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report on the death of his sister?’

‘Try the archives, but don’t hold your breath. If it wasn’t suspicious at the time, I agree, it’s crazy. But in three months this is our only link. You’ve got to admit,’ Alex said with a lopsided grin, ‘it’s a beauty.’

‘What are we going to do, though?’ asked Marion.

‘Think. Think very carefully.’

* They planned it for the next day. Three teams of two, doorknocking the houses on the hill. New evidence has been received. A report of a strange car seen on the night. Cars sometimes drove up the hill and parked on the grass verge to enjoy the harbour view. It was spectacular. One of the best in the city. There wasn’t an official car park, no parking signs, but people parked there all

the same.

Marion, sweet Marion, along with one of the uniforms, would be questioning Judge Nyss and his wife. Trying to answer the big questions. Did he come home before setting out to the holiday home? And what about the assertion he arrived there at two in the morning? That was critical. With nearly a two-hour drive to the beach house, if he was there by two in the morning, he was in the clear. It had to be subtle. Very subtle.

In no way was Judge Nyss to catch on that he was the one they were trying to trap.

* ‘Hey, Rose, over here.’ Juliana was seated at a booth, halfway through a bright red cocktail complete with an umbrella and a curly straw. One of Jack’s specials.

‘Sorry I’m late, had to start dinner for the kids.’

‘You’re cooking for them? Good grief. How are they ever going to learn? Want one of these?’

‘No, thanks. Water’s fine. Are you staying over the road tonight, or going home?’

‘Joe’s picking me up when he’s finished at the club. It’s bridge night. I can indulge.’ She was casually dressed. Black slacks and a red jacket. Her hair pulled back with a matching red clip.

‘It’s been a very interesting two days, young Rose.’

‘Tell me,’ said Rose. ‘I’ve been dying of curiosity.’

Juliana smiled. ‘Before I start, I’ll say that everyone around here has an opinion. No one ever holds back. He’s a good lad, or he’s a bad lad, or she’s a good girl, or she’s a slut. You can imagine. The church used to lay it out pretty clearly. Especially for girls,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘I was considered the spawn of the devil by the more righteous members. But the Church had pretty much lost me by then. So there.’

Rose grinned. ‘I don’t think you’d have ever been a bad person, Juliana. Maybe they made you feel bad, but that’s different. Anyway, what’s this got to do with anything?’

‘Ah,’ said Juliana taking another sip of her cocktail. ‘What I was going to say was we can’t believe everything Mrs O’Brien says, because once this lot get an idea in their head, you can’t shift it with a barge pole.’

‘Yeah, okay. But what did she say?’

‘Fascinating. Very slow to start talking, I have to admit. Took a bit of prodding. But here’s the thing, she did not like Edward, Trudi’s brother. Did not like him one little bit!’

Rose sat back in her chair. ‘She didn’t like Edward? So what?’

‘Perhaps I didn’t phrase it properly. Without coming out with it straight, I’m pretty sure Mrs O’Brien thought there was something not quite right with Edward. She didn’t say it openly. But when I asked about Trudi’s accident, you know what

she did?’

‘What?’

‘She went like this, “Humph”,’ said Juliana, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her nose up to the ceiling. ‘And then she said, “Accident? Accident?” Suggests to me she thought the whole thing was very suspicious.’

Rose took a sip of the water that had found its way to the table. A Humph from Mrs O’Brien and they were thinking Edward had something to do with Trudi’s death.

‘Does she think he was, I don’t know—responsible for his sister’s death?’

‘She’d never be so indiscreet, would she? Him being a judge. But I tell you, I’ve known the old biddy all my life and I know when she’s worried. The minute I mentioned the brother, she crossed herself. I saw her. Warding off evil.’

‘But Juliana, I don’t know if he’s the phantom judge Detective Cameron was thinking about. I tried the net. He’s listed as a judge, but I’ve no idea where he lives. He’s not in the phone book. You wouldn’t expect a judge to be in the phone book.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to worry. It’s him, all right. Mrs O’Brien told me. He lives up on the Point, has a fancy mansion up the top of the cliff. And what’s below the cliff? Pierce’s Park. Edwina was found at the base of the steps to the clifftop. Pretty much underneath his house.’

‘How on earth does Mrs O’Brien know where he lives?’

‘The Church network, silly. The judge is a Catholic, for God’s sake. A rich one. They buy credits, you know, for later. He donates to the bishop’s fund each year, a tidy sum. I guess if you want redemption, you have to pay for it. Meant to be hush-hush. “I don’t want any publicity,” that sort of rubbish. “I’m just being a nice guy, helping out the poor. Haven’t forgotten my roots.” Such crap.

The bishop likes to show off, big note, so he used to talk about it with Father O’Leary.’ She sat back, her eyes gleaming.

‘Who’s Father O’Leary?’

‘Oh, sorry. The old parish priest here. He died last year. They’ve got a new one now. Father O’Leary used to spend a lot of time having tea with Mrs O’Brien. Two old folk together.’

‘Ah. I see. She would have told Edwina.’

‘Oh, yes. The two of them didn’t have secrets from one another. So there it is, a nice straight line for all the juicy church gossip. From the judge to the bishop who tells Father O’Leary, who tells Mrs O’Brien, who tells

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