Just Looking: An Eamon Cowan Story

By Peter Sheldrake

Book 2 in the Eamon Cowan Series. The body of a young schoolgirl is found floating in a reservoir, killed by a drug overdose. Eamon Cowan is asked to go to the school to run a writer's workshop, and, undercover, to see if he can find out more about the girl involved. Slowly, the complicated life and activities of the girl emerge, and with the assistance of Detective Inspector Anderson, the reason for her murder emerges. More girls in the school are drawn into the investigation, as are boys from another school nearby. Suspects are tracked down, but, the murder remains unsolved, until a final twist reveals all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Travelling North
• Release date: May 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9780989346658

Book preview

Just Looking: An Eamon Cowan Story

Just Looking

An Eamon Cowan Story

Peter Sheldrake

Book 2 in the Eamon Cowan series

Travelling North

Just Looking, Copyright 2016 © Peter Sheldrake

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher.

Travelling North

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Pfafftown, NC, 27040

Travellingnorth.com

ISBN Number: 978-0-9893466-5-8

Cover photograph by the author

Copyright 2017 © Peter Sheldrake

Portrait of the author by Linda Perri Kent

Copyright 2017 © Linda Kent

Novels by Peter Sheldrake

Upside Down

Just Looking

Prologue

‘The drive up there will take about an hour and a half.  Use your GPS:  you’re going to one of the outlying parts of the town, Fowlers Road in Maiden Gully.’

‘Maiden Gully!  Are you serious?’

‘Yea, Maiden Gully; that’s what it’s called.’

‘Unbelievable.  Very appropriate, though.’

‘Fowlers Road is off Maiden Gully Road.  Don’t turn there, but drive past, and park as soon as you can.  Somewhere out of sight.’

‘OK.’

‘I know it’s a bit of a drive up there, but once you’ve arrived it’ll be easy.  It’s just a question of finding out what goes on.  You can be sure some of them will go out late at night:  all you need to do is find out when and where they leave from when they sneak out of the building.  Oh, and just check the way they go out is the way they use to go back in.’

‘That’s all?’

‘That’s all.  You do your bit, and we’ll do the rest.  Just wait and watch, and hopefully you’ll be able to report back tomorrow.’

He paused.

‘Y’know, this whole thing is getting on my nerves; I’m just sick of waiting and waiting, and not getting an answer.  Any more delays, we’ve got to get things moving. We’ll grab the girl, and then I really don’t care what happens.  If she’s frightened, or gets beaten up, or even gets killed, whatever, it just has to send a clear warning: don’t mess with us.’

There was a sigh on the line.

‘Anyway, you don’t need to worry about any of that.  Your job is the easy part; I just need you to find the best way to grab her.’

She’d heard him talking about the problem that had arisen up there.  Sounded like the girl had led had a privileged life, able to have whatever she wanted, believing she could do whatever she liked.  Now she was about to find out things like that can and do change suddenly and drastically.  Not her fault, of course: it would be up to him.  If he couldn’t be bothered to buckle down and honour his side of the deal, then they would make an example of her.  What made him think he was so important that he could delay things or even refuse?  He’d been lucky to get such a great offer, he’d taken it, and he’d soon understand you can’t mess around once you’ve accepted.  It’s all quite clear: stick with what you’ve agreed to, and that’s that.

Looking on the GPS map, she could see Maiden Gully was on the north-eastern edge of town.  The buildings on Fowlers Road were spread over a large area, with the whole development enclosed on three sides by woods, and the fourth facing the road which ran up to the main entrance.  It was almost impossible to get to the area without a car, and the road to the complex was a turning off from a more major road running into town.  Easily accessible, yet hidden away. 

He’d been very clear about what he wanted her to do.  You found your way to the area by driving up Maiden Gully Road.  The actual entrance was on a turning to the right. Rather than go in that way, he explained he wanted her to park, and then walk up through the woods and find a vantage point which allowed her to look out on to the back of the central building, the one that had all the bedrooms.  Once there, she just had to wait and watch. 

It proved to as simple as he’d said.  Once she passed the turning, looking carefully as she drove along Maiden Gully Road, she saw an empty lot on the corner of Albert Street, less than 100 metres past Fowlers Road.  Trees surrounded the bottom part of the lot, and while it wasn’t particularly close, at least parking there would ensure the car was hidden away.

