‘Have you noticed anything suspicious on your trips to the deceased’s dwelling over the past few weeks?’ Kendall asked.

  Alice Cheung shook her head slightly. ‘Nothing at all. We had established a very agreeable pattern. I am not aware of any strange occurrences, nor do I truly believe anyone else was aware of our meetings. I’m sorry but that is all I can tell you.’

  There was still one box to tick.

  ‘Are you able to account for your movements from Friday evening till Sunday morning?’ Mahoney asked.

  If she was flummoxed, it didn’t show. ‘I attended an exhibition opening at the Colville Gallery on Friday evening and on Saturday, having found myself to be free, I spent the day on Bruny Island. Maria Amos was at the art opening on Friday and she asked me down to her property for the weekend. I accepted. My husband, Kevin, was away in the north of the state so it was a welcome invitation. I was on the nine o’clock ferry across the channel on Saturday morning and returned late yesterday afternoon.’

  Mahoney nodded. It was an alibi easily checked: a quick job for Dunstan back at the office.

  The detectives thanked her and left. Once seated in the car, Kendall said, ‘Somebody else must have known about the affair.’

  ‘I’d say so. Somebody knew only too well, but didn’t want her potentially interrupting proceedings or discovering the body.’

  ‘Perhaps a murderer with a touch of sensitivity. How bizarre.’

  ‘Agreed. I think we will need the help of the Cortese chap.’

  ‘What are we thinking?’ Mahoney asked as he stood by a large Perspex board with a marker pen in his hand.

  Kendall and Gibson stood facing the orderly collage of photos stuck to the surface. Gibson spoke first. ‘From what Alice Cheung told you and the siting of the van, the perpetrator was at work on Friday evening.’

  The sergeant nodded. ‘The initial conclusions from the autopsy and the crime scene support that. Our killer did his homework on Hellyer: knew the pattern of his weekend sojourns at Opossum Bay—when Hellyer was going to arrive, who he was expecting the next day, the layout of the house.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Mahoney as he pointed to the head shot of the victim. ‘Hellyer was having an affair with Alice Cheung. To the best of her knowledge, it’s unbeknown to others.’

  ‘Apart from the proprietors of the shop knew about it, and Hellyer told Boxhall. Not completely discreet after all.’

  ‘Exactly, David. If they’re aware of it, other people could be too—including somebody targeting Hellyer. The van was seen a few times over summer, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘We’ll go with the van person being the killer for now. Alice Cheung’s alibi holds water according to our checks. Local witnesses recall only one person in the van, although there could have been an accomplice in the back. Remember, Hellyer is not a small figure to be manhandled. Even drugged, it would take a fair degree of strength to string him up. So one, perhaps two, involved. The forensics report should help there. Mrs Cheung has agreed to be fingerprinted so we can eliminate her traces at the house.’

  ‘She is not likely to have done it?’ asked Gibson.

  Kendall shook her head. ‘No motive. And beyond her means, I think. But what about her husband, Sir?’

  ‘Dunstan’s covered that as well.’ Mahoney raised his eyebrows: the chunky constable was evolving into a fail-safe intelligence researcher. ‘Kevin Cheung is an investor in the golf course scheme, so it’s unlikely he’d wish to dispatch the prime mover in the development. And he was in Devonport from Thursday to Sunday. Dunstan pulled up some photos from the online version of The Advocate. Cheung was at a tourism function on Friday evening and a food fair on the Saturday, both in and around Devonport which is about four hours away from the scene.’

  ‘As both Mrs Hellyer and Alice Cheung said, Kevin Cheung and Hellyer were drinking buddies too. Seems a stretch for Cheung to know what was going on behind his back.’

  ‘I think you’re right, Kate. Having met Alice Cheung, I’m inclined to believe her version that her husband was oblivious to the affair. I don’t wish to alert Mr Cheung of it if I don’t have to. Her calling the station could be a bluff, but that seems a bit far-fetched. Her husband may have known and wanted Hellyer punished, but it’s hugely hypothetical at this stage.’

