The Dry (Aaron Falk #1)

“When was the last time you spoke to her?”

Dow shrugged. “Can’t remember.”

“What about the Monday before she died? Nineteenth of February. Or the following two days?”

“Seriously couldn’t tell you.” Dow shifted, and his seat creaked under his bulk. “Listen, do I have to be here? Legally? I’ve got shitloads to do.”

“We’ll cut to the chase, then,” Falk broke in. “Perhaps you could tell us why your name, Grant, was written by Karen Hadler on a receipt in the week she was murdered?” He slid a photocopy of the slip of paper across the table.

The only sound in the room was the hum of fluorescent lights as Dow stared at it for a long moment. Without warning he slammed his palm down on the table.

They both jumped.

“You are not pinning this on me.” Dow sent a fine mist of spittle across the tabletop.

“Pinning what on you, Grant?” Raco’s voice was determinedly neutral.

“That bloody family. If Luke goes and shoots up his wife and kid, that’s his business.” He pointed a thick finger at them both. “But that has got bugger all to do with me, you hear me?”

“Where were you the afternoon they were shot?” Falk asked.

Dow shook his head, his eyes never leaving Falk’s. His shirt collar was ripe with sweat. “Mate, you can get stuffed. You did enough damage with Ellie. You’re not going to take down me and my uncle as well. This is a witch hunt.”

Raco cleared his throat before Falk could answer.

“All right, Grant.” His voice was calm. “We’re just trying to get some answers. So let’s make it as easy as we can. You’ve told officers from Clyde you were ditch digging out along Eastway with your two workmates you’ve listed here. You stand by that?”

“Yeah. I was. All day.”

“And they’ll back that up, will they?”

“They’d better. Seeing as it’s the truth.” Dow managed to look them in the eyes as he said it. A fly droned in frantic circles around their heads as the silence stretched out.

“Tell me, Grant, what will you do with the farm when your uncle dies?” Falk said.

Dow looked confused at the change of subject. “Eh?”

“You’re all set to inherit, I heard.”

“So what? I’ve earned it,” he snapped.

“For what, letting your uncle live in his own property while he’s old and sick? That takes a big man.” Truthfully, Falk didn’t see any reason why Dow shouldn’t inherit, but the comment seemed to have hit a sore spot.

“Little bit more than that, smart-arse.” Dow opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. He closed it before speaking again. “Anyway, why not? I’m his family.”

“All that’s left of it since Ellie died, eh?” Falk plowed on as Dow sucked in a breath in outrage. “So you’ll sell the property when you can?”

“Too right I will. I’m not about to try to farm it, am I? I’m not a fool. Not when there’s all those Chinese jumping out of their little yellow skins to buy land out here. Even shit land like ours.”

“And like the Hadlers’?”

Dow paused. “I suppose.”

“Baby Charlotte’s probably even less keen to lug around bags of fertilizer than you. I hear it’ll come up for sale sooner or later. Two properties side by side.” Falk shrugged. “That’s a lot more attractive to overseas investors. Which is interesting in itself. But especially when the owner of one ended up shot in the head.”

For once Dow didn’t open his mouth to reply, and Falk knew he’d come to the same conclusion.

“Let’s get back to Karen.” Falk seized the advantage to change tack. “You ever try it on with her?”

“What?”

“Romantically? Sexually?”

Dow snorted. “Do me a favor. Right ice queen, that one. I wouldn’t waste me breath.”

“You think she’d have knocked you back,” Falk said. “That must have been annoying.”

“I get plenty, thanks, mate. Don’t you worry about me. The way you’re panting round town after Gretchen, you’ve got enough on your plate worrying about yourself.”

Falk ignored the comment. “Did Karen dent your ego? You argue with her about something? Things get a bit messy?”

“What? No.” Dow’s eyes flicked left and right.

“But you fell out with her husband. Frequently, from what we’ve heard,” Raco said.

“So what? That was always about nothing. Just Luke being a prick. It had bugger all to do with his missus.”

There was a pause. When Falk spoke again, his voice was quiet.

“Grant, we’re going to check your movements that day, and maybe your mates are going to back you up. The point is that some alibis are a bit like that plasterboard you work with. They hold up initially, but put them under pressure and they crumble pretty damn swiftly.”

Dow looked down for a moment. When he raised his head his attitude had shifted. He smiled. A calculating, full-bodied grin that hit his eyes.

“What, like your alibi, you mean? For why my cousin wrote your bloody name before she died?”

The silence stretched taut as three pairs of eyes looked at the photocopied receipt on the table. Falk had been far more shaken when his own name was discovered among Ellie’s possessions than Dow seemed about this. He was wondering what to make of that when Dow barked a laugh.

“Good thing my yarn is built of solid brick, isn’t it? You test it, mate. Be my guest. Don’t get me wrong, I had no time for the Hadlers. And yeah, I’ll be selling my uncle’s farm the first chance I get. But I didn’t kill them, I wasn’t at that farm, and if you want to put me there, you’re going to have to stitch me up. And you know what?” He banged the table with his fist. The sound was like a shot. “I’m not sure you’ve got the balls.”

“If you were there, Grant, we’ll prove it.”

He smirked. “See you bloody try.”





24


“You’re lucky we still have the footage. It usually gets deleted after a month.”

Scott Whitlam scrolled through the files on his computer until he found what he was looking for. The principal leaned back so Falk and Raco could see the screen. They were in his office, the sounds of the Monday afternoon school bustle drifting through the door.

“OK, here we are. This is the view from the camera at the main entrance,” Whitlam said. He clicked the mouse, and CCTV footage started to play on-screen. The camera appeared to be mounted above the large school doors, trained down on the steps to capture any approaching visitor. “Sorry, it’s not great quality.”

“No worries. It’s better than what we got from the Hadlers’ place,” Raco said.

“Cameras are only as much use as what they capture, anyway,” Falk said. “What else have you got here?”

Whitlam clicked again, and the view changed. “The other camera’s over the staff parking lot.” Again taken from a high vantage point, this footage showed a fuzzy row of cars.

“Those are the only two cameras in the school?” Raco asked.

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