Once she left her car, it turned out to be an ideal location.  Walking from the lot and straight across Maiden Gully Road took her into the woods surrounding the complex.  The undergrowth wasn’t very heavy, and it was easy to go through and reach the back of the buildings, surrounded as they were by a thick cloak of trees.  She saw one that was easy to climb, giving an excellent view of the back of the buildings, and yet with enough branches to make it unlikely anyone looking out would see her.

Within a few minutes, she was up and lodged on one of the thicker boughs; then it was simply a case of following his instructions.  He had been very clear, please do nothing tonight other than just wait, watch and learn.  He had warned her it would be cold.  It was cold, very cold; a dry cold with a slight breeze, but with a coat, scarf, beanie and lots of clothes underneath, she would be OK.  Just OK.

At 10 o’clock exactly, the lights went out on the second and third floors in the first of the two buildings, and half an hour later in the other.  Just after midnight someone, she guessed it had to be a security guard, walked along the pathway running along the back of the buildings, setting off a series of motion activated lights as he went past.  No audible alarm: the lights might just be there to help anyone outside walking around the buildings at night.  The security guard disappeared around the corner and the lights went off a few minutes later. 

It was a little before 12.30 am when a door to one side of the second building opened.  Three young women came out.  Rather than using the path they walked along close to the back wall until they came to a covered walkway linking their building to the next.  She realised they were being very careful to avoid triggering the lights; if they were being so vigilant, it suggested that when the lights came on they also triggered a warning somewhere inside the building complex. 

Staying close to the walkway but not stepping onto it, the three moved across to the next building, and then continued along the next wall until they reached a corner.  From there it appeared no further caution was necessary; they walked straight out across a grassy area, and walked into the woods.  As they moved out of sight of the buildings they passed close by her vantage point; the three must have been no more than 100 feet away.

She could hear a car coming along Maiden Gully Road.  It stopped.  There was the sound of laughter, doors closing, and the car left with the three women inside.

Wait.  The instructions were clear.  Just before three, she could hear a car coming back along the road.  It stopped, and three rather noisier women returned the way they had left.  Once they reached the door they had used to go out, one put her hand behind a rainwater down pipe, and pulled out a key.  Once the door was unlocked they went back inside, leaving the key in its hiding place.

He was right: it would be easy.  All they had to do was to ensure one night she left to go out by herself.  Trying to lure to her in the woods where they were hiding would be tricky, but waiting just inside the door would be simple.  They could grab her as she was about to leave.  It wouldn’t be possible to get her across to the road without setting off the lights, but it would be easy to deactivate the one closest to the doorway.  A can of spray paint on a stick would kill off the movement sensor.  It would have to be done straight after the security guard’s nightly round.

Or they could wait by the road.  Let her walk over, right into their welcoming arms!

Yes, it would be easy.

Chapter 1:  Tuesday 9 June

Eamon Cowan was tired.  Only three days earlier, they’d flown back into Melbourne after just over a week in England.  Penny had had gone straight back to work on Monday morning, and seemed quite unaffected by time changes; Eamon was still recovering from jet lag, tired in the afternoon, and waking early in the morning.  It wasn’t just that:  the past few months had been like a whirlwind blowing through his life, turning things upside down, and all the bits were still settling into place.  He sat back in his chair, and stifled a yawn.

The previous week had been intense, packed, and far from restful.  Part of the reason for being in England was to attend Jason and Alicia’s wedding; Alicia was Penny’s best friend.  The wedding date coincided with work, as Penny had been asked to go to a series of meetings in the UK, to finalise a complex international drugs and gun smuggling case she had been involved in some months earlier.  Coincided?  Well, as Eamon thought about it, the fact the wedding and the meetings were in the same week was the result of some serious negotiating, which boiled down to Penny saying, change the date or we won’t be there, Alicia!  Alicia had agreed, and agreement ensured Penny’s travel was covered.  Forewarned they might be travelling, Eamon had saved enough to pay his way over.

As he looked back over the few days, it had been hectic, great fun, and all over far too quickly.  Eamon liked Alicia, and now she was married, she would stop joking with Penny that she should hand him over to her once Penny was finished with him.  He also liked Jason, and they promised to catch up again and spend some time together.  Penny had invited Alicia and Jason to Melbourne, but it didn’t look likely this year.  The wedding had also given them a chance to catch up with Penny’s parents, who had come down from Durham.   Eamon hadn’t expected to see Roy and Vera again so soon, less than six months after he and Penny had been married.

