How Manson knew this would be relevant now wasn’t worth pursuing, but the lead was. Gibson got Mahoney’s attention by waving his mobile.

  ‘Fuzzy downstairs knows something.’

  ‘Put him on speaker.’ Mahoney spoke. ‘Sarge, what’s up?’

  ‘That blood nut’s got his head up his arse. If he’s Mr Detective Constable, I’m Senior Sergeant. You got that, David? Plods at the front desk do keep across what the Sweeney are up to, you know. The alert from Manning came through to me as well. Anyways, practically right as that happened, this Duncan Edmunds rings in with a concern that something dodgy is going on at his pizzeria in Hampden Road.’

  ‘As in?’

  ‘Very iffy smell in the kitchen, John. Gas, he thinks.’

  ‘Have you dispatched anyone?’

  ‘Nope. I called young Morse first.’

  ‘Good. Don’t dispatch anyone. We’ll deal with it. Text me the details please.’

  ‘Sure. Good luck.’

  Mahoney took his own phone out. ‘Silver Ball, 94 Hampden. Is that one of the five?’

  Dunstan hovered over a red flag on the screen image. ‘Yep, it is.’

  ‘Call this Edmunds guy and tell him we’re on the way. Call the firies as well. Advise Edmunds not to touch anything and to wait for us out the rear of the building.’

  ‘Righto.’

  ‘Kate, you and Andrew find out what you can about Edmunds, okay?’

  ‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘And you’re off with Endeavour to follow up?’

  ‘Correct. David, let’s go.’

  The lights were with them so, even allowing for the construction outside the hospital refurbishment site, they made the trip in just over ten minutes. Some aggressive lane-changing helped. Amazingly, a kerb space was open for Mahoney’s car behind a fire truck.

  They crossed the street and walked up the pathway in front of the stucco brick restaurant premises. A tall figure was waiting for them; he was dressed in a white shirt and chinos, and had designer stubble with a hipster haircut.

  ‘Hi guys. Thanks for coming so quickly. Mind you, I was expecting uniforms.’

  ‘These are ours,’ said Mahoney. ‘You’re Duncan Edmunds? I’m Inspector Mahoney and this is DC Gibson. This your place?’

  ‘Yeah. Eight months in and we’re going gangbusters. It helps being up the street from D’Angelo’s.’

  ‘I’d reckon it would.’ Mahoney peered around the corner to the open back door. ‘What alerted you?’

  Edmunds led them to the space outside the rear entrance. ‘I turned up as usual to receive deliveries and prep for tonight. As soon as I opened the door, the waft hit me.’ He tapped his nose. ‘A good sense of smell is the main part of a job in the kitchen.’

  ‘Did you do anything else right then?’

  ‘No fear. I wasn’t going to flick a switch. I like charred meat, just not mine.’

  ‘You didn’t even check the ovens?’ interjected Gibson.

  ‘Oh yeah, I did that obviously. I could see from the door that the dials on the main cooker were all full on, so I ducked back out and shut off the main tap. It’s dissipated now but you can still sense the smell.’

  ‘No chance it was staff error?’

  Edmunds laughed. ‘No chance. Errors do happen, but all the dials ramped up? No.’

  ‘Made sense to call it in then.’

  ‘Hope you don’t mind me asking, but this level of police interest is more than I expected.’

  Candour seemed the right option. ‘You’re right. We’re actually homicide detectives.’

  Edmunds’s eyes widened. ‘So, this was like a real threat? To me? Not arson then?’

  ‘It could be arson but, in the strictest confidence, it could also be personal. We’ll need to talk. But first, so we can best sort this out, you’ll need to be shut for tonight.’

  ‘Fair enough. The bookings are light for once. I guess you guys want to give it the once over. I’ll need to grab the bookings sheet, call a few customers and staff, and make a sign.’

  ‘Constable Gibson will grab the book for you. At the front desk?’

  ‘Yep. What about the firemen inside?’

  ‘Of course. Hang on a tic, David.’ Mahoney peered around the corner to witness a pair of fire officers emerging through the rear door. ‘Everything okay guys?’

  ‘All clear. It needs airing out, but there’s no ongoing threat.’

