ACCESSORY TO MURDER

The car came through the church gates: black, funereal, laden with flowers. Half-hidden behind a crumbling headstone, Constable Maddie Seymour watched with interest as it came to a halt. A black-clad figure emerged and stood blinking in the bright sunlight, hugging herself as though to contain her pain.
The man beside Maddie grunted in satisfaction. "Rosemary," he said. "On her own. Looks like the brother's still missing then. But we'll wait just a bit longer. If the sod doesn't come, we'll put out a call." And Sgt. Brewster grinned with relish as he wiped the sweat from his face with fat red fingers.
"I reckon it has to be Rosemary's brother," he continued. "Stands to reason. The old lady has a heart attack and dies and Jamie comes to collect the inheritance. Then he finds out that not only does he have to share it with his sister but the old lady's companion gets a cut too. No wonder he's done her in."
The young constable shuddered. She still felt sick when she remembered Doris, the old lady's companion. They'd found her sprawled in the bedroom, her head resting in a red soup that Maddie really didn't want to think about right now. It was this that had brought them out to the country property - only to find the family party waiting to set out for the church. It was burying grandmother time. After just a quick look around, Maddie and the sergeant had gone on ahead to the church. It seemed more important to study the living than the dead right now.
And this was the family party - what was left of it. Once there had been a grandmother and her companion. And a grandson and his sister. But the grandmother now lay in her coffin, while the companion stained the bedroom carpet back at the house. The grandson seemed to have disappeared. Only the grand-daughter was left, looking thin and frail as she walked into the church, dabbing at her nose and eyes with an insubstantial lace handkerchief.
"I always knew there'd be trouble one day," Sgt Brewster told Maddie. "That Jamie - he was always wild. Used to come out here sometimes with his sister for holidays. Rosemary was a quiet little thing - but Jamie! He was only fourteen when he pinched a car and went joy riding one time. Managed to crash it too. Whole town knew who it was, but we couldn't touch him. The family squared the owners, you see, so they never pressed charges. Jamie didn't come visiting for a long time after that, but I always knew we'd get him one day." And Sgt Brewster rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
"They're about to start. Maybe we should go in?" Maddie suggested as the last stragglers disappeared through the church doors.
"You go in. I'll wait here, see if the bugger turns up." Sgt Brewster gave her an impatient push. "Go on, girl. Get inside."
The 'girl' got. As she slid into a pew in the back row, she looked around. The church was full, the congregation's attention concentrated on the granddaughter, Rosemary, who seemed to sense their interest for she looked over her shoulder to give them a watery, green-eyed stare before burying her face in her hanky once more.
"Poor lass," the sergeant said tenderly, easing his bulk onto the pew. "First her grandma dies, and now she's got all this trouble to worry about."
Maddie moved across, trying to get away from the touch of his wet skin and the smell of sweat that emanated from his armpits. Her thoughts strayed as her gaze wandered around the church. Her first murder case! When she wasn't feeling sick about it, it seemed really exciting. Pity it was all so cut and dried though.
Or was it? Her eyes narrowed as she focused on Rosemary in the front pew.
The black suit was elegant, padded shoulders and long sleeves emphasising the fragility of the shaking hand that reached up to adjust her hat, pulling it low over sleek dark hair. The hand paused for a moment, touching earrings, which she snatched off and pocketed. But Maddie had caught a glimpse of green - a green that exactly matched the colour of Rosemary's eyes.
She stifled a small grin. The grieving granddaughter was keeping up appearances - but maybe she wasn't quite so heartbroken as the sergeant believed.
"I thought we might have missed him." The penetrating whisper caught her attention. "I figured he might already be in church, trying to establish an alibi. But there's no sign of him here either. Come on, girl. There's work to do." And the sergeant heaved himself off the hard wooden pew and beckoned Maddie to follow.
As they careered down the dirt road towards the gracious old homestead, Maddie wondered if Sergeant Brewster ever addressed the other male constables as 'boy.' Perhaps it was his way of punishing her? He'd made no secret of his dismay at being sent a female constable. Apparently it was a first for the station. She fumed silently as she opened the gate and he negotiated the car across the low, narrow bridge that now seemed inadequate for a river still swollen and unpredictable after recent heavy rains.
They were met at the door by old Elsie.
"So you've come back," she said unnecessarily, stepping aside to make room for them.
She had been laying out the funeral feast and was full of self-righteous satisfaction as she led them through to the dining room.
