Private Oz (Private 7)

I rushed over expecting the worst. Blood was running down Dai’s cheek, dripping from his jaw. But he must have had the same awareness Lin was going to shoot as I had. He’d moved just in time. The Chinaman’s bullet had just grazed the boy’s temple.

I pulled Dai to his feet. He was shaking uncontrollably. I untied the cord around his wrists and he started to cry, tears streaming down his cheeks. He put a hand to his face and came up with bloodied fingers.

We could hear sirens. “It’s okay,” I said, realizing I was pretty shaken up too. “Just a scratch. You’re going to be fine, Dai. It’s all over, buddy.”

Chapter 92

I GOT EVERYONE into the conference room real early. I hadn’t slept and had gone straight to Private from Police HQ. They’d questioned me for nearly three hours before they were satisfied I couldn’t have done anything different with Lin. Mark had gloated his way through the grilling of course and had taken pleasure in my discomfort. Nothing new there.

I surveyed the others. Everyone was exhausted. I had that morning’s paper in front of me. The headlined screamed: “Sydney Slasher Claims Another Victim.”

I exhaled loudly and felt a stab of frustration. “We’re getting nowhere fast with this,” I lifted the Sydney Morning Herald. “Darlene, anything?”

“Only what I said yesterday afternoon. I’m sure the killer is a woman.”

The others had been told about Darlene’s DNA findings.

“Not conclusive though,” Mary said. “We know the victims were all acquainted. The blonde hairs could have come from a mutual friend.”

Darlene looked at the table, nodded.

“But what if they were the killer’s? Let’s run with that for a sec,” I said.

“There’s no match on the database.” Johnny commented.

“Means nothing. Maybe the murderer had never committed a crime until …”

“Alright,” Justine said suddenly. “What if she happens to be a ‘respectable’ bleached blonde friend of the dead women and part of the same social circle? Maybe the motive was some relationship mess or simple jealousy.”

“The wife of a banker or a corporate suit gone gaga?” Darlene looked up. “Maybe it is a sex thing. An Eastern Suburbs mom taking revenge on women her husband’

s slept with?”

I raised my hands. “Hang on, let’s calm down!”

“Actually, I don’t believe that,” Darlene backtracked.

“Why?”

“For a start, the hair was not recently bleached. There was significant regrowth. That in itself suggested the woman didn’t pamper herself. How many wealthy women walk around with weeks of roots growing out?”

“Search me!” Johnny said, rolling his eyes at me.

“And my sister insists that Elspeth and Stacy weren’t messing around,” Justine commented.

“Besides,” I added, “the banknotes don’t fit the theory, do they? The very fact that the notes are fake suggests the killer isn’t a rich woman living in the same area as the victims … unless that’s a trick.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” Mary exclaimed. “We’re going round in bloody circles!”

“No, no … rewind,” I said suddenly excited. I stood up and started pacing close to my chair. “Let’s say it’s not a trick and that the killer is poor … a woman from outside the area. She can’t afford real fifty-dollar bills. She photocopies them. Yes!” I gazed around the room at the faces of the team. For a moment they all looked a little perplexed.

Then I remembered something. “Darlene you told me the other day, the fakes are high-quality photocopies. What if our killer photocopies the notes at a shop instead of at home? And what if … What if the murderer, this woman who’s left hair strands, doesn’t live in the Eastern suburbs, but works there?”

“I’ll get onto it – visit all the copy shops in the area,” Johnny said as excited as me. “I think you’re onto something, boss.”

Chapter 93

“SO, WHAT D’YOU have?” I asked Johnny as he came into my office two hours later looking jaded.