Helen had just returned to her office with her partners when her communicator rang. Having been accepting the inevitable from the mystery caller, she jumped, causing Detective Sergeant Frank Hammon to eye her curiously. Helen felt her cheeks warm considerably and she flipped opened the communicator to answer, somewhat cautiously.

‘Templar’s dead,’ a familiar female voice replied once Helen had greeted her.

Part of her wanted to let out a sigh of relief at the voice of her long-time friend. The other part wanted her to cheer as loudly as she possibly at the elimination of the killer. Unfortunately, in the presence of Frank, she could do neither and hastily formulated a viable excuse to leave the office.

‘Hang on, I think the signal’s breaking,’ she lied and retreated out onto the balcony where privacy was ensured. ‘Are you sure about this, Charlotte?’

‘It was reported on Police TV and I doubt they’d stuff that one up,’ the reply came. ‘I thought you’d be pleased after the crap he put you through.’

‘Pleased wouldn’t begin to describe my feelings right now,’ Helen snorted with mixed emotions. ‘Does anyone else know the story behind it?’

Charlotte didn’t answer immediately and Helen began to fear the worst. She knew that there were certain colleagues back in Sydney who had very good memories when if came to the incident six years beforehand.

‘They’re starting to suspect Fiona,’ Charlotte responded sympathetically. ‘You know she was released two days ago. They’re saying it’s a revenge killing.’

Helen growled in frustration. Six years on from the incident and she still couldn’t do anything productive to help her only daughter. All because she had had one stupid drink after work that night. She hadn’t touched a drop since.

‘That’s a load of bullshit, Charlotte, and you know it!’ she snapped angrily. ‘She was never in the wrong to begin with!’

‘She’s carrying a lot of hate right now, Helen,’ her friend tried to sooth her. ‘You can’t really blame her.’

‘I just wish ... I could do something!’

‘Give it time,’ Charlotte advised. ‘I’m sure she’ll come round eventually.’

‘Time is something I don’t have,’ Helen blurted out then realised she should never have said anything at all.

‘Why? What’s happened?’ was the concerned response.

Helen bit her lip. Could she risk telling her best friend? She was still debating on what to tell her when she heard voices in the background.

‘Helen, I’ve gotta go. I’ll keep you posted.’

With that, she hung up rather hastily, not that Helen was all that concerned. She had her own problems to worry about. She let out a breath of annoyance, blowing her overgrown fringe from her face. Why hadn’t she told Charlotte about the blackmail threat? Did it have anything to do with Templar’s death? The fact that she had received the mystery call the day Templar’s body was found skyrocketed her suspicions but there was very little she could do. Blackmail was blackmail. If keeping the call to herself was part of the blackmail, then telling Charlotte about it would not only let the whole secret out but quite possibly put Charlotte’s life at risk. It was best to keep the information to herself - for now.

 

Janet sat in front of her computer screen, staring absentmindedly at the floating screensaver. Her concentration had long departed as she mused about her sister’s professional connections to the international drug baroness the Federal Police had identified as Milosevic. Did Ally really know what she was getting herself into? What would happen if these people turned out to be more violent than the kind Ally was used to dealing with? An avalanche of unanswered questions piled up in her mind, causing her to feel a little more cautious about her younger sister’s welfare than she normally would. In fact, she was so intense in her thoughts that she didn’t even hear Helen’s arrival into her private office and her proceeding transit to observe at her work from behind. Helen frowned when she saw the floating South Australian Police emblem but her frown slowly reverted to a small smile.

‘Nice graphics,’ the inspector commented, causing Janet to jump a metre high. ‘What report are you typing? ‘Flying the police emblem’?’

Janet’s heart rate elevated to that comparative of a submachine gun as she blinked and looked up at Helen over her shoulder. She mentally scolded herself for being caught daydreaming but eventually reminded herself that it had at least only been Helen and not the station’s commanding officer, Chief Inspector Reg Maken. She gave a subtle sigh of relief and placed her hand on the mouse in a slight manoeuvre, causing the screensaver to blink off and revealing her somewhat empty word document.

‘Oh, very funny,’ she replied, her ears burning in embarrassment. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Well, good morning to you too, Janet,’ Helen greeted cheerfully. ‘Nice to see you so hard at work.’