Penny spent three days in London, meeting with a team of people involved in tracking down drug dealers and firearms smugglers.  While she was there, Eamon caught up with Simon Orme.  Simon was an honorary brother-in-law:  he’d been living with Christine, Penny’s older sister, for three years until she had been murdered while on an assignment in Melbourne.  Like Christine, Simon also worked for some part of the British secret service; fortunately, he had been able to wangle a couple of days free.  He, Eamon and Penny met for dinner a couple of times, once just the three of them, and once together with Roy and Vera.  Although he admitted he didn’t always have much control over his time, Simon promised he would try to come over to Melbourne later in the year. 

For someone whose parents had been killed in a car crash when he was just seven years old, it was a new and fascinating experience to be part of a happy family.  However, it was only a short visit, and in no time at all they were on their way back to the airport.  In the car, Penny asked her mum if she and her dad would come and visit them in Melbourne.

‘Of course, dear, we’d love to.’

Eamon had no idea if it was true.  One thing was quite clear:  there would be more tears at the departure gate. 

As they were dealing with passports and tickets, Roy pulled Eamon to one side.

‘I know Penny is really clever, and well-trained in self-defence, too, but please keep an eye on her for us, will you?  We don’t want to lose another daughter.’

‘No worries Roy, there’s no way I’m going to lose my wife.’

He had made the same request six months earlier.

Sitting quietly in his chair, Eamon still found it hard to accept how much his life had changed in the past few months.  Less than year ago he had been an actor, to be exact a part-time actor, getting occasional work on soaps, advertisements, and even the odd play.  As a result, he was always worrying about getting enough money, and had a long list of other part-time jobs to keep him going, everything from being a dog walker to writing advertising copy.  He had also spent his time worrying about girlfriends; his life story was he’d meet a girl, they’d get on well, but after they’d found out about the state of his house they quickly lost interest: a little ruefully he could recall the many times he was described as something of a grub.  Every one of them took a dislike to the way he lived, and while he kept promising himself he would tidy up, it never happened.

Then one evening the barman at his favourite pub had asked him to buy a drink for a girl sitting by herself in a pub, and go over to talk to her.  Joe didn’t like people to be alone, and knew she was a visitor to Melbourne.  It was an evening that was to change his life.  In no time at all he was swept up in a murder case, a suspect for some of the time.  Penny arrived on his front door, taking leave from her job in the UK to look for her sister Christine, the young woman he’d met in the pub, and from that moment on it had been non-stop.  They had worked together pursuing suspects, looking for Christine’s killer, and at one stage the case even involved Eamon in some code-breaking.  One thing led to another, and within three months he was married, very happily married, with a full-time job as the editor for a small book publisher.  As for his house, it wasn’t just tidy, it was transformed. 

Eamon looked around, trying to fend off the desire to go to bed.  His home was small, but ideal:  a hundred-year old worker’s cottage in Fitzroy, it was close to the centre of Melbourne.  It had a room at the front which could be used for visitors, but which also doubled up as a work area for Penny when she needed some quiet.  The other room alongside the hallway which ran from the front door to the back was their bedroom, and next door was the bathroom.  At the end of the hall way was the kitchen area and the living room, with a desk which Eamon used from time to time.

Eamon had bought Danish furniture every time he had made some money acting.   They added some book cases and a second chest of drawers when they returned to Melbourne, after their wedding and Christmas with her parents in Durham.  There wasn’t room for anything more. 

However, as he gazed around the room, it wasn’t just that the cottage was tidier.  When they’d returned to Fitzroy shortly after Christmas, Penny had done more than just cleaned the house up:  she wanted the inside and outside repainted; some work done in the bathroom as well as having a door to go directly there from their bedroom; and she had completely re-arranged the back room to give them more space.  When the painting and the changes to the bathroom and back room had been finished, they had a couple of months to begin to settle down and enjoy life in their Edwardian worker’s cottage without any distractions.  Then Alicia had decided to get married, and they were off on their second trip to England. 

Coming back to the greatly cleaned up home after Alicia’s wedding had been a delight. It all looked neat, and rather attractive.  It could have been like this all along.  What was more, Penny was there, and that made it simply perfect. 

Penny owned a small apartment, close to her parents, and Roy was happy to keep an eye on it.  Eamon wasn’t convinced it was worth the admittedly small expense, but Penny was determined.