  Gibson pointed to the image of Hellyer’s desecrated body. ‘The manner of the execution seems extreme for that too.’

  Mahoney stared at the wounds as if seeing them afresh. ‘It’s barbaric, yet so methodical.’ He breathed deeply. ‘I’ll have to call Cheung under the guise of getting some background on Hellyer. I can’t let the chance of letting the cat out of the bag override our need to know as much as possible. David, keep working on the van and get hold of whatever Dunstan’s got on Newcrest Nominees. The business side could be an angle. Kate, go up to the offices of Tiger Brewing. Find out what you can about Hellyer from his colleagues. I’ll meet with Cheung but it’s my guess we have to spread the net wider.’ Mahoney looked at his watch. ‘See you back here at five o’clock.’

  Gibson was straight off to sit with Dunstan at the computer.

  ‘The profiler, Cortese?’ Kendall asked before moving.

  ‘Yeah.’ He rubbed his brow. ‘I’ll sound him out too. I think he’ll be needed.’

  

  Having left a voicemail message for Cortese, Mahoney exited the building to meet Cheung. Half of him wished he could do it over the phone; it would be a lot quicker and he could perhaps avoid the delicate issue of his wife’s infidelity. Alice Cheung had seemed so decent. Yet, Mahoney’s professional half dictated that he must go face-to-face. He couldn’t put a ring around the sensibilities of certain people. The squad was dealing with a grievous homicide so pussyfooting about simply wasn’t on.

  Halfway up Liverpool Street the vehicle traffic was crawling. As Mahoney walked past the construction site causing the stoppages, he wondered when the development would be completed. The city heart needed it. In an economy this size any investment by a major company was welcome. Just why the government had flatly rejected a proposal by a consortium to create a new hospital precinct was anybody’s guess. The state was hanging on by its nails and the politicians wanted to use the clippers.

  He crossed Harrington Street and, halfway up the block, arrived at a plain double storey brick building, cream paint with green trim for the window frames. It was impossible to decipher what sort of aesthetic statement was being made. The top floor of number 207 contained the offices of the Southern Spice Trading Company. Kevin Cheung, the owner, had asked to meet there.

  Mahoney ascended the stairs to a space that was utilitarian, at best: bare wooden floors with cartons stacked in one corner, and a forlorn cheap-looking desk with a kettle perched on it. Through a doorway was another space that was carpeted and looked brighter. He coughed to indicate his presence.

  ‘Inspector?’ A man appeared in the door frame. His jet black hair was given shape by a touch of product. He was wearing polished black shoes, navy trousers and a shirt so white it belonged in a Persil ad.

  ‘Yes, DI John Mahoney.’ He opened up his ID card.

  A dismissive wave with a wide smile. ‘Of course it is. Who would say that which they are not? Come in please.’

  He followed Cheung into the corner office and took the offered seat. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me at such short notice. I imagine you’re a very busy man.’

  ‘That is true but I must make time for you. My sincere apologies. I have nothing to offer you but water.’ His hand pointed to a stack of plastic water bottles on the floor.

  ‘No, thank you. I’d rather get straight on to things.’

  ‘Of course. You are very busy.’ He had a slight accent but it was the stilted diction that revealed he was an outsider. Hobart was hardly a melting pot, but it was improving on earlier days. How monochrome the country would be without immigration.

  Mahoney decided to risk a few curly questions; perhaps Cheung would miss the nuances.

  ‘When did you find out about Hellyer’s death?’

  ‘My wife called me late this morning. She had heard the sad news on the radio and wished to tell me.’

  Mahoney wondered what she’d said.

  ‘She told me what I already knew.’

  ‘Which was?’ It seemed Cheung was controlling the nuances.

  ‘She and Scott were lovers.’

  Mahoney stayed silent in case the husband was bluffing, looking for a confirmation of his own suspicions. Cheung sat straighter.

  ‘My wife called me before she rang your station. She told me of their liaisons and asked me what to do.’

  ‘And you advised her to contact us and be candid.’

  ‘Correct, Inspector. I have not told her I already knew of their weekend liaisons at Scott’s house. It would confuse her.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘She would wonder why I had let it go on.’