  Mahoney thanked them and gestured to Gibson who went straight in. There was enough light for him to see a way through to the tables.

  Mahoney took out his phone. ‘Kate, it’s John. We’re here and it looks very iffy. The firemen attending have cleared it, but get someone from Arson over here straightaway. The restaurant will be closed for the evening. David and I will be interviewing Mr Edmunds. He’s right here with me now. Text through anything you’ve found, okay?’

  The young owner was sending text messages. ‘Just letting the crew know.’ He paused. ‘Oh shit. Couldn’t be one of them, could it?’

  If it was, they’d be surprised to receive a text from their boss. ‘I doubt it, to be honest. We’ll need their details to touch base, but it’s not my first thought.’

  Gibson stepped back out with a register in one hand. ‘I can call round if you like. I used to work in my dad’s pub so I know how to rearrange times and stuff.’

  ‘Sure, I suppose. I get the impression your boss is itching to chat.’

  ‘I am. David, do the ring round from the car while Mr Edmunds and I hang here for a bit.’

  Gibson nodded and took himself off around the corner.

  ‘So, how long have you been in hospitality?’

  ‘A couple of years. I started with a no-frills pizza outlet in Claremont. Only two attempted hold-ups, but about a thousand Hawaiians.’

  ‘Oh yes, the lure of ham and charred pineapple.’

  ‘No point reinventing the wheel, Inspector. Eighteen months in, the lease for this place came up and I went for a slightly classier operation. More pasta dishes and salads.’

  ‘And the name Silver Ball?’

  ‘I scored a mirrored disco ball from a nightclub that was being refurbished. It hangs in the main dining space. It’s a gimmick but it seems to work. Want to see it?’

  ‘Better wait. Our tech guy will be here pretty soon.’ Mahoney gazed down the roof line of old properties. ‘The great location must help, not that I doubt the food is any good. From memory, the tenants here before you were rubbish.’

  ‘Yeah, nothing was fresh and they bailed after a year. That helped me get a super deal with the rent. I hope this doesn’t stuff up our good run.’

  ‘As I said, it should be just this evening. Fortunately, there’s no damage.’

  ‘Or a body.’

  ‘Are you still wondering why plain clothes detectives are attending?’

  ‘Well, yeah. Not that I don’t appreciate the response.’

  Mahoney shuffled his feet. ‘I am interested in why you could be a target.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘No idea really. Ange Farracio at D’Angelo’s and I get along well. Actually, it was him who told me about the vacancy here. He’s always chock-a-block, so I’m hardly competition. The immediate neighbours are fine. God knows.’

  ‘Right. And before the Claremont place, what were you doing?’

  ‘Pulling beers at the Prince of Wales while I did a Bachelor of Business at UTAS. I might seem overqualified, but the most important part of this business is marketing and accounts.’

  ‘I imagine so. Where’s home?’

  ‘Down here, a flat in Dynnyrne. Originally, up north.’

  ‘Launceston?’

  ‘Yeah. My folks still live in Trevallyn. I went to Saint Pat’s. Some learning and plenty of sport and hellfire.’

  ‘I know what you mean. I had the southern version.’ Mahoney narrowed his eyes for the crucial query. ‘Which sports?’

  ‘Usual stuff. Soccer in winter and tennis through summer.’

  ‘Any good?’

  ‘Oh, you know. State underage rep in both but I was never going to go much further. It instilled good habits and all that though. I still have a hit of tennis on Monday nights.’ Edmunds broke off. ‘Is there a background thing in all this?’

  There was no other way to put it. ‘Yes. I’m here because you may be a potential target for a suspect we’re after. Ever heard of a Michael Fowler?’

  His brow furrowed. ‘Nope. But is that the psycho who got Trish and Scotty? Really?’

  ‘We’ve established a link between that suspect and your premises. And, in the strange schema of our suspect’s head, there’s also a tangible connection to the two victims you mentioned.’

  ‘You think he did this?’

  ‘Quite possibly. As you noted, the police response is more urgent than you might expect.’

  ‘Fuck. What now?’