Helen was glad to finally have some form of distraction from the day’s earlier events. Given the seriousness of the call, it still weighted heavily on the back of her mind but she couldn’t let it affect her current work situation. Frank could be cluey at times and she didn’t need him sticking his nose into things to make it worst. She studied the intelligence officer for a minute. She rarely saw Janet daydreaming, especially this early in the morning. She refused to believe that, at nine-thirty, the intelligence officer would have already lost her motivation to work. Janet just glared over her shoulder and was greeted with two twinkling green eyes and a smile so wide that the tips of Helen’s lips nearly touched her ear lobes. Helen produced a small piece of paper and handed it to the younger woman.

‘Jansen and O’Brien. See what you can dig out on them for us,’ she requested. ‘After Harvey’s conviction, Frank’s been gearing up to nail anyone else who might be potential replacements.’

‘That’s a bit of a long shot, isn’t it?’ Janet queried with raised eyebrows. ‘I mean, what evidence do you have to suggest they may be potential suspects? And don’t tell me you’re going by Frank’s gut instincts.’

Helen grabbed a spare computer chair and wheeled it around to Janet’s side of the desk before folding her long frame into it.

‘I wouldn’t go by his gut instincts even if he pay me to do it,’ she snorted. ‘Believe it or not, these guys used to work under Poulos.’

‘Kip Poulos? Didn’t he get convicted with Harvey for perverting the course of justice?’

‘I’m glad you’re still mentally focused,’ Helen teased with a grin. ‘Yeah, his club is now under new management. We’re just not sure how much they were involved in the last case.’

Janet sighed. She wasn’t the type of person who enjoyed chasing ghosts. In fact, she couldn’t see what all this had to do with the detectives’ current case. They were investigating a suspicious suicide and so far there had been no evidence that drugs were involved in any way. She leaned back in her chair.

‘Oh, c’mon, Helen. You know I can’t search someone on COPS just because you think they might be connected to a previous case. I need a legitimate reason to go into their criminal records,’ she told her friend, her hands resting on the chair’s armrests. ‘If I just went into COPS every time you asked me to, Reg’ll have my head!’

‘Okay, how’s this sound - the victim is connected to these guys?’ Helen bargained.

‘And are they?’

Helen was silent for a minute.

‘Did Frank tell you to use your natural charm on me?’ Janet asked knowingly, then continued when she noticed her guilty smile. ‘Helen! I can’t believe you even thought about it! Tell Frank that if he -’

She was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Frank himself. He was holding a thin pile of stapled papers in his left hand.

‘Tell me what?’ he ventured to ask, unaware that he had just walked into the lion’s den.

‘I told you she wasn’t going to fall for it,’ Helen informed her junior partner, grimly.

Frank just smiled like a cat who had just lapped clean a bowl of milk then handed Helen the pile of paper who flipped through it with interest.

‘She won’t need to. It’s all in there. The autopsy confirmed that young Ms Sander had E in her body,’ he replied, smugly.

‘That still doesn’t prove that Jansen and O’Brien had anything to do with it,’ Janet protested.

‘It does if she was last seen at the club they work at. We’re going to have to question all the current employees. My bet is that Jansen and O’Brien have a long history of dealing.’

Janet just stared at her in utter disbelief. How on earth could Frank’s gut instinct be so right? She had enough trouble trying to deal with it constantly happening with Ally.

‘Please tell me you’re kidding,’ she breathed.

‘When can we expect the criminal records printout?’ Helen asked with a grin.

‘As soon as possible,’ Janet sighed. ‘By the way, the DPP called, Frank. They want to see you about your court appearance.’

‘Sure thing,’ Frank nodded, looking at his watch. ‘Just as soon as I finish this case.’

‘No, now Frank,’ was the stern warning from the intelligence officer. ‘You know how crabby the DPP can be when they’re left waiting.’

Frank grumbled, muttered a few obscenities and reluctantly lumbered out of the office. Both Helen and Janet shook their heads smiling, knowing how much he hated being told regarding punctuality. Janet tapped into the computer’s criminal information program and printed out the relevant information before handing it to Helen. Helen took the liberty of reading the printout. She gave an impressive whistle.

‘Wow! Frank must be incredibly psychic this morning!’

