Sharp Edge Page 4

  ‘Tara Sharp.’

  ‘Constable Cabbage,’ I said, unable to help myself.

  He frowned and gestured to his right, past a man-made rock wall that had been put there to fight sand erosion. ‘Step into my office.’

  ‘Why over there?’ Nick growled at him.

  ‘Mr Tozzi. I believe we’ve met before. From your previous experience being interviewed, you should know that we prefer to speak to witnesses individually.’

  Nick got up. He towered over Cravich and made no attempt not to. ‘I want to be able to see her.’

  The policeman stiffened. ‘Are you attempting to obstruct an officer of the law, sir?’

  ‘I want to see her when you’re talking to her,’ said Nick impassively.

  Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t said anything about the strip search. This was going to blow up into something ugly. Tozzi’s voice had an edge to it that I didn’t like.

  ‘Everything alright here. Constable?’ asked a voice from behind us.

  Fiona Bligh had approached silently from along the beach. She was in jeans and a windcheater, a cap on her head. Off duty, but cool as a cucumber.

  ‘Just about to question the witnesses.’

  ‘Right,’ said Bligh. ‘I’ll take Sharp, you take her friend.’

  Cravich glowered but nodded.

  Bligh grabbed my arm and frog-marched me along the beach out of earshot.

  ‘What the hell is this?’ she said with heat.

  I freed my arm and put my hand on my hip. ‘This is Nick and I having a private conversation on a public beach and having a body wash up by our feet.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘What do you think? I murdered the guy and then waited until he blew up like a whale before incriminating myself by calling it in?’

  Bligh breathed in sharply. ‘Don’t get smart.’

  I ran my hand through my hair. ‘Honestly, Fiona. This is horrible and I have no idea who the body is. Nick and I were down here sorting out some personal issues.’

  ‘He’s married isn’t he?’

  I shrugged. She could talk to Tozzi about his marital status.

  ‘I’ll take that as a “no comment”,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks for rescuing me from Cravich and Blake. Those two…’ I trailed off, not able to say what I really thought.

  Bligh sighed and got a notebook out of her pocket. ‘You’re a trouble magnet, Sharp. OK. Let’s take it from the start. What time did you arrive and when did you first notice the body…?’

  * * *

  We went over my recount for about twenty minutes. I could see Cravich going through the same process with Nick.

  By the time Bligh had decided she was satisfied, a white van and an unmarked car had pulled up next to the patrol car.

  ‘Detectives are here. You’ll need to hang around a bit longer,’ said Bligh.

  We re-joined the others then Bligh, Cravich and Blake went to confer over the body waiting for the cavalry, leaving Nick and me alone for a moment.

  He pressed his giant warm hand into the centre of my back. ‘You OK’

  ‘No. You?’

  ‘Not really.’

  The detectives had arrived and were heading towards us, waving their torches around like searchlights.

  Minutes later we were separated and questioned again, and by the time they said we could go home, it was close to midnight.

  We trudged up to the motorbike, which was now surrounded by cop cars and a forensics wagon. Tozzi handed me the spare helmet without a word and we sped back to Garth’s office.

  Mona sat forlornly outside under a streetlight. I got off and watched while he strapped the helmet to the back. He gave me a curt wave and was gone.

  So much for clearing the air between us.

  I should have gone home, but Ed lived only a few streets away and my hands were shaking with delayed shock. Autopilot took me over the bridge and down a right hander, braking to a stop outside a set of villas.

  Refusing to overthink it, I grabbed my bag, got out and buzzed his intercom.

  It took a while but he eventually answered.

  ‘It’s Tara,’ I said simply. ‘I need to come in.’

  He released the front door and I took the stairs two at a time, suddenly gripped by a desire to get inside somewhere safe with someone safe.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked as I bowled past him.

  ‘I need a wash,’ I said. ‘I’ll explain after.’

  He nodded sleepily. ‘Spare towel behind the door. I’ll be in bed.’

  My state of mind was so scattered that I barely noticed how he only wore boxers and tousled hair. ‘Thanks.’

  He moved to kiss me on the head but I stepped back.