  ‘Stick with me. Literally. I’ll get a team around to look over your flat. We’ve got an arrangement with Accord Hotel to put people up if needs be. You’ll have round-the-clock cover.’

  ‘Like witness protection in some US drama? You’re kidding me. All because there’s a gas leak? Piss off.’

  The anger was understandable but had to be quelled. ‘You’re right. It feels a bit over-the-top but the danger is real. This is substantially more than a leak from a dodgy stove top. Believe me, it’s very specific and you have to be protected. The hotel is secure. Officers on rotation will keep an eye on you. One of us will escort you home to get some gear. Tomorrow the business can run as normal. This way is by far the best option.’ Mahoney didn’t say it was the only option; hopefully, Edmunds would recognise that.

  His shoulders dropped. ‘I guess so. If I can avoid what happened to Scott and Trish, I should be grateful.’

  ‘How did you know them?’

  ‘Oh, you know, this is not the biggest city in the world. They were well ahead of me at school in Launceston. I’d heard of Trish, national rep and all that, when I was younger, but then I met her at a fundraiser last year. She used to come in here every so often with her family. Scott and I met through the business. He was a good sales guy. Gave us a great deal on their beers. I’d see him at tennis on those Monday nights too.’

  Before Mahoney could inquire further, a gaunt man in blue overalls appeared around the corner carrying a large plastic clip-box of gear. He had clipped russet-grey hair, a sharp nose and aqua blue eyes. A bony hand shout out. ‘Inspector, I’m Sergeant Adams. Arson Squad.’

  Mahoney laid out the basic facts. ‘Anything you can pick up would be appreciated.’

  The reply was as spare as the physique. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Not the chatty type,’ observed Edmunds.

  ‘Job to do. As have we. Let’s get you sorted first. Anything you need from here?’

  ‘Nah, it can wait till tomorrow.’

  Mahoney led the way down the path to the kerb where Gibson was finishing a call.

  ‘All good. I’ve contacted everyone who was down for tonight. I had to leave a few voicemails but those I spoke to have mostly rebooked for later in the week.’

  ‘If you’re up for any moonlighting, let me know,’ said Edmunds. ‘You’ve done a better job than most of my staff.’

  Gibson smiled unabashedly. ‘Cheers. Just helping out. I’ll stay here and check the skeleton doesn’t eat all the food then.’

  Edmunds laughed.

  ‘If you stay and liaise with Sergeant Adams that would be appreciated,’ said Mahoney. ‘Call Kate and ask her to send Geason down to Mr Edmunds’s apartment.’

  ‘He’s there already.’

  ‘You’ve already called?’

  ‘Yep. I’ll text him to let him know you’re on your way.’

  Mahoney was quietly impressed. Had he indicated his intentions somehow? Dammed if his offsider wasn’t running the show. ‘Perfect. Do that. And the Accord is sorted and ready?’

  ‘Yep, all done.’ Gibson was deadpan. Surely he hadn’t instructed that too? Initiative from colleagues was what Mahoney wanted; he just didn’t want to be made redundant—not quite yet.

  ‘Sign for the front door?’

  ‘I’ll do it now.’

  ‘Righto.’ Mahoney leaned down to open the passenger door for Edmunds. At least he was good for something.

  

  Much later in the incident room, the inner circle gathered. Mahoney was standing in front of the case boards with Kendall and Gibson seated a few feet away. He tapped the fresh photo. ‘Duncan Edmunds is tucked away at the safe hotel. He collected some clothes and toiletries from his flat in Star Street, nice place with a view down to the Casino. Geason was there and gave it a once over. Nothing untoward, and Edmunds confirmed nothing out of place, so all good on that front.’

  ‘Under surveillance?’

  ‘Yes, Kate. Geason is there till midnight and then Sergeant Wagin will step in. Our perp may try there. It fits his home invasion pattern. Heaven help him if Wags collars him.’ Mahoney turned to Gibson. ‘Did Adams find anything?’

  ‘He sure did. The wiring from the main light switch had been diverted to a detonator sitting in the oven grill. One flick of the switch and it would have been kapow! The mother of all explosions. Without his chef’s nose, Edmunds would be toast.’

  ‘Prints, traces, anything?’