"Don't think I've got time to sit talking to you," she said. "This bother's put me right back. Doesn't seem right somehow, having the wake here for the old lady while that .." Elsie jerked her head upwards, ".. while that poor Doris is just lying murdered up there." Her mouth turned down. "Still - no time to change the arrangements, I s'pose. I'll just have to do the best I can." And she gave a loud sniff as she glanced expectantly at the sergeant.
He came in right on cue. "I know you're busy, Elsie," he said unctuously, "but we need your help. We're looking for Jamie. He wasn't at the funeral."
"Nah, he wouldn't be - 'cos he dunnit!" Elsie's tone left no room for doubt. "Always been wild. And he's got a nasty temper. You should've seen him having a go at that reporter what came."
There was a brief silence while Maddie's pen flashed across her notebook, trying to keep up with old Elsie's prejudice.
"What reporter?"
"The one from that Sydney newspaper," Elsie explained. "You should've seen her! Long blonde hair - and big in front, you know?" Her hands sketched images in the air.
Sgt Brewster smirked appreciatively.
"Here to do a piece on the old lady, she was. All about her charities and such. Did you know Mrs Cavendish was planning to donate half a million bucks towards a new children's wing at the local hospital?"
This was news!
Maddie leaned forward, eyes alight with interest as Elsie continued: "Well, I guess the papers got hold of it. Anyway, this reporter came out to do a piece on it. I think the hospital's hoping the heirs'll carry out the old lady's wishes." She sniffed again. "But they won't, you'll see. At least, not Jamie. I'd have thought the reporter was just his type, you know? But he sent her packing. And just after that, poor old Doris was found dead with her head smashed in." Elsie's eyes gleamed. "One less to inherit, you see. Jamie made sure of that - never mind donating money to the local hospital!"
"So where is Jamie, do you think?"
Elsie shrugged. "Who knows? He'll be off by now, getting set to spend his inheritance."
But how? Maddie frowned. Jamie would surely know there'd be a search for him. He couldn't hope to hide indefinitely. Then another thought struck her.
"Did you see the reporter leave?" she asked.
Elsie gave her a brief dismissive stare. It was obvious she preferred dealing with the higher ranking Sgt Brewster. "Jamie saw her off," she said indifferently. "He took her as far as the gate. They were arguing all the way. I never saw her after that."
"And where was Rosemary while all this was going on?" Sgt Brewster was anxious to recapture the initiative.
"In the village. Told me she had to pick up some booze for this do here."
"And what can you tell us about her?"
"Not much," Elsie admitted reluctantly. "She didn't often come to visit her grandma. It was just chance that she was here when the old lady died. Rosemary always said Coolabarra was too far to come from the city, but I reckon country life just doesn't suit her. She always looks out of place when she does come down. Over-dressed, know what I mean? Always wears suits or dresses, with matching handbags, shoes, that kind of thing." And she looked down at her own shabby black sandals, sides bulging to accommodate bunions and flat feet, with bleak satisfaction.
"What about the reporter? What was she wearing?" Maddie wondered if they should put out a call for her as well. "Short green dress - too short. You could practically see her knickers! But it had long sleeves, even though it's so bloody hot. Mind you - it was low enough in front for plenty of ventilation." Elsie primmed her lips virtuously as she added: "She had a briefcase with her. A large black one."
Maddie's mind clicked busily. A green dress? "Rosemary was wearing green earrings in church." She whirled to confront the sergeant. "Green earrings!" she emphasised, just in case he'd missed the point.
"What are you twittering on about? This isn't a bloody fashion parade." The sergeant had been eyeing the spread on the table for some time, rocking from one foot to another, shifting slowly forward. "You get out to the car and put out a description of Australia's most wanted." And he reached out to a plate of sandwiches.
"But I don't know what Jamie looks like."
The sergeant's hand hovered indecisively between curried egg and ham and tomato. "Go upstairs girl! See if you can find a bloody photograph." The rest of his speech was lost in a spray of mashed egg, but Maddie thought she detected the words: "use some bloody initiative" amongst the enthusiastic munching.
Glad to do as she was told, she raced upstairs before the sergeant could change his mind.
The bedrooms lay in a line down the passage. The first, rather frowsty with its stuffed furniture and old lady smell, was not what she was looking for although her eyes widened in surprise as she noted the ransacked cupboards and open drawers. The second bedroom had an open suitcase beside the bed. Maddie bent over and checked out the shaving kit, thinking through the implications of her find.
Doris' bedroom was on the other side of the corridor. She hurried past it, relieved that the door was closed, and entered the last bedroom. Her eyes gleamed as she noticed a filmy negligee half-stuffed under the pillow, and make-up spread out across the dressing table. This was the room she wanted - but what was she looking for?