  ‘I’m wearing eau de dead guy. Not until I’ve showered.’

  The sleepy look left his face almost instantly. His lips parted in surprise and concern and a crease appeared on his forehead.

  I ducked away from him and into the shower where I blasted myself with water as hot as I could stand and lathered the soap like it was bubble bath. I also contemplated that the only person who ever put a frown on Ed’s face was me.

  Towelling off hard, I returned to the bedroom.

  There was nothing terribly fancy about his apartment though it was clean for a young guy—cleaner than mine—and pretty orderly. He had a couple of rubber plants in pots by the window and a Lyn Hammond acrylic hanging on the wall above his bed. She was his favourite artist and was fast becoming mine.

  He’d spent his first big pay cheque on the painting and had it shipped in from Sydney. It was an impressionistic sunset over low hills, all in dark blues and oranges. Moody and deep. We’d spent over an hour just staring at it before he’d got out the hammer and drill to hang it.

  Ed was propped up in bed right now, a delicious foreground to the strong Hammond colours and brush strokes above. Though the artist tended towards landscapes, I bet she’d paint Edouardo in a flash.

  ‘Tara?’ The frown was there making him look older than his twenty years. I wanted to smooth it away.

  ‘Better,’ I said. ‘And planning on being shiny.’

  The frown disappeared as he cocked an eyebrow. ‘How so?’

  I dropped the towel and walked slowly to the bed. He lay there watching me, not moving as I lay full length alongside him.

  He let me peel the sheet back and run my fingertips from his thigh to his chest. ‘Am I allowed to participate in getting shiny?’ he said with a slight breathlessness.

  Tears welled and were stinging the back of my nose looking for release but I refused to let them fall. I lowered my head, so that I could run my tongue along his ribcage and my fingers drifted down between his thighs.

  The combination of actions had an electric effect on Ed and I suddenly found myself underneath him, our faces level. Dark eyes stared at me with intensity.

  ‘After this … you will tell me what happened tonight,’ said Edouardo.

  ‘I will.’

  Satisfied, he lowered his weight on me and I felt his anticipation against my stomach. With his first caress of my breast, I closed my eyes and forgot everything.

  * * *

  We dozed for a few hours afterwards but Ed wasn’t letting me off. He woke me around six am with a strong cup of tea and some toast and jam.

  I tried burrowing under the sheets but he stripped them from my clenched fists, sat the plate of toast on my bare rump and the tea on the bedside table.

  ‘I’ve got an early call. Be out of the shower in a few minutes.’

  I slid my hand around to retrieve the food, pulled the sheet back up and plumped the pillows behind me. My clothes lay at all parts of the compass and a bottle of lubricant lolled on its side, dribbling stickiness onto the carpet. We’d used that, I recalled, in my last attempt of the night to out-sex Ed. My plan had failed because he was looking bright and beautiful this morning while I resembled something Fridge had dug up in Smitty’s back yard.

&
nbsp; Just then he came out dressed in a spectacularly well-cut suit. Pale mauve shirt and matching tie. His aura was a glowing aquamarine with rosy hues at the edge, except when he was tired. Then it turned to a soft azure. Right now, it was practically sparkling aqua.

  ‘That was an epic night,’ he said.

  ‘How do you do that?’ I demanded grumpily.

  ‘What?’ he asked leaning over to peck me on the lips.

  ‘Look like Matt Bomer after no sleep?’

  He blushed, which made me feel bad and also kinda turned on. Ed was still the sweetest guy. The industry hadn’t jaded him yet. How long, I wondered, before it did?

  ‘What’s the job anyway?’ I asked changing the subject.

  ‘That swimwear spread I did for Martin got some attention. I got another gig from it.’

  ‘With Bok?’

  ‘No, with Armani.’

  ‘You mean an Armani house shoot?’

  The blush again. ‘They wanted beautiful beaches. And we do have the best in the world. A bunch of them flew in from New York and Rome yesterday.’

  ‘Which label?’ I said it to be conversational. In truth, I knew there was a bunch of Armani labels but had no clue of the difference between them.

  ‘Prive,’ he said.

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘Yeah. Very cool. Now,’ he said. ‘Your turn.’

