Evil in Arcadia

Joanne

The two policemen sat in the front room with Jo after Dave and Nicole had finished giving their statements. 

‘So how long had you and Phil been married’ asked Thomson in a gentle tone.

She looked up, her eyes red and puffy. ‘Um, about eight years…’

‘About?’ said Shamon.

‘Take it easy mate,’ Thomson turned on his partner. 

Shamon gave him a curt nod and remained silent.

Jo grew stronger with the implied criticism. ‘We were married on December the 13th 2005. That makes it eight years I believe detective.’

Our statements from your neighbours indicate they found you in the room with your husband, is that correct?

She nodded quietly in response, her gaze lowered.

Shamon leaned forward again. He softened his tone and it brought a faintly foreign accent. ‘What it Jo short for please?’

‘Joanne,’ she answered.

‘Why were you wearing gloves Joanne? At the crime scene I mean.’

Her eyes darted from one policeman to the other. ‘I don’t know… it was such a mess. I had this wild urge to clean up. To clean it up… I don’t know, it sounds crazy doesn’t it?’

‘Not at all Joanne,’ Shamon said kindly. ‘You were in shock and that is perfectly understandable, perfectly natural.’

Thomson cleared his throat. ‘Now the thing is Jo—and you probably know this already—but people are supposed to keep the crime scene exactly as they find it. You wouldn’t want us to think you were the killer because your neighbours found you cleaning up evidence would you?

‘No—I wasn’t thinking that’s all.’

‘That’s okay — we understand, we see it all the time. Now speaking of keeping the crime scene untouched, I want you to have another look at the knife but I don’t want to move it until forensics are done with it. Would you follow us and have another look at it please?’ She nodded glumly. 

When they entered the room, both policeman stood in front Phil’s body which was now covered in a white sheet of material. The knife was surrounded by yellow petals and a forensics officer had placed a ruler next to it for the photographs.   The handle and hilt were intricately carved. Dry rust coloured stains covered the length of the curved blade.

Shamon squatted down near the weapon and looked closely. 

‘The design looks Islamic, like the knife of a Bedouin chieftain.’

The other two peered over the top.

‘Whatever you reckon mate, you’re the expert,’ said Thomson. To Jo he said: ‘Have you ever seen this knife before?’

‘No—never’

‘Take a good look. It’s not the last time someone will ask you that.’

She looked again and shook her head. ‘Definitely not Detective. I would remember a knife like that.’

Thomson nodded to Shamon. ‘Righto, let’s go back to the kitchen and grab a cuppa.

Thomson made tea while Jo and Detective Shamon sat together in silence. He let the awkwardness between them build. 

‘Did your husband have any enemies that you knew of?’ He asked, putting a steaming mug of hot, sweet tea down in front of her.

‘No—none. He was a beautiful, gentle man. I can’t think of why anyone would want to kill him.’ The tears flowed again.

Thomson hooked his head in the direction of the door and the two policemen stood up.

‘I’m going to ask Fiona—Constable McKenzie  to keep you company. Let her know if you remember something you would like to tell us. Goodnight Mrs Harper, you better try and get some rest. You might need it.

At the door Thomson beckoned the female constable over. ‘Keep an eye on her would you. I don’t want her doing anything silly, she’s the key witness in this thing… ‘ he looked over and met Shamon’s shrewd gaze, ‘… and possibly the key suspect as well. Don’t hesitate to call me at any stage if she says something or does something that could effect this case.’ 

‘No worries Kev,’ replied the constable ‘I’ve got your number.’

Thomson drove through the darkness, Shamon sat in the passenger seat, taciturn as usual.

‘Right, what have we got Benny boy—give it to me then.’

If Kev Thomson hadn’t been concentrating on the road he would have noticed the subtle glance Benyamin Shamon threw in his direction. 

Shamon puffed out his lips and pulled out his notebook. ‘Well, so far we have three main suspects, the first three people on the scene—Joanne Harper, the wife of the deceased and Nicole and David Pirozzi, the husband and wife from next door. There are also a couple of peripheral people I think we need to check out. I discovered from Fiona—Constable Mckenzie—that the Harpers’ employed a full time nurse to care for Mr Harper. Apparently his paraplegia was due to a degenerative disease and he was gradually losing control of all of his muscle function. This must have put a strain on Joanne, as she would have had to dress him, attend to him on the toilet and so on.

‘Quite a motive wouldn’t you say? Thomson cut in. ‘We should check out the insurance angle as soon as possible.’

‘True,’ acknowledged Shamon. ‘So it was the nurses night off last night, no one seems to know where she is at the moment but Joanne gave Constable Mckenzie a card with the details of the company she works for. 

‘Yep, good one, we’ll chase her up later today then. Anyone else? Did he have any money? Who inherits.’

‘Yes, that is interesting. Apparently Joanne does not inherit her husband’s estate. She told Mckenzie that the will was all in favour of the two children…’ he consulted his notes ‘Karli and Zane Harper, both from a former marriage. It sounds like that was part of a prenuptial agreement but Mckenzie wasn’t certain, obviously the woman was upset and the details may be fuzzy.

‘Did you notice the wife when Dave Pirozzi mentioned the thing with the text message and the cleaner?’

‘Yes, she silenced him with her eyes. I that is an aspect we will need to look into as well.

Back at their local headquarters in Hornsby Thomson yawned and rubbed his eyes as he opened his laptop up on the desk.

‘Did you get this email about the son?’ asked Shamon from his own desk.

Thomson leaned closer and squinted at his inbox.

‘Right’ he said after a couple of minutes. ‘Looks like this is our boy doesn’t it?

‘Yes,’ admitted Shamon cautiously. ’A known meth user with a history of violence and recent conflict with his father. He moves to the top of the list. No one seems to know where he is either.’

‘Yeah,’ Thomson yawned and tapped out a message on the keyboard. ‘Let’s go and have a poke around at his place. You got his address there?’

’Yes but we don’t have a… ‘

Thomson pulled him up by the arm as he walked past. ‘Come on mate we’re just going knock on the door, see who’s home, see what’s what.’

Shamon shrugged off the senior officer’s grip and stood up eye to eye. ’The uniforms have already been to his home, he is not there.’

‘Oh yeah? And how do they know that then?’

That threw Shamon off balance and he looked down at the notes he had just printed off. 

‘There were two flatmates at home apparently.’

‘Excellent, let’s go then.