Anything and everything, she decided, as she opened the top drawer of the dressing table. As she sifted through the contents of Rosemary's jewellery box, her fingers paused on a pair of black earrings. Her eyes were thoughtful as she remembered the dark-haired woman in church. Black didn't particularly suit Rosemary's dark hair and sallow skin - so why had she brought the suit along? And why wasn't she wearing the earrings that matched it? Old Elsie had made a point of Rosemary's thoroughness when making a fashion statement. These earrings bore testimony to that, while Rosemary's speed in snatching off the green earrings in church smacked slightly of desperation. Why had she put them on in the first place?
Maddie thought she already knew the answer as she began a quick but systematic search of the rest of the room. But she found nothing else of interest.
Finally, muttering impatiently to herself, she dragged a chair over and stood on it to inspect the top of the heavy, old-fashioned wardrobe that stood squarely along one wall of the room. There had been nothing inside it - but what about on top?
She leaned over the carved wooden panel that blocked her view and gave the wardrobe false height. She could see nothing, but her searching fingers touched something soft and silky like cat fur. Or a rat?
She snatched her hand back with a small cry, and listened hard. But there was no sound and no movement. Cautiously, she reached over and gave the fur an experimental poke. No sharp teeth sank into her hand. Not giving the creature a chance to change its mind, she grabbed it and threw it onto the floor - and found herself staring down at a long, blonde wig.
Gotcha! she thought, remembering Elsie's description. Her suspicions were starting to come together now. Hardly daring to hope, she reached over once more and felt about. And this time she hit the jackpot. A black briefcase, containing money and jewellery. And a green dress, wrapped around two rolled-up socks. Maddie grinned. No wonder the reporter's bust had made such an impression on old Elsie!
She reached over for one last feel around, her heart jumping nervously as she noticed the time. The service must have ended by now. The sombre cars would be bringing the mourners back to the house.
But this time the cupboard was bare. Maddie frowned. Surely this was only part of the puzzle? What had she missed? She closed her eyes, focusing on the images that unfolded in her brain.
The news that the old lady was proposing to donate money to the local hospital. Was that the trigger? Did Rosemary, desperate to preserve her inheritance, rush out to visit her grandmother in a last effort to make her change her mind? The old lady had died before the will could be altered. Lucky for Rosemary - who had packed a black suit, just in case!
Maddie made a mental note. It was just as well the old lady had been buried, not cremated. Even though she'd supposedly died of a heart attack, analysis of her remains could prove interesting.
But what about the companion, Doris? And the missing Jamie? Why had he vanished? Where had he gone? The shaving kit and half-packed case in his bedroom coupled with his absence from church indicated that he might not have gone willingly. So where was he?
As she looked out of the window towards the swollen river, she remembered Doris' words: "You should've seen him having a go at that reporter what came .. he sent her packing."
Had he? Or had it actually been the other way around?
A possible scenario unfolded in Maddie's imagination.
"It's all right, Jamie. Our inheritance is safe. But you've got to cover up for me."
"Who the hell ..? Rosemary! God, I never recognised you all dressed up like that!"
"No - that's the general idea. I told old Elsie I was a reporter from Sydney, come to talk to the heirs about grandmother's plans to donate money to the hospital. She was quite unsuspecting - took me in to see that old fool Doris - who by the way is now lying dead upstairs, killed by person or persons unknown. I've got grandmother's jewels in my briefcase and I've messed things around a bit - made it look like Doris interrupted a burglar. But you've got to back me up, Jamie. You've got to tell everyone that Doris was alive when you saw the reporter to her car. And we'll give each other an alibi for the time of her death."
"But .."
"Don't look so horrified, Jamie! I thought you were pleased that grandmother had been helped along before she had a chance to throw away our inheritance. I thought you'd want me to take care of Doris's share too."
Jamie confronts his sister. He is pale and shaking. "Have you gone mad?" he shouts. "They're bound to suspect us - we're the heirs for God's sake!"
"Listen to me!" His sister puts a hand on his arm. "It'll work out all right. I told Elsie I was going shopping in the town. My car's hidden on the other side of the river. You can tell everyone that the reporter gave you a lift into town and that you met me there to help carry the grog. I'll find somewhere to change, and then we'll drive back together just in time to discover Doris' body - if she hasn't already been found. If suspicion falls on anyone, it'll be on the reporter. And she will have vanished by then. Trust me, Jamie. All you have to do is keep your nerve and back me up."
"No! I'm having nothing to do with it!" Jamie shakes her angrily. "It's your problem. You explain it away. Damn it all, Rosemary, Doris was good to grandma. She deserved recognition."
