‘I never. And I wouldn’t know what Joll was thinking.’
‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘No.’
‘You stole the mobile phone and called Craig Oliver at the pub to come and collect you, isn’t that right?’
‘No. He was there with us when we found it.’
‘What vehicle were you in?’
‘Er, Joll’s ute.’
‘You’re not certain?’
‘That’s right, it was definitely Joll’s ute.’
‘Was it you who threw the car phone into the flames after you called Mr Oliver to collect you?’
‘I told you, he was there all the time.’
‘Explain the cans, the bottles, the cigarette packets we found at the scene, covered in your prints.’
Danny uttered a bizarre, high-pitched laugh. ‘We had a bit of a party.’
‘It gave you a particular thrill, standing around, watching something burn?’
Danny said sourly, ‘I’m not like that.’
‘What are you like, Dan?’ Ellen said.
He twisted around to look at her. ‘It was unexpected, seeing a car burning. You know.’
‘Did you see who lit the fire?’
‘Didn’t see no-one.’
‘Did you light it, or did Boyd Jolic light it?’
‘I told you, we-’
Ellen leaned into his ear again and said, ‘What if I told you that we have a witness who saw a scrawny little man-namely you-and a larger man-namely Jolic-driving the Pajero a short time after an aggravated burglary was committed at a horse stud near the racecourse. This witness did something to piss you off and so you followed the witness to a house in Quarterhorse Lane.’
‘She’s lying.’
Challis said quietly, ‘Who said it was a woman, Danny?’
‘Er, I mean, Sergeant Destry did.’
‘No I didn’t.’
Challis took over. ‘You followed this witness to a house in Quarterhorse Lane. Later you went back to this house, broke in, killed the occupant, and set a fire to cover your tracks.’
‘Because that’s the sort of scum you are, Danny,’ Ellen said. ‘Someone accidentally causes you a minor upset in traffic, and it’s such an insult to your feeble manhood that murder is the only revenge.’
‘No. I swear.’
‘What did you hit Clara Macris with?’
‘I never hit her.’
‘Jolic did?’
‘No. I don’t know.’
‘You mean, he went there alone to do it?’
‘I never killed nobody.’
‘Funny, why should people say you did?’
‘Who?’
’Do you want your lawyer, Danny?’
‘That cow. She puts me down all the time.’
’So you agree to being further questioned without legal representation?’
’I’m not saying another word. I told you all I know.’
Challis pushed back in his chair. ‘All right, Danny, that will be all for now.’
‘I can go home?’
‘You must be joking.’
Craig Oliver gave them the same story.
That left Boyd Jolic, and when Ellen Destry realised that Jolic had Marion Nunn in the interview room with him, she took Challis aside. ‘Boss, I’m sorry I didn’t mention this before, the Macris business got in the way, but Nunn could be the brains behind the ag burgs we’ve been having.’ She went on to tell him about Pam Murphy and the photographs.
Challis grinned when she’d finished. ‘Even if there’s nothing to it, knowing there’s a suspicion is going to make this interview all the more interesting.’
They went in, turned on the tape, cautioned Jolic, and started the questioning. The story Jolic gave them was essentially the same as Danny Holsinger’s and Craig Oliver’s. They’d been to the pub, drinking until late. When they left, Jolic said, they’d driven along Chicory Kiln Road to avoid being breathalysed. He grinned: ‘Too late, you can’t arrest me now.’ Then they came upon the Pajero. It was already burning fiercely. Such a sight in the middle of the night and the middle of nowhere, naturally you’re going to want to stop and watch it, down a few coldies by the side of the road, smoke a few fags. That’s all, end of story.
‘You’re a CFA volunteer. Weren’t you concerned there’d be a bushfire?’
‘Nah. Wasn’t much of a blaze.’
‘Enough for a passing motorist to stop and extinguish it.’
Jolic shrugged.
‘Why didn’t you report the fire?’
‘Mate, we were pissed as farts, I got a record, who’s going to believe we didn’t do it?’
Marion Nunn stirred. ‘If you have no further questions for my client, may I-’
‘No,’ said Challis, ‘you may not. Mr Jolic, earlier in the day you were seen driving the Pajero on Coolart Road.’
‘That’s a lie.’
‘As a result of an incident at an intersection, you tailgated another car, following it all the way to an address in Quarterhorse Lane.’
‘Nope.’
‘Later you went back to that same address, attacked and killed the occupant, and set fire to the house.’
‘Nope.’
‘Inspector, really, I hope you can substantiate these claims.’
‘We have a description of the vehicle, the driver and the passenger, and we have the licence plate.’
‘I’m entitled to know who your witness is.’
‘We’d like our witness to live long enough to make it to trial, Mrs Nunn, so for the moment I don’t intend to-’
‘I resent the implication of that remark. I have never-’
Ellen cut her off. ‘Get off on lighting fires, do you, Boyd?’
‘I really must protest. If you have any solid evidence, then charge my client. If not, I’m asking you to release him.’
‘We have a few more hours up our sleeves before we’re obliged to do that,’ Challis said. ‘We’re about to search Mr Jolic’s house. Would you care to be present?’
Marion Nunn looked at Jolic. Challis saw a curiously private expression pass across her face. She turned back and said, ‘That won’t be necessary. I should like to be alone with my client, and I insist on being present when and if he’s questioned again.’
‘Wouldn’t have it any other way, Marion.’
When they were in the corridor, Challis said, ‘There’s something going on there. Did you see the look she gave him?’
‘She’s such a pain in the bum, I’d love to put her away.’
‘Why would she send Jolic into an occupied house?’
‘They didn’t know it was occupied. The owners came back early from holidays.’
‘And instead of turning around and driving away, Jolic went in and things snowballed from there. She must be panicking.’
‘Meanwhile,’ Ellen said, ‘if we don’t find some better evidence soon, we’ll have to let Jolic and company go.’
It came to Challis then. ‘Pam Murphy told me she met an insurance investigator poking around where the Pajero was torched. I’ll see if I can track him down. He might have some evidence that we missed.’
They returned to the Displan room. Challis called Ledwich first, Ledwich saying, ‘What have I done now?’
‘I need the name of your insurance company, Mr Ledwich.’
‘They’re not forking out, the bastards.’
‘Whose fault is that? The name, please.’
Ledwich gave it. Challis called the twenty-four-hour number and used his tone and rank to get an after-hours number for the investigator. ‘A detective will be around to look at the evidence later today.’
On the other side of the room, a call was being put through for Ellen Destry. There was a crackle on the line. ‘My name is Goodall. I’m calling from New Zealand, police headquarters in Christchurch. I understand that you’re investigating the murder of a woman called Clara Macris.’
‘That’s right. We-’
‘Clara Macris is her assumed name. Her real name doesn’t matter. The point is, she was in our Witness Protection program.’
Ellen slumped in her chair. ‘Witness protection.’
‘I was her case officer. I helped to relocate her.’
‘You think someone over there found out where she was?’
‘It’s possible. I don’t know how, but it’s possible.’