Private Sydney (Private 12)

Chapter 18

I STOOD AND turned the chair back around. Mary cleared her throat.

‘Craig, about this morning –’

I raised a hand. ‘You don’t have to –’

‘No, I was way out of line.’

She got no further as Collette burst in, red-faced. ‘You two need to see this!’

We moved quickly into the conference room and Collette turned on the curved screen.

A news bulletin showed crime-scene tape around a suburban home. A woman had been brutally murdered in Killara.

A banner across the bottom read Fiddens Wharf Road. ‘It’s the same street as Louise Simpson,’ Collette said.

The potential surrogate for the Finches. I noticed Mary’s body tense.

Johnny and Darlene joined us as an image of a blue Toyota Corolla in a carport appeared. Its number plate was pixellated.

My heart began to pound as I asked Johnny what car Louise Simpson drove.

Johnny’s eyes fixed on the screen. ‘That exact make and model.’

Chapter 19

THE YOUNG REPORTER pressed her earpiece and relayed what she knew. ‘We understand that at approximately four-twenty this afternoon, a woman’s body was found inside the home by an elderly neighbour. This gentleman noticed the front door was wide open. That’s when he made the shocking discovery.’

The network’s ‘serious’ news anchor, Bruce Davitt, pushed for details. ‘Has the man been able to help police piece together what happened?’

‘Bruce, ambulance officers are on the scene and we understand they’re treating the neighbour for shock. Police are standing by to interview him.’

‘Do we know anything about the victim or how she died?’

‘As yet, the victim’s name hasn’t been released but I can tell you that homicide detectives have arrived.’

On her laptop, Darlene had pulled up the Google street images of Louise’s address. My heart sank. The reporter was across and down the road, but the house looked similar to the one on Darlene’s screen.

Bruce Davitt announced that residents in the suburb of Killara were shocked at the gruesome discovery. As we watched people walking dogs recoil with predictable horror at the mention of murder in their neighbourhood, I phoned Deputy Commissioner Brett Thorogood.

His phone went straight to voicemail. I asked him to ring me urgently about the Killara homicide victim. Johnny, meanwhile, tried to reach the Finches. His olive skin blanched when he heard a prerecorded announcement. The number was not connected.

‘I emailed them a couple of hours ago with the information,’ he said. ‘It had the Killara address in the report.’ He tried emailing again. This time his message bounced straight back.

My phone rang. It was Brett Thorogood.

He immediately confirmed the dead woman’s name.

Louise Grace Simpson.

Chapter 20

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Darlene and I were at the scene. Thanks to Private’s arrangement with the police to share resources, we were allowed in.

Darlene donned plastic overalls and headed in first with her collection kit. I assessed the scene from the outside. The front yard contained potted native plants. A wooden carport housed the Corolla. Around the side of the house, a bathroom window was slightly ajar. The soil was damp but there were no footprints or signs of entry.

The backyard was larger, with a glassed-in verandah. A magnetic board on an easel stood beside a small plastic table and chairs.