Skye looked hurt. ‘I’ve seen how they do it on CSI; I used sterile forceps from my medical kit and the paper bag was clean. I didn’t give it to Sergeant Dickhead because I found it just after he’d finished screwing me over and told me to get lost, and I sure wasn’t going to go putting any feathers in his cap. Bugger him; he should have found it himself.’

Stevie tried to stay calm, wishing she had something stronger than orange juice on the table in front of her. ‘Okay, so what’s in the bag?’

Skye made as if to reach into it.

‘No, don’t touch it,’ Stevie warned. ‘Just open the bag up and show me the contents.’

Skye opened it so Stevie could peer inside.

‘It’s a button,’ Skye responded, oblivious to Stevie’s horrified look. ‘Silk-covered—very unusual and very pretty; I found it just outside the Pavels’ front gate the day after we discovered the baby. It has a small piece of pale green material still attached, as if it was snagged on something, the gate maybe, and ripped off. ’

Stevie pressed her hands to her eyes, feeling the onset of a headache. It was the same button she’d pointed out to the crime scene tech and he obviously hadn’t bothered to do anything about it.

‘Shit, Skye, what the hell did you think you were doing?’

Skye’s unprofessional handling of the button, the lack of a photograph and no other documentation to prove where it was found meant that it could never be used as evidence—but evidence of what? Stevie had no idea how seriously the local police were taking the possibility of foul play behind the disappearance of the Pavels. The newspaper reports suggested they were pursuing the original accident theory, though she knew this could easily be a blind to lull any possible offenders into a false sense of security—if only she knew the angle Fowler was working this.

There was only one thing she could do. She took the paper ‘evidence’ bag from Skye and put it in her briefcase. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to show this to Fowler.’

‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Skye pulled a face and turned her head away.

‘You said there were two things I needed to know. What’s the second?’

For a moment Stevie thought Skye might refuse to tell her, but after shooting her a petulant look, continued. ‘One of my mates works on the same ward as the baby and knows all the medical tests the poor little bugger’s had.’ Skye licked dry, guilty lips. ‘And all the results.’

‘Go on.’

‘You know how no one had seen the Pavels for four days before we found the baby?’

Stevie nodded.

‘Well, didn’t you think it was amazing that the kid was still alive?’

‘It did cross my mind, but just because the parents hadn’t been seen for four days, doesn’t mean they’d been missing that long. One of them could have been hiding in the house for at least some of that time. Plus the baby was confined to the cot, couldn’t expend much energy, the weather was mild...’

‘Quite. Medical tests showed he’d only been deprived of food and fluid for two days max. But who was it who fed him and why did they stop? Stevie, can’t you see? We have to find out what the hell’s going on here.’ (Image 6.1)

Image 6.1

THURSDAY

CHAPTER SEVEN

Stevie needed time to prepare for the confrontation with Luke Fowler and it wasn’t until the next evening that she’d managed to arm herself with some relevant facts. She decided not to change out of her court clothes, putting her faith in the menacing effect of the dark suit and heels that made her taller than most men.

She was relieved to find him alone in the large open-plan office he shared with several detectives, and gratified to see his blue eyes widen with surprise when she pushed through the swing door unannounced.

‘Good evening, Sergeant Fowler.’ She slapped a single file upon the desk in front of him and sat on the visitors’ chair with her long legs crossed. His suit jacket hung over the back of his chair, his tie pulled loose at the collar of his creased white shirt and the skin around his eyes was dark and pouched. On his desk sat a grubby computer monitor and a keyboard with letters worn to smudges.

He looked at her across a barricade of mugs, each holding a residual smear of coffee. ‘Ms, er...’ He recognised her, she could tell, but was too stunned by her sudden appearance to put a name to her face.

‘Senior Sergeant Hooper, Central,’ Stevie reminded him.

‘Ah yes...’ he made a searching movement with his hand.

‘We met a few days ago outside the Pavel house. You filed a complaint against me, said you’d get me dismissed. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who I am already?’

‘Of course not.’ He regarded her closely. ‘A grim business—on all counts.’

‘Very grim.’

‘So what is it I can do for you?’

Stevie put her hand into her pocket and removed Skye’s paper bag, carefully placing it on his desk. ‘This is a button found by Skye Williams just outside the taped crime scene and given to me. I thought you should have it.’

Fowler peered gingerly into the bag as if it might have a snake in it. His pink face turned violent red. ‘Good God, the vindictive little cow; she’s withheld this from me deliberately and now it’s completely useless—I can’t use this.’ He shoved the paper bag back at her. ‘I’ll have her charged for this.’

Stevie returned the button to her bag and snapped the clasp. ‘Yes, I suppose her actions could be seen as vindictive,’ she said, ‘just as your handling of the Pavel case could be seen as incompetent. You’ve been letting an incident between yourself and Skye Williams from nearly three years ago colour your dealings with her now, and you have ignored vital evidence from her as a result.’

Fowler slapped his hands upon his desk. ‘Jesus Christ, what the hell is it you want?’

‘Not your case, if that’s what you think. I’ve enough on my own plate. I want you to find the Pavels and I want you to show some respect for Skye.’

‘Your friend’s a whore. Are you aware of that, Hooper?’

Stevie expelled a breath: my God, this man had women issues. ‘She was a sex worker, and of course I’m aware of it. I’ve read the file. As far as I’m concerned it makes no difference to our friendship, just as it should have made no difference to you when she reported her rape to you almost three years ago. She was turning tricks to finance herself through uni. It might not be everyone’s idea of gainful employment, but it pays a lot better than flipping burgers.’

‘She’s a junkie.’

‘That’s a fabrication.’

‘She denies it?’

‘Skye hasn’t told me anything.’ Stevie tapped the folder on Fowler’s desk. ‘It’s all in here, including your negligent investigation of her case. Skye has never been a user; she wouldn’t have coped with the nursing curriculum if she had been. Christ, Fowler, no wonder you were transferred to Peppermint Grove. If it was me on the internal affairs panel I’d have dismissed you altogether.’

Clearly shaken, he didn’t answer, got up from his desk and turned his back, suddenly taking great interest in the drops of rain coursing down the window.

Stevie wasn’t enjoying this as much as she thought she would, but now she’d started she had to continue to the bitter end.

‘Skye was brutally assaulted by one of her customers and you refused to take her allegations seriously,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t until a sex worker was murdered months later that some bright spark pulled the file and linked the man to Skye’s assault. True to form, Skye didn’t stay silent. She went to your boss and told him how you’d treated her, which resulted in you being busted down to Peppermint Grove. And what a place.’ Stevie waved her arms around the tatty office with its dented desks and faded green walls. ‘One of the most affluent suburbs in WA, yet its cop shop is struggling to stay afloat. I guess the powers that be don’t think the occasional luxury car theft, home burglary and drug deals between private school kids warrant much of a budget. This place can hardly be a challenge to someone with your record.’