earlier that afternoon. Janet stopped her rinsing and tilted her head back onto Bianca's shoulder. She heard herself sigh as, with a wet hand, she caressed Bianca's cheek.
Realising what she'd done, Janet turned and, reaching for a nearby tea towel, made to wipe the damp streaks she'd left on Bianca's face.
"Sorry," she said with a soft laugh as she did so.
However, Bianca chose to ignore the wetness as she dipped her hands into Janet's hair and drew their mouths together into the kiss she'd been longing to give her all night.
"We forgot to have the ice-cream …..and chocolate sauce," Janet said in a low, still-breathless voice as their lips finally parted.
"Maybe we can have it later," Bianca whispered as she reached for Janet's mouth once more.
It was the cry for a story from the top of the stairs that finally drew them apart.
"Why don't you take your glass of wine into the living room and make yourself comfortable while I put the two terrors to bed," Janet suggested, "I won't be long."
Bianca accompanied Janet to the bottom of the stairs where she said her goodnights to Liam and Emma before Janet took them up to bed with the instruction that there was only going to be one story tonight so they had better choose wisely.
While Janet read to the twins, Bianca took up the suggestion and carried her wine into the living room where she kicked off her sandals, removed her phone from her pocket and put it on the low table then made herself comfortable, tucking her legs up on the sofa and resting against one or two strategically-positioned cushions. On the coffee table, sitting atop a copy of yesterday's Sydney Morning Herald, were a couple of travel brochures for Fiji which Bianca picked up and flicked through casually while she waited.
oooOooo
Having read to the end of another chapter of Harry Potter, Janet had tucked the twins into their beds, kissed them goodnight and made her way back downstairs, retrieving her glass of wine from the kitchen bench before joining Bianca in the living room.
"How did it go with Sid Delaney?" Janet asked as she put her glass on the coffee table and took up a position close to Bianca's side.
Bianca had gone to remove her legs from the sofa and sit up but Janet had caught them and placed them across her lap.
"I'm not sure…" Bianca answered as she enjoyed the teasing touch of Janet's fingers gently massaging her ankles. "He certainly acted like a man who had nothing to hide and he was happy to co-operate and answer questions….which could possibly mean he's as guilty as sin of something."
"What about his wife? What did she say about her argument with Wilkie?"
"She wasn't there. Apparently, Denise Bradshaw's father died and Mrs Delaney was away at the funeral."
While Janet pondered that bit of information, she reached over for her glass of wine. As she sipped its contents, her free hand rested across Bianca's thighs.
"Chrissie rang while we were driving over to Delaney's…. The forensics guys found a large sum of money and a phone while going through the ….."
Bianca took a sharp breath. Janet had slipped her hand between Bianca's thighs and was lightly stoking the inside, slowly running her fingers the length of her upper leg.
"Was it Wilkie's phone?" Janet asked, seemingly unaware of the internal ruckus she was causing.
"We won't know until forensics are finished with it," Bianca managed to say with a great deal of concentration. "How's Tony? Is he over the disappointment of having to adjourn the Bradshaw case?"
"I don't think so. He's given me two more difficult cases to replace it. My penance for daring to suggest he might have been wrong….. Anyway, that's a job for tomorrow," Janet said as she placed her glass back on the table then leaned over to kiss the tip of Bianca's chin. "Work's over now."
With those words, Janet moved her hand from between Bianca's thighs and manoeuvred so that she was hovering just above the full length of Bianca's body, her blue eyes capturing Bianca's gaze and her lips turned up in a devilish grin before lowering them to Bianca's in a kiss full of the heat and desire that had been building since they'd parted in the afternoon. Bianca wrapped her arms around Janet's body, drawing her weight down onto her, pressing her close and feeling the nudge of her hips against her own.
"Should I go and get the chocolate sauce?" Janet teased as they surfaced for air.
"Only if you don't mind chocolate sauce all over your sofa," Bianca replied as she dipped her hand into the swathe of blonde hair and gently coaxed her down into another kiss.
It was the sudden and loud ringing of Bianca's phone that drew them unwillingly apart.
Bianca looked at it sitting on the coffee table, its screen now bright with light. For an instant she considered not answering it although she knew it would be a dereliction of her duty as a police officer.
Janet pressed herself up onto her hands and passed Bianca the phone. Looking at the caller ID, Bianca could see it was a call from Chrissie. She reluctantly swiped the screen to answer.
oooOooo
The Goddess of Parking had not seen fit to shine on Chrissie this particular evening. The car park she usually used when going down to The Rocks area of the harbour was full so she had been forced to do several rounds of the nearby blocks in order to find a vacant parking space. Eventually, out of frustration, she pulled her hire car into a bay marked 'Loading Zone' that was in an unkempt alleyway, figuring there was little chance of anyone wanting to load goods at this time of day and, besides that, she would rather pay a fine than keep Rose waiting any longer.
Chrissie pressed her way through the usual crowd that bustled along this section of the waterfront, until she came to the small, outdoor area of Odie's Restaurant where she had arranged to meet Rose. It only took a glance to see that Rose hadn't arrived yet. Chrissie looked at her watch. She was only ten minutes late. Surely Rose hadn't given up on her so soon and left.
A waiter greeted her and asked if she would like a table. Chrissie gave the waiter a description of Rose and asked if he had seen at all. When he said that he hadn't she said in that case she would like a table for two somewhere in the outside area. He seated her at a spot next to a potted hedge and the rope cordoning off the restaurant from the walkway and then asked if she would like to order a drink which she did.