  ‘Not so far. Mike Kitchener arrived after you left and had a good look, but the place was clean as a whistle.’

  Kendall spoke up. ‘For the other two murders he’s been hands on. We’ve pushed him into fast forward.’

  ‘I’d say that’s correct. When David and I arrived at the restaurant there didn’t look to be anyone lurking around, although that doesn’t mean there wasn’t. In the morning we need to do a reccy of properties nearby in Hampden Road. Maybe Ogden settled for watching his handiwork this time.’

  Kendall pointed to the photo of Edmunds. ‘Does this guy truly fit the silver spoon scenario?’

  Before her boss could answer, Gibson chipped in. ‘As much as anybody could if you ask me. While I was waiting for Adams to finish his site inspection, I made a few calls home. Edmunds is from Launceston, tick. He’s running a successful business, tick. He showed plenty of sporting promise in his teens, tick.’

  ‘And Trevallyn’s one of the more affluent suburbs, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is. It’s right up there. But the Edmunds family weren’t. Don’t get me wrong, they didn’t struggle, but very little was served on a platter. Can I jot what I found on the board?’

  ‘Sure.’ Mahoney handed over the fluorescent marker as they swapped places.

  The constable started by underlining the name, twice. ‘Duncan. It’s not some toffy affectation. His old man was from Scotland. He came out from Glasgow in the sixties as a ten pound Pom, hardly a prosperous economic migrant. He met his wife at a soccer function not long after he arrived in Tassie. They …’

  ‘Sorry to butt in, David, but how do you know all this?’ asked Kendall.

  ‘My folks were hoteliers. There isn’t much a publican’s wife doesn’t pick up on the grapevine. So, Duncan is the good Scottish king in Macbeth. Just straight heritage. They literally set up shop in Trevallyn. They rented premises and ran a grocery for years, living above the business. Now this is before Hill Street Grocer type operations became trendy. Back then all these suburban outlets were being outmuscled by supermarket chains. The family made a living, but it certainly wasn’t beach house in the summer stuff. They worked really hard apparently. The dad is a life member of Riverside Soccer Club and Mrs Edmunds the same for the local tennis club. Real doers my mum reckoned.’

  ‘And the lad?’ Mahoney asked.

  ‘Sporty, yes. Privileged, not at all. Saint Pat’s is Catholic. Much, much lower fees than the two private colleges where Hellyer and Heath went. My take is that anything this guy has got, he’s earned the hard way.’

  Mahoney scratched his head and frowned. ‘I suppose there can only be so many who precisely fit the pattern we think is at play here. It’s close enough to what we think is the killer’s motivation.’

  ‘And we can’t ignore the link material that was found at Lenah Valley,’ Kendall prompted.

  There was silence as they waited for the boss to respond. His stare was fixed on the board. He stood abruptly as if thrusting up from a weightlifter’s squat.

  ‘This is all the work of our guy. None of them deserved it. We gather again bright and early tomorrow. We’ve been lucky today and we’re getting closer. Much closer. Much of Fowler’s focus now has to be eluding us, and that detracts from enacting his obsession. Get whatever rest you can tonight and I’ll see you at eight o’clock. Good work, David. Thank you, Kate.’

  As they departed, Mahoney remained staring at the board. Where to next?

  

  It only took Gibson ten minutes to drive home. His place in South Hobart was just off Macquarie Street near the sprawling retirement home complex. He lived in a one bedroom flat in a 1920’s block of four. The curved edges on the façade and the original leadlight windows gave the block a hint of art-deco.

  He parked his Mazda in the street and trotted up the stairwell to his front door. He couldn’t be bothered checking the mailbox; it had been another long day and he was bushed. Once through the front door he dropped his keys on the hall sideboard table and padded out to the kitchen. Tiredness was overriding hunger so he decided a mouthful of milk was all he needed. He leaned down to open the fridge door and pull out the milk carton—just a quick slug and he could collapse.

  By eight o’clock Mahoney and Kendall were in his office. An early call from Alan Wagin had confirmed that nothing untoward had occurred during the night at Edmunds’s Dynnyrne apartment. That afforded some relief, although neither detective had truly expected there would be trouble.