"You spineless bastard!" Rosemary's tone is full of disgust as she faces her brother. "I did this to help you too, Jamie. And it'll work, just so long as we keep our stories straight. Look -walk with me to my car and we'll talk about it."
In her mind, Maddie saw the two figures beside the swiftly flowing river. Elsie had said they were arguing. Rosemary must have realised that Jamie wouldn't back her up. Once out of sight of the house, she must have acted: a blow to the head, a sudden push - and Jamie was no longer a threat to her security. Even better - he would be suspected of murder.
As soon as she saw she was safe, Rosemary must have changed for the funeral then driven back to the house to unload the grog. But she would have been upset, in a hurry - and so had forgotten to change her earrings. Was that how it had happened?
Maddie's imagination was working overtime now as she pictured the final scene: Rosemary, back in church, hysterical with grief as she tries to come to terms with her brother's terrible crimes and the last tragic accident that has prevented him from enjoying his ill-gotten gains.
Clever Rosemary, with the inheritance safe now - and all hers.
But why? Why had she taken such risks to get her hands on all the old lady's money? Was she merely greedy? Or desperate?
Maddie's brain raced as she tried to solve the last of the puzzle.
She remembered the frail figure emerging from the car at the church. Rosemary, sniffling into her handkerchief, wiping tears from her eyes, hugging herself as though in pain. She seldom visited her grandmother and in all likelihood had even murdered the old lady - yet her grief had seemed real enough to fool the sergeant.
Something else bothered Maddie. The black suit. The green dress. Both had long sleeves. Why? Not for warmth - not on such a hot day. Nor for modesty. Not when the green dress had barely covered Rosemary's pants if old Elsie was to be believed.
So why the long sleeves?
They're important, Maddie thought, remembering her brief stint in the city before being posted out bush.
Kings Cross - and the miserable heroin addicts trying to turn a trick, trying to hide the symptoms of their need: the running eyes and nose, the stomach cramps, the long sleeves that hid the needle tracks up their arms.
Rosemary's need was just as great as any Kings Cross addict -although no doubt she was counting on grandma's money to keep her away from the Cross for some time yet.
Poor Rosemary. Maddie wondered how gaol would suit her - and whether she'd still be an addict when she got out? "Maddie? For Chrissake, what are you doing up there?"
"Coming, Serg!" Hastily, Maddie assembled her bundle of evidence, wondering if it would be better left in place until they had time to come back with a search warrant?
Not worth the risk, she decided, tucking the bundle under her arm, knowing full well it would follow Jamie into the river - or be burnt - if Rosemary was given time to take care of it.
But they would have to come back with a warrant, she knew that. The river would have to be dragged, and the whole house taken apart to find evidence of Rosemary's addiction. Because in her own mind, Maddie was quite sure she was on the right track. Sgt Brewster might have preferred another male constable on his staff, but Maddie knew that he needed her woman's eye for detail. He could never hope to compete with that!
As she marched downstairs, her mind was full of plans - and problems. The most pressing was how to convince the sergeant to act on her ideas, while persuading him they were all his in the first place. More important was how to claim credit where it really mattered for solving the case.
Maddie unwrapped the bundle and spread it out amongst the plates on the table, ignoring Elsie's exclamation of disapproval.
"Sergeant, we need a search warrant." She blinked innocently up at him. "Why don't you look through these things I've found while I get on to headquarters and let them know what's going on?"
Sgt Brewster paused mid-chew, reaching out a greasy finger to the green dress and blonde wig, assessing their implications.
He glared at Maddie. "You bloody fool! You had no business going through the rooms without a search warrant!" he blustered, covering Maddie in a spray of crumbs and spit.
"But you told me to go and look for a photograph," Maddie reminded him. "This is what I found."
Sgt Brewster's eyes bulged. He almost choked on his sandwich. "Don't you get smart with me, girl! You get on to HQ and - and ask for a warrant - tell them we need back up." He glanced out of the window. "And tell them to bloody hurry up!"
He crammed the last of the sandwich into his mouth, his face turning a dull brick red as he uncovered the socks and heard Elsie snigger. "Go on girl, get moving!" he snapped. But the 'girl' had already got.
Maddie's lips curved in a faint smile as she picked up the phone in the next room. She was practising titles: Sergeant? Detective Inspector?
"Put me through to the Chief Superintendent - and hurry!" she demanded as soon as the phone was answered.
Chief Superintendent? Commissioner?
It would be a first for a woman - but why not? After all - it had been easy enough so far!

(c) Felicity Pulman, l999