‘We can use it when we want to come over to England, or even as a stopping off place if we want to go to Europe.’

In the past few months, Eamon had been to England twice, and now Penny was talking about holidays in Europe.  He’d never been outside of Australia before those two trips.

Eamon smiled.  Such a lot had happened in such a short time.  Stifling yet another yawn, he was just about to announce he was going to bed, when realised Penny was looking at him.

‘Eamon?’

‘Yes.’

‘Don’t look at me like that.  Bed can wait: I need you to listen.’

‘I am listening.  Really.’

Penny put down the folder she had been reading.

‘Eamon, I wonder if you would like to help me.’

‘On a case?’

Like a shot in the arm, Penny’s question instantly had him fully awake:  he could scarcely believe what he was hearing.  A case?

Penny was a detective, and Eamon had enjoyed working with her:   he knew he’d even played a useful role for some of the time when they had worked together. He was proud of the fact he’d tracked down information and solved some puzzles, all of which had led to finding Christine’s murderer, as well helping expose a massive drug and gun smuggling ring.  Their success had resulted in Penny being offered a secondment to work with the Victorian Police in Melbourne. 

Another case? Eamon smiled again.

‘Eamon, will you stop smiling like that, and listen.’

‘I am.  Really, I am.’

‘Well, it’s a case where I want you to go undercover, and see what you can find out.’

‘Undercover?  Really?  Yea, great, of course: for how long?’

‘A week.’

‘I’m sure it will be OK with work.  They always said they would give me time off for acting.’

‘You won’t need time off.  This is really just another part of your job.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Running a writers’ workshop.’

‘What!’

‘Running a writers’ workshop.  Eamon, you said you were listening.’

‘But I’m not a writer.’

‘The workshop is to help aspiring young writers by spending a week with them, working with them as an editor would: you’d be showing them ways to become publishable, how to write something well and how to improve it to the point it might get into a magazine, for example.  The things you do at work now.’

‘Oh.’

‘You’ll be at a girls’ school:  one of those expensive schools out in the countryside full of rich young women.’

Well, at least that part sounded enjoyable.

‘When?’

‘You’re booked in for next week.’

‘Penny, have you already organised this?’

‘Of course, and I’ve also spoken to that nice Ian at Condell Street Publishing.  I told him a bit of a white lie; I explained a friend of mine was a teacher at the school, and had asked if I could help her find someone at the last minute to run a writers’ workshop for a group of senior school girls.  It was sort of true.  Anyway, he was delighted.  Said it would be good for you!’

‘Oh.’

‘The school is near Bendigo, and I’ve managed to arrange for you to stay at the Shamrock Hotel for the week.  I’ll be your contact in Bendigo, of course.’

Penny smiled.

‘I could even stay there with you if you like.’

Eamon grinned. ‘I like that place.’

‘I know you do.’

‘Brings back memories of when we first got together.’

‘I know.  Now, stop smirking Eamon, and focus.  Let me explain.’

Penny opened her folder again.

‘Do you remember the Annalisa Moran case?’

‘The girl whose body was found near Kyneton a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Yes.  She’d been kidnapped from her school and her body was found in the Upper Coliban Reservoir.  Well, the local police are nowhere on the case, and it’s been handed over to us.  Dan Wakeland has asked me to head up the investigation, and it was his suggestion you might be helpful.  We can’t find out much about Annalisa at school, and he thought you could run a writers’ workshop - at Shervington Girls’ College - and see what you can learn.’

‘It’s the school where Annalisa Moran was a student?’

‘Yes, and the school from which she was taken.’

‘What happened?’

‘Eamon, we don’t know a lot, which is part of the problem. Annalisa was a boarder at the school.  In fact, her family lives in Bendigo, but Annalisa’s parents travel quite a lot of the time, even spending a month or more in California every year: as a result they had decided the best way for her to complete her schooling was for their daughter to board, which is why she ended up at Shervington.  Annalisa began staying there a couple of years ago:  the boarders live in a building at the back of the school, overlooking a wooded area.’

Penny could see Eamon was now listening very carefully.

‘A couple of weeks ago, on a Wednesday, the 27th May to be precise, it was a frantic time at the school as the senior girls were getting ready for mid-year exams. That night the school’s lights out for senior boarders, including Annalisa, was at the usual time, 10.30 pm.’

‘Light’s out?’

‘Yes, Eamon, they turn the lights off in the boarding school in the belief, or the hope, it will ensure a good night’s sleep.’