  ‘And why did you?’

  ‘Because I, too, also enjoy this type of liaison. With Mrs Hellyer.’

  Mahoney tried very hard to keep a straight face. Bob and Carol, Ted and Alice. Now this was unusual.

  ‘Last week at Barcelona. You were having a drink with Mr Hellyer and you saw Mrs Hellyer there?’

  Cheung let a small smile slip. ‘I had not meant to see Sophie that evening. It was pure chance that she visited the wine bar where I was meeting Scott. She was very composed and was with us for just a few moments.’

  ‘So Hellyer didn’t twig to that side of things?’

  ‘Twig?’

  ‘Cotton on … umm … realise.’

  ‘No. He was prompted to claim he would be away in the north of the state for the weekend. Perhaps for my benefit or for that of his former wife. I do not know.’

  Mahoney decided he could do with a bottle of water after all; he helped himself and sat back down. ‘Let me get this right. You and Mrs Hellyer have been conducting an affair. For how long?’

  ‘Approximately one year.’

  ‘And neither your wife nor Mr Hellyer knew of it?’

  ‘No. If my wife knew, she would have mentioned it today. Would she not?’

  ‘So you and Sophie Hellyer get away with it. But he and Alice don’t. Who else knew about them? Sophie?’

  ‘Not at all. I certainly did not tell her. In such matters, the fewer the people who knew, the better. She suspected her husband of being unfaithful but she would not have thought of Alice.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because Alice is Asian. Sophie is an Anglo woman. I do not think she can imagine anyone apart from a pretty blonde being sexually attractive. She is a nice woman, but blinkered.’

  ‘What was the attraction for Alice?’

  ‘Of Scott?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He was an assertive man. Confident. That and the thrill of an extra-marital affair. Much of the excitement with these matters is in the mind.’

  That, or a cry for attention. Mahoney really didn’t want to divulge his musings on relationships and their pitfalls. He had to press on.

  ‘I’m thinking this state of affairs doesn’t give you sufficient motivation to wish harm upon Mr Hellyer?’

  Cheung burst into laughter.

  ‘My apologies. That was inappropriate. I can assure you that Scott’s death is perhaps the last thing I would desire. The affairs were a small matter. It was his role as a frontman that was important. His death has suddenly given me a very large problem.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Have you heard of the proposed tourism development at South Arm?’

  ‘Yes. Golf course, conference centre. All the bells and whistles. So far we’ve established Mr Hellyer’s holding company was behind it.’

  Cheung nodded. ‘That is correct. Newcrest Nominees is holding the purse strings of bags of foreign money.’ He frowned as if carefully considering his words. ‘This is a marvellous country, Inspector. But there continues to be a prejudice against the so-called Yellow Peril. I, along with some other gentlemen from Taiwan, saw the potential for just such a development. The airport is being improved. The atmosphere here is clear and the attractions are easy to reach. It’s a perfect location for Asian travellers.’ He looked Mahoney levelly in the eye. ‘A boon for the economy. But we must tread carefully. Foreign investment is crucial for this country, but it scares some people.’

  The same people who enjoy a good standard of living thanks to China buying our iron ore, Mahoney thought.

  ‘So you’d established Scott Hellyer as the driving force behind the proposal? An acceptable face for public consumption.’ He paused slightly. ‘You would hardly get rid of him.’

  ‘Precisely, Inspector. To be blunt, Scott Hellyer was immensely valuable to our consortium while alive. His death, unfortunate as that is, gives us a great obstacle to overcome. There is no personal or professional reason for me to have wished Scott any harm.’

  And that was that, concluded Mahoney. An intriguing, but ultimately fruitless, dead end. They chatted further about the development and Cheungs’s impressions of the deceased, but nothing of help was forthcoming. He thanked the businessman and left.

  Out on the street he realised he was two blocks from Tiger Brewing and decided to catch Kendall there.

  Mahoney cut through Centrepoint Shopping Centre to get to Collins Street. As he hit the open air, he saw his sergeant on the opposite pavement tapping on her phone. He jaywalked across.