‘Why do you say that?’ Janet frowned curiously.

‘Jansen and O’Brien have a dealing history that’s longer than the SydneyHarbourBridge.’

‘He probably knew all about it already,’ was the snorting reply. ‘I’m just glad he didn’t put a price on that bet of his.’

Helen wasn’t really listening. She paused to reflect for a minute.

‘Actually, it’s Ken’s PDO. How would you like to sit in on the case? I could do with an extra pair of ears.’

 

It was good to finally spend some quality time with my older sister. After nearly a hectic week of work, we very rarely saw each other and so we decided to spend the night in the city. It was a Friday which was perfect since it was also traditionally a late-night shopping day. That meant shops that were usually opened until five-thirty in the evening were extended to nine at night. Not that it made too much difference to our final destination which we decided would be the heart of Hindley Street. It was nearly seven o’clock when Janet and I met in Rundle Mall. Steve had a work dinner to attend so it was just the two of us. After some debate, my sister and I settled to have dinner at a cafe on the main street before deciding to check out the nightclub scene. We both chose a table away from the general hustle and bustle of the patronic traffic and ordered our meals. Janet was looking a little worse for wear, her hair slightly ruffled.

‘You alright?’ I asked in concern. ‘You look like you need a holiday.’

Janet chuckled slightly and leaned back in her chair.

 ‘I’ve just had a long day,’ she sighed. ‘We seem to be running into dead end after dead end with this apparent suicide.’

‘Apparent?’ I frowned. ‘You think there’s more?’

Janet just looked at me. I suddenly realised that I wasn’t really supposed to be asking all these questions. It was a police investigation and, being a private investigator, I had no authority to be informed of its proceedings. I felt my cheeks warm considerably.

‘Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be asking,’ I replied as the waiter brought our meals to the table.

She was looking past my shoulder and appeared to be lost in a trance. Frowning, I turned around and followed her visual stare. Unfortunately, I couldn’t recognise anyone of significance and turned back to face my sister.

‘You okay?’ I asked.

Janet blinked and blushed a little.

‘Huh? Oh, sorry. I just thought I recognised someone,’ she apologised but I could tell she was still unnerved by the unknown presence of her mysterious associates.

She began digging into her meal but kept looking up over my shoulder from time to time as if she was expecting something to happen. I decided to let it slide for a few minutes, hoping she would confide in me regarding the matter but when she didn’t say anything for nearly five minutes, I decided to confront her about it.

‘Look, Jan. Call me nosy here but you don’t usually sit in front of me during a meal and not say anything for five minutes. What the hell’s going on?’ I asked in a more than curious tone.

Janet looked up at me for a few seconds. She didn’t say anything at first but eventually gave a sigh in resignation.

‘Okay. See those men at the door over there?’ she replied, nodded in the general direction of the cafe’s entrance.

I turned around once again but still couldn’t see anyone of significance. In fact, I noticed several men at the doorway. Still, I took in what I could of the surroundings and returned my attention to my sister. I didn’t want to appear to look like a fool turning around every time Janet tried to point someone out to be me.

‘Yeah, about five of them,’ I retorted, getting a bit fed up with being led on a wild goose chase.

‘No, I meant the two with the black tops. The beefy-looking blokes.’

‘Oh, them. What about them?’

‘I don’t know if it’s just me but they’ve been there since we have been sitting here,’ Janet told me.

‘They’re probably having a meal like we are,’ I informed her dryly. ‘Seriously, Jan. I think you’re starting to get paranoid.’

Janet just glared at me.

‘Then explain to me how I know their names are Jansen and O’Brien,’ she challenged.

‘I dunno! You tell me.’

‘Look, they are the main suspects in the case we’re investigating.’

I raised my eyebrows slightly - not because I was surprised that there was a connection between these two blokes and the state police but because Janet was now telling me things I wasn’t even supposed to know. Janet studied me for a minute or two before she finally spoke.

‘I’m only telling you this because they aren’t the most pleasant people to be associated with,’ she explained. ‘I just want you to be on your guard.’

I just nodded. It wasn’t something I wanted to be overly involved in. I had my own problems with the Feds to deal with and I didn’t want anything - or anyone - clogging up my strategies. Instead, I decided to change the subject.

‘So, where do you want to go after this?’