While she waited, she checked her phone for messages or missed calls but there were none. What was Rose playing at? She was always on time. Chrissie was about to call to make sure nothing had happened to her when the waiter returned with her glass of wine. Deciding she would give Rose another ten minutes, she put her phone away and took a sip of her wine instead. As she placed the glass back on the table, she heard a voice call in her direction. She looked around.
"Hi, Doc."
"Senior Constable Anderson. Fancy meeting you here….again," Chrissie said with genuine surprise as she spied him walking towards her table.
Anderson extended a hand which Chrissie shook. His palm was doughy and damp with perspiration, despite the coolness of the evening which the sea breeze brought with it.
" 'Josh' is fine seeing as I'm not on official business," he laughed as he pulled out the seat opposite her and sat down not letting the lack of invitation put him off. "I'm meeting some friends here for a drink…. I'm a bit early and I saw this hot woman sitting here on her own so I thought I'd keep her company…. It turned out to be you."
Chrissie was sure she could feel the skin crawl on the back of her neck.
Anderson signalled to a passing waiter that he would like a beer then turned his attention back to Chrissie.
"I thought you were meeting someone here too….Ruby?... She hasn't turned up yet?"
"Rose," Chrissie said. She considered for a moment telling him the true nature of their relationship in the hope of extinguishing any chances he thought he had with her and cutting short his advances but instinct told her not to. She'd bet good money that he was a paid-up member of the "She just needs the right man to straighten her out" contingent. "She's running late but she shouldn't be too far away."
"A man could die of thirst here," Anderson said impatiently, "I think I'll go to the bar myself. Can I get you another wine?"
Only having had one or two mouthfuls, Chrissie shook her head. "No, thanks."
Damn it! Where was Rose? Where were Anderson's friends to relieve her of his company?
For the want of something better to do, she watched as he strode to the bar. Unexpectedly, tiny bells of recognition began ringing in the back of her head but she wasn't sure as to what they were telling her. Ignoring them, she went back to looking at her watch and wandering where Rose was and whether she was alright. Perhaps this was payback for the way she had abandoned her at the Delaney's party.
After being served and emerging from the crowd huddled around the bar, Anderson approached Chrissie's table again, his beer held in one hand while he replaced his phone in his pocket with the other. The bells were ringing louder. Chrissie paid closer attention. Suddenly it struck her. He was most certainly the right height and the right physique, she thought to herself. Today he wore a white T-shirt rather than navy blue but it had the same snug fit and, if she wasn't mistaken, the blue jeans he had on were very similar as were the black runners.
On reaching the table, he availed himself of the seat opposite her once more with no qualms as to whether his presence was desired or not. He then raised his glass up with a "Cheer" and chinked the side of Chrissie's glass.
"Cheers," she replied weakly as she took a fortifying mouthful of her wine. With the realisation of who this person actually was, Chrissie felt some of the colour drain from her face although she was fairly confident that Anderson was too self-absorbed to notice. She knew she needed to keep her nerve.
Having let Anderson gradually down almost his entire drink while regaling her in tales of his various adventures in which she feigned great interest, Chrissie gamely suggested that he might like to write down his phone number for her for 'future reference'.
His chest puffed up visibly.
"Why don't you put it straight into your phone?" he suggested as he watched her rifle through her bag for a pen and paper.
"I don't have one at the moment," she lied, "the one I had was rubbish….It kept breaking so I tossed it and I haven't had a chance to buy a replacement."
Finally finding what she was looking for, she slipped a small notepad and pen across the table to him.
He flicked through to a blank page and wrote down his name and number. Chrissie noted that he used his left hand when he wrote. Her mind flashed back to the day before and the image of the man carrying what was most likely a gun in his left hand. He then pushed the pad and pen back towards her. She carefully slipped them back into a separate, empty section of her bag where she hoped the fingerprints would be preserved. She could compare them to any found on the stolen SUV.
On draining the last of his beer and seeing that Chrissie was almost finished her drink also, he asked if she would like another round. Chrissie looked at her watch and frowned.
"I'd better not," she replied, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. "My friend obviously isn't coming for whatever reason and I have to drive. I should be getting home. I've got work tomorrow."
"Right. Maybe I'll see you another time. Give me a call when you have your new phone."
"Sure." Chrissie pushed her seat back, slung her bag over her shoulder and after a final 'Bye', left him to his own devices. It took all of her self-control to walk until she was out of sight of the restaurant and SC Josh Anderson rather than break into a run.
Free from the bustle and noise of the crowd now that she had left the waterfront area and entered the streets, she stopped and pulled her phone from her bag. She found Bianca's number at the top of her 'Contacts' list and called her.
She then continued to walk at a brisk pace towards where her car was parked, wishing desperately that she'd left it in a better lit area. She listened anxiously as Bianca's phone rang once….twice… three times. As she walked, she looked back over her shoulder and down the shadowy street sensing that she wasn't alone but it was empty. Finally, much to her relief, she heard Bianca's voice at the other end of the line.
"Hi Chrissie. This had better be important."
"I think I know who he is…"
Hearing the near-panic in her friend's voice, Bianca immediately untangled her body parts from Janet's and assumed an upright and alert position on the sofa.
"You think you know who who is?" Bianca asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
The expression on Bianca's face had become one fraught with concern.
"The driver of the SUV….the guy who shot…."
Suddenly her words were cut off.
"Chrissie, who is it? Where are you? Chrissie."
There was no answer. The line was dead.
oooOooo