  ‘Oh … that was…’

  ‘Tara!’ He cut me off before I could start mentally editing. I’d promised Ed I’d share a bit more and stop trying to protect him from my job. In his words, stop treating me like a kid. So I took a deep breath.

  ‘I was talking to a friend down on one of the South Cott beaches last night. We were standing near the water and a … body washed up.’

  ‘What … like a…’

  ‘Dead body. Yeah. Just banged into my leg.’

  ‘Shit. That’s heavy. I hope you didn’t … know the deceased?’

  ‘No. He wore a suit. Looked like … any guy really.’ The tears I’d fought back last night snuck up and ambushed me. I began to sniff. ‘I-I tried to pull him out of the water and his a-arms came off.’

  Ed stiffened. ‘Like right … off?’

  ‘Yeah. Someone must have hacked at them. His jacket sleeves were holding them in place.’

  ‘Both arms?’

  I lifted my head up and gave him a tear-blurred, wobbly nod.

  He bit his lip and pulled me close again. ‘Sweetie, no wonder you’ve been in shock. You should take it easy today. Stay in bed. I’ll be back about three.’

  As tempting as it sounded, I had to check on Garth, and Hoshi Hara, my mentor, was expecting a visit. I’m fine,’ I said brushing the tears away. ‘Just needed to think about something else last night.’

  ‘Did you … we do that?’ he asked tentatively.

  I kissed him on the cheek and the chin and the ear. ‘We sure did.’

  He leaned into me like a puppy nuzzling his owner. ‘I’ll call you when I’m through.’

  He got up, straightened his suit coat and grabbed his wallet and keys from the dresser. With a quick blown kiss, he was gone.

  6

  Garth was at the back of the office sorting through an upturned cabinet when I arrived. He looked up and smiled when I knocked on the door jamb.

  ‘Glad you’re here. There’s someone I want you to meet.’ He got up. ‘Jasmine!’

  A figure appeared from the back room. Jasmine was thin, dressed in a loose but expensive shift, hair upswept and wearing immaculate make-up. She reminded me of a younger version of my Aunt Lavilla, without the daring glint in her eyes. In fact, she looked pale underneath her foundation and her eyes were swollen as if she’d been crying. Her aura was a sea of wild pale blue wisps, bleeding at the tips.

  I walked through the mess and held out my hand. ‘Hi, I’m Tara.’

  Her return handshake was lukewarm and a bit limp. I didn’t put too much stock in that because of what was happening in her life.

  ‘Can I take you two to coffee so we can talk?’ said Garth.

  Garth shouting me coffee? Could that be? ‘Cake as well?’

  He pursed his lips and nodded.

  ‘Great!’ I said. ‘Let’s go!’

  We walked across the little railway bridge, past the supermarket, butcher, and militaria antiques shop to the Book Café. I went with Garth to the counter to pick out my cake while Jasmine reclined with distracted elegance at a table by the window.

  Garth nudged me. ‘Beautiful, huh?’

  I was eyeing the plum and cinnamon cake, and couldn’t help but agree with him. ‘Delicious, I’m betting.’

  The nudge turned into a jab. ‘I mean Jasmine.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said feeling faintly disappointed. Plum cake appealed to me much more than she did. ‘S-sure, Garth.’

  He made his disapproving noise and gave his disapproving stare. ‘I don’t need you to appreciate her. I just need you to talk her into getting out of this partnership.’

  I glanced up and narrowed my eyes. ‘That’s why you’re taking us to coffee?’

  His face fell in on itself like he might cry; only, Garth would never blub in public. ‘She won’t listen to me—’ He broke off while we ordered and waited for the counter guy to move away again. ‘I’m scared for her, T. After last night, I’m scared for me too,’ he finished in a whisper.

  ‘How the fuck do you think involving me will make things any better? You have any idea what’s been going on in my life the last few months.’ I took him by the arm and pulled him in close, so that my lips were right to his ear. Dimly, I was aware that Jasmine watched us with pursed lips, but I didn’t care. ‘You know that Viaspa put a hit on me not long ago. The guy he paid is in jail now, but for all I know the contract still stands.’

