Private Sydney (Private 12)

For the first time, we had widened our edge on the police resources and we had our tech marvel to thank for it.

Chapter 43

JOHNNY PULLED UP outside the vacant block. The address may have been bogus but the street existed. Two blocks back from the nearest main road and quiet, even for this time of day. Down the road, the shell of a service station had been fenced off. Within a hundred metres, the yards of three dilapidated houses displayed For Sale signs.

He tried the side with an overgrown jacaranda first. In the drive sat a white ute. Top Job Pipes and Plumbing. A 1800 number was printed on the back and side.

A man in a blue workman’s shirt answered the door. He had a piece of toast in one hand and took the chance to slip past a crying toddler. As the door closed, the child began to scream from inside. The man unlocked the vehicle and placed the toast on the dashboard before turning to Johnny.

‘Hi. My name’s Johnny Ishmah. I’m investigating Zoe Ruffalo’s kidnapping.’

‘Yeah, I saw that on the news. Makes you think no one’s safe anymore.’

‘The police are keen to interview this couple. I was wondering if you could take a close look and see if you recognise one or both of them.’

The man wiped both hands on his shirt before taking the first digifit. ‘So you think they live around here?’ He looked carefully at the face then shook his head.

‘How about the woman?’ Johnny swapped the pictures.

‘Sorry, mate, haven’t seen either of them. We only moved in three months ago. If she is from around here, the codger across the road’ll be your best bet. He’s about ninety in the shade and sits out there every day.’ He pointed towards a red brick house with a half-verandah diagonally opposite. ‘Reckon Frank knows all the neighbourhood’s little secrets.’ He climbed into the ute and wound down the window. ‘Hope you find the bastards that did it.’

Johnny was relieved that the public appeals had at least made an impact. Overnight, as a long shot, he had scanned the images into facial recognition ID software. It hadn’t paid off. The sketches may have looked accurate but lacked the exact dimensions of mouth to nose, ear contours and forehead size.

He crossed the road and walked into the elderly man’s yard. A cat took off from the front verandah leaving white hairs in the cushioned cane chair it had been curled on. Beside that was a wooden chair with tattered tapestry cushions. Against one of the chair’s arms, a full metal ashtray stood on a spiral wooden stem base. It had to be from the 1950s. Johnny’s grand parents had one similar. The smell reminded him of that house, where smoke had darkened the walls and embedded in all the furnishings.

Above, an abundance of spider webs hung from the guttering. Johnny knocked loudly on the closed screen door. There was no answer. He tried again.

This time he walked around the house, hoping the gentleman was in his backyard. Through the rear window, he saw a still figure.

Slumped across the breakfast table.

Chapter 44

JOHNNY TRIED THE back door. It was locked. He raced around the front of the house and entered through the screen door.

The man was facedown on the table, a radio playing by his side.

Johnny tried to feel a neck pulse when suddenly the man took a gasp and snorted. He was asleep.

‘Sir! Frank!’ Johnny shouted.

He sat up and Johnny stepped back.

‘Who the hell are you?’ he demanded. There was no sign of fear or concern about a stranger in his home.

‘Johnny Ishmah. I thought you were … You didn’t seem to be breathing.’

‘I was trying to hear the race results. Must have nodded off.’ He rubbed the stubble on his chin and licked his lips. ‘Are you my new carer?’

‘No, I was knocking. You didn’t answer.’

‘Funny thing about screen doors is you can hear through ’em.’

Johnny suppressed a smile. ‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Just a minute …’ He adjusted something on his hearing aid. ‘No point wasting batteries when I’m on my own. Now what are you here for again?’

Before Johnny could answer, the elderly gentleman picked up a walking stick and slowly lifted himself from the chair. He was stooped, and he shuffled to the front door.