  ‘Ah, Sir. Just texting you. There’s a visitor for us at headquarters.’

  ‘Tell me on the way.’

  The sun was well over the central blocks leaving them in the shade. The cooler air also heralded the turning of the seasons; autumn was here.

  ‘So, Kate, how did you go?’

  ‘The woman in charge of the advertising accounts, Jennifer Jones, is away on leave. The admin assistant for her and Hellyer was there but she couldn’t really tell me a whole lot. Her name is Lizzie Norwood.’

  ‘Bit reticent? Shocked?’

  ‘Neither. She never met him.’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘No, truly. It’s her first day. Just came down from Melbourne. She was interviewed by the Jones woman about two weeks ago and instructed to start today.’

  The DI’s brow furrowed. ‘Bit strange.’

  ‘Not how she tells it. She had a formal handover day on Friday with the girl she’s replacing. All went fine. Jones is due back tomorrow.’

  ‘Where was Hellyer on Friday then?’

  ‘Tourism seminar at Freycinet. Most of his work was out of the office apparently.’ They sidestepped a jogger. ‘Young Lizzie brought up his work diary for the last month on the computer. He was a pretty busy guy.’

  ‘Anything unusual?’

  ‘Not that I could see. I saved a copy of the file to my memory stick so you can check.’

  They turned into Argyle Street for the final stretch. ‘I don’t suppose you got a look at his colleague’s diary.’

  ‘Norwood was accommodating but not naïve. I decided it best not to push our luck at Tiger just yet. We hardly want the Jones woman offside before we meet her.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. So bugger all at his workplace so far, and not much more from Cheung.’

  He gave her a precis of their meeting, finishing the tale as they crossed the foyer at HQ.

  ‘That’s pretty freaky, Sir. This can be one hell of a small town, can’t it? Who’d have imagined. No wonder Sophie Hellyer wasn’t too fussed about the end of her marriage.’

  ‘Strange days indeed.’ Mahoney opened the door to the incident room for her. ‘Now, who’s this visitor we’re meant to see?’

  Kendall pointed to the far corner where Gibson was standing by the Perspex board with a stranger. From behind, all Mahoney could see was a slim man with a smoothly shaven head. The jacket looked expensive. Armani? Gibson caught his boss’s questioning look.

  ‘Sir, good timing. I was just showing Mr Cortese a few of our findings.’

  ‘Were you now? Good for you, David.’

  Mahoney ignored the newcomer. ‘And we know this is the profiler because …?’

  ‘Doctor Pitney brought him up and introduced him.’

  Mahoney’s sails slackened; he had to stop assuming Gibson was wet behind the ears.

  ‘Of course. And where is she now?’

  ‘She has returned to her cavern of macabre delights, Inspector. May I introduce myself, as DC Gibson hasn’t had the opportunity. I’m Adriano Cortese.’

  Mahoney turned and met a pair of green eyes twinkling with amusement. He resisted the urge to poke them out, and held out his hand instead.

  ‘DI John Mahoney and this is DS Kate Kendall. I’m sorry, Mr Cortese, you’ve caught me unprepared. I didn’t realise you’d be here quite so soon. I trust you didn’t drop everything in Melbourne to fly straight in for us.’

  ‘I thought you knew. I was already in Hobart visiting my parents. They retired to this quaint little place a few years ago.’

  It hadn’t been mentioned; cunning little bugger. But he was here now and they might as well use him.

  ‘What do you know of our case?’

  ‘I’ve inspected the corpse and looked at the scene-of-crime photos.’

  That was an interesting idea of protocol; Pitney may need to be reminded how procedures functioned in criminal investigations.

  ‘Would you share your initial thoughts with us?’

  ‘Certainly. You’re looking for a skilled mechanic, first-generation child of Slavic immigrants, lapsed Catholic, unmarried, tidy in appearance, and quite possibly paranoid.’

  Gibson’s excitement got the better of him. ‘That’s brilliant. All that from this?’ He waved his arm at the board.