  I felt him tremble. ‘You mean…’

  ‘Yeah, I mean, that standing too close to me might get you shot!’

  ‘You should go to the police.’

  I gave him a look. ‘Don’t preach to me about what I should do if you want my help.’

  He licked his lip and swallowed. ‘OK.’

  Okay? He must be shaken up. Garth never gave up on anything without an argument.

  ‘You’re … are you … safe?’ he asked.

  I shrugged. ‘No. Maybe. I honestly don’t know. But I’m not going to spend my waking moments obsessing about it. I’ll talk to her, but then I’m out Garth. OK? It’s up to her.’

  He nodded. ‘Thanks.’

  The guy returned with our order and we carried it over to the window table. Jasmine took a sip of her skinny flat white while I gulped my latte. Garth stared unhappily into his short black.

  I allowed myself a large mouthful of the cake—plum is so divine—before I broke the silence. ‘I’m not one for beating around the bush, Jasmine. Garth tells me you’re in a business partnership with John Viaspa’s sister?’

  She froze, coffee cup halfway to its saucer. Permitting herself a quick irritated look at Garth, she placed it down without spilling a drop. ‘I’m sorry?’

  I took another couple of bites of plum heaven. Her frayed aura told me she was stressed, and I knew I should be more patient than I wanted to be. ‘This break-in at Garth’s office is no accident. He told me that you and he found some discrepancies in the bookkeeping at your work. Next thing his office is trashed. I don’t know John Viaspa’s sister, but I know him. This is just his style. And it’s a warning. Believe me, if he thinks you’re putting him or his empire at risk, there are no safe rocks to crawl under.’ I thought about what had just transpired in Brisbane—the whole US gang thing—and added, ‘Anywhere.’

  It was a long speech for someone who’d rather be anywhere else but having to mention the name of the devil out loud.

  ‘But Grazia—my partner—is not like that,’ she said in a quick, clipped tone.

  I gave her my flattest most pragmatic stare. ‘Then who exactly is she laundering money for? Her butcher?’

  ‘I… I…’

 
; ‘Jazzy please. Tara knows these sorts of low-lifes and what they can do. You have to get out.’

  Well thanks for that Garth!

  She looked from me to him then her mouth twisted in misery. Garth was right, she was very attractive; funnily enough, much more so when she had a real expression on her face, not her practised haughty fake thing.

  ‘I can’t. We’ve got the summer collection arriving this week and a huge fashion parade to put on at the Hilton. Even if I wanted to, I can’t walk away right now. Not until after Christmas at least.’

  I sucked on the cake fork. ‘So, if you go to the cops with this, all your assets will be frozen while they investigate.’

  She nodded. ‘My reputation as well and everything I’ve worked for. If the media gets hold of it, I’ll never live down the stench.’

  ‘But they’re laundering money.’ Garth said it softly so that no one else could hear but each word was a like a soft punch.

  Tears glinted in her eyes. ‘I wish you’d never found it.’

  Garth’s wounded look made him look so vulnerable that I felt like I’d just seen his bare butt.

  Right about then I had an idea on how to get them both to leave me out of it. ‘There might be another way.’

  Two sets of anxious, hopeful eyes fixed on me.

  I took a deep, deep breath. Garth was super-straight, so he’d never go for this. He’d say no then I’d be in the clear. ‘Before I go on, you have to understand that nothing about this will be lawful, and therefore I can’t take any ownership of the outcomes.’

  Garth flinched and Jasmine blinked like a big ol’ owl.

  ‘Tell us?’ she whispered.

  ‘Maybe I can find something you can use? Something which will make your partner agree to letting you go with minimum fuss, and keep your pocket and reputation intact.’

  ‘You mean blackmail?’

  ‘Leverage,’ I said firmly. ‘There’s a difference.’

  ‘Stop right now Tara,’ interjected Garth. ‘I won’t have talk like this. You’re compromising us.’

  I grinned inside and ate the last mouthful of plum yum. ‘Fair enough. But I don’t think I can help you then.’

  Garth nodded primly and clinked his teaspoon against the sides of the cup as he stirred in more sugar.