‘It makes it sound like a prison.’

Penny sighed.

‘Eamon, please concentrate.  When the students got up the next morning, Annalisa was missing.  There were no signs of a struggle, no one had heard anything, and the police searched all over the school, talked to staff and students, and found nothing to indicate what had happened.  The school hoped she was playing truant, but her body was found the next day when a motorist was driving on the Kyneton-Springhill road on the way to Trentham, and saw a body floating in the reservoir.’

‘How did she die?’

Penny smiled at him.

‘Good question Eamon:  we’ll make a real detective out of you yet!  She died from a dose of heroin, injected into her arm.  The pathologist said the amount of heroin should not have killed her, except she had a heart problem, something it appears was unknown to her or her parents.’

‘A dose given by another person?  Deliberately?’

‘Yes, we think so.  There was some evidence of bruising on her arms, and it’s possible she put up some resistance.  The pathologist thought she had been a drug user, but only an occasional one: from what he could tell it was likely any serious drugs she had taken were only in small quantities, and didn’t find any other needle marks.  She thinks the amount of heroin she was given was meant to frighten her, give her some horrible withdrawal symptoms, but not to kill her.’

‘She was definitely a drug user?’

‘Eamon, the pathologist could only be sure about two things.  First, she had died from a heroin injection which had exacerbated a heart weakness.  Second, there were traces of drugs, mainly marihuana, in her body.  He couldn’t say how often she had used drugs, mild or serious, but he felt the little evidence he had was indicative of recreational drug use.’

‘Anything about the heroin?’

‘Quite the detective, Eamon!  No, nothing can be found that would help us.  The pathologist thought it was pretty pure, but that was all.’

‘I didn’t know nice girls did hard drugs.’

‘Of course nice girls do, Eamon; it’s one of the problems for most schools nowadays.  Usually it’s experimenting, for fun, nothing more.  However, concern over students getting access to drugs is said to be one of the reasons parents choose a school like Shervington College.  It is away from easy temptations, as it is not in the centre of town.  Despite its location, even Shervington will have students who manage get hold of recreational drugs and alcohol, and some will try heroin or cocaine.’

‘But why send me in to carry out a writers’ workshop?’

‘If Annalisa was a user, even if only an occasional one, then she must have been getting heroin while she was at school.  No one is saying how; the teachers claim it wasn’t happening, and none of the students will say anything.  We aren’t getting anywhere.  Dan thought a teacher going in might pick up something.  That’s when he thought of you.’

‘You want me to snoop around?’

‘No, Eamon, absolutely not.  What I want you to do is be yourself, kind, thoughtful, interested.  Just get to know the students in your workshop, and see what pops up.  They’ll all be seniors, and some of them must have been friends with Annalisa.  Something will be said, possibly inadvertently, but something.  Then, before you get into trouble, come back to the hotel and tell me what you’ve learnt!’

‘OK.  Now the plan sounds really good!’

‘Dan wants to meet up with you tomorrow.’

‘Where?’

‘Here.  He’s coming over at 9 am.’

Penny passed the file over to Eamon, who read it through carefully.  There was nothing much there.  Scenes of the body in the reservoir, and then a series of interview statements, all of which added nothing at all to an understanding of what might have happened.  If the statements were to be relied on, Eamon, thought, it was as if an alien had come and removed Annalisa through the wall.

Wide awake now, he turned back to the manuscript he was checking.  Booksellers had been telling him many people were asking for books that helped keep their brains alive and active.  One category was books with outline pictures, which you filled in with coloured paints or pencils, rather like painting by numbers.  It was a category that was definitely not going to be on the list of books published by Condell Street Press. 

However, puzzle books, ‘puzzlers’ was the current name for them, they were a very different matter.  He was keen on publishing a book of tough puzzles.  His test was he had to be able to do them himself, to check they were solvable. 

This one called ‘Einstein’s Puzzle’, and it was a real challenge: five people of different nationalities living in five different houses with five pets, five favourite drinks, and five favourite authors, and just a limited amount of information provided.  Who loved Dickens?  He had to sort it out.

A few minutes later, his head began to nod.

Chapter 2:  Wednesday and Thursday 10-11 June

When the front door bell rang at exactly 9 o’clock, Eamon had only just finished his breakfast.  It had been a late night, and he still hadn’t solved the puzzle.  Opening the door,