Chapter 45
‘O’Neill made the autopsy report disappear,’ Nel said as soon as Jimmy opened the passenger door.
She’d been dreading seeing him since their awkward interaction at the Grand, but she was desperate to tell him what she’d learned through her conversation with Geoff.
She’d messaged him as soon as she left the Marshalls’ place, telling him she had new information.
On the short drive to pick him up, she’d decided she wouldn’t acknowledge the incident at the pub at all.
Hopefully he would do the same, and they could both pretend it never happened.
He looked at her, wide-eyed. ‘How do you know?’
‘Geoff Marshall told me.’
Nel filled him in on their conversation as she drove to the beach. They reached the car park as she finished. Jimmy sat in stunned silence.
Eventually he shook his head. ‘That dodgy bastard.’
‘He was just trying to spare Faye more pain,’ she said. It didn’t make it right, but she could understand why he did it.
‘I’m talking about O’Neill.’
‘Oh. Yeah, it’s pretty bad.’
‘Nothing shits me like corrupt cops.’ His mouth was a hard thin line. Nel could sense his quiet fury.
They walked in silence along the boardwalk that ran over the lagoon and along the beach as a pelican soared overhead. Silver sunlight danced on the breaking waves in the distance.
‘You think Geoff’s telling the truth about why he got the case dropped?’ Jimmy asked.
Nel wasn’t following. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He said it was to spare Faye from the pain. D’you think that’s it?’
She frowned. ‘You think he didn’t want people to know Maddie was pregnant?’
He picked up a pebble and turned it over in his fingers as they walked.
‘It wouldn’t have been a good look for him.
His base is very conservative. It wouldn’t have been ideal for him to have a dead teenage daughter, especially one who turned out to be pregnant.
’ He skimmed the pebble across the lagoon, watched it bounce once, twice, three times, sending ripples across the surface.
‘Maybe.’ She turned it over in her mind. ‘It doesn’t make much difference though, does it?’
He shrugged and picked up another stone.
‘Poppy got another email on Saturday,’ Nel said, realising she’d forgotten to tell him.
‘I have news on that. You won’t believe it.’
‘What?’
‘I got the IP address traced. Guess where it leads?’
‘Ryan?’
Jimmy nodded. ‘21 Cliff Street.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Yep. I can’t believe anyone could be that stupid.’
She should have been pleased that they had the proof, but something had been bothering her about the emails. Suddenly she knew what it was.
‘Shit.’
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to explain.
‘My nephew got into a fight with Ryan’s son, Charlie. He called me a murderer, apparently.’ Even days later, shame swelled inside her. ‘D’you think Charlie could have written the emails?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘What should we do?’
Jimmy skimmed the stone, watched it bounce three times then disappear below the glassy surface. He turned back to her. ‘Why don’t I doorknock them and tell them emails have been sent from that address? That way it’s on the record if things escalate.’