Farewell to the Dancing Man

"Not unless the indications were that someone had very strong motives for killing that person. Even then we may never be able to provide enough proof to convince a jury."

"Gee isn't this exciting?" Rebecca could hardly contain herself. "I can see it now, I'll arrive at school tomorrow and literally hundreds of girls will flock around wanting to know all about it."

"You might think that it is exciting but I think it is all just a routine investigation, after some of the more gruesome murders I have had to investigate this one is pretty dull. I remember about a month ago I was called in to investigate a murder involving the victim being killed with a shotgun at close range. The killer cut off the victim's fingers so that we couldn't identify him by his fingerprints and what was left of his face was beyond recognition. I'm used to stuff like this but that particular one turned my stomach."

"I think that will be enough sergeant." Cynthia had a distinctly green tinge to her face that had nothing to do with makeup and Rebecca looked as if she was just about to head for the toilet.

"I wonder what's keeping forensics. Constable would you go for a walk out to the street and see if you can spot a grey Holden that looks as if it's lost. You may have to talk it in just like the control tower at Mascot." Winters shambled slowly out to look for the car containing the forensics team.

"Would you like more coffee?" Cynthia asked.

"No thank you all the same. I will have to train extra hard to work off what I've had already." Brownlow held his hand over his coffee mug to prevent her pouring any more into it.

"What do you train for?" Cynthia asked above the animated chatter of Rebecca on the phone.

"I play league for Manly seconds. I could be in the first team except that I can't guarantee to be able to get to training enough to maintain my place in the team."

"Did you ever wish that you could have made the first team?"

"Sometimes. Glory does have its rewards you know."

"Such as?"

"More money, you get much higher match payments in first grade, and you also get to meet more interesting people and it does have a certain attraction for members of the opposite sex."

"I shouldn't think that you'd have any problems in that regard, would you?"

"I have no complaints."

"I can imagine." Cynthia couldn't believe that she was flirting so openly with this man, she had in the past indulged in minor flirtations with other men in response to their openings, but this was the first time that she had actually initiated the process. It bothered her a little that she should be doing this while at the same time she felt somehow pleased that a younger, but not much, man should be interested enough to fall in with her mood. A mood that she was missing more than she cared to admit, a mood that was very much a part of the early years of her marriage top Peter.

"I don't know what you mean." The note of outraged innocence was a little overdone.

"You know exactly what I mean. You would only have to snap your fingers in a hotel and you could have your pick of the women."

"How true she is, had she been at the Greengate last Friday night?" His mind went back to that night and the pick of the women. She had been attractive, rich, and pliable, and above all there were no strings attached, she hadn't even asked for his phone number saving him the problem of giving her a false one. It was as if she had realised that the sexual attraction and release could not make up for the difference between them, a difference that was further emphasised by the cars in his driveway, his oldish Holden and her new Jaguar.

Brownlow was the first to admit that he was relieved when she had left, after all the last thing he wanted was anything other than a superficial relationship. There were too many fish in the sea and they were all waiting to land him.

Brownlow's reputation among his police colleagues and football mates was such that questions were asked if he saw the same woman twice. It was a reputation that he had taken great pains to cultivate and maintain since joining the police force. He didn't care where he found them as long as he could conveniently lose them when he had finished with them. He had been warned by the Station Sergeant on a couple of occasions for 'pulling' traffic tickets in return for sexual favours.

CHAPTER THREE

Brownlow was still suffering from over-attention when Winters returned with a middle-aged man wearing a grey dustcoat and a distracted expression and a young man sporting a promising beard, an intense expression and a pair of black-rimmed glasses that looked as if they had recently seen service as the bottoms of milk bottles. Winters introduced them as Doctor Pressman the forensic pathologist and Aaron Solomon, a medical student who was planning to specialise in forensic pathology. "We'll Sergeant, what have you got for us today?"

Brownlow led the way to the septic tank. "As you can see we have what appears to be a complete skeleton of a human. From here, and I didn't want to risk disturbing it by getting in there for a closer look, I observed that there did not appear to be any fractures of the visible bones. From the position of the bones it appears that the body was complete at the time it was placed into the tank. I have all that written down in my note book."

"Very good so far. Now I suppose I have to get myself dirty." Freeman actually liked this part of the job, this getting in amongst it and fossicking for evidence, much more interesting than carving up cold clammy cadavers. He donned a pair of fisherman's waders and long rubber gloves, and then gingerly lowered himself into the tank. "Sergeant would you be do kind as to take notes. Mr Solomon would you pass me the items that I will require from time to time when I call for them. Let us commence, preliminary investigation of skeletal remains discovered in disused septic tank on the property situated at number something or other, would you fill in the boring details for me?"

"Position of the bones is with the head towards the northern end of the tank and adjacent to the eastern wall. There are no visible fractures to the skull." He raked some from around the neck. "There is no evidence of fractures to the cervical vertebrae. Could someone get a hose so that I can wash some of this gunk off the body? What about a pump or something to remove some more of this evil brew?"

There was a pause in the festivities while Gerry passed a hose down so that the residue could be flushed off the skeleton. He got into the tank with the nozzle of the sludge pump and moved it around sucking up the remainder of the sludge taking care not to disturb the bones.

When sufficient had been removed the examination continued. "Body was clothed at the time of placement, could I have a specimen bag please?" He carefully probed among the bones with a pair of long tweezers that had emerged from one of the many packets in his coat, picking up several objects. Having satisfied himself that there was little else to be gleaned from this area he sealed the bag and passed it out to Solomon for labelling. "No fractures of the limbs in the thoracic region, I would say that whoever this was did not seem to have met a violent death. Could someone pass me my camera?"

He proceeded to take several shots of the remains and then stood to one side while other shots were taken to establish the skeleton's position in relationship to the rest of the tank. "Mr Solomon, would you pass me that large bag?" He then gathered the bones and placed them carefully into the bag which was then passed out to Solomon for labelling also. "Is there such a thing as a square mouthed shovel?" He asked. One was handed in to him and he scooped up as much of the thick sludge as he could from the immediate vicinity of where the skeleton had been and emptied it into a bucket. After a final look around he clambered out.

"What are you going to do with that?" Danny asked.

"I am going to take it back to the lab and run it through a very fine sieve and see what jumps out at me. He emptied the contents into a plastic container and sealed it.

"When will we be able to finish up here?" Danny asked.

"If you mean fill in the tank, not for a day or two at the very least, we may have to gather more residue for analysis. As for the trench, I can't see why you can't fill it in."

"What do you hope to find in that lot?" Danny asked.

"Probably nothing, but then it's our job to sift through all of the evidence for clues."

"Okay. Come on Gerry there's nothing more that we can do for the time being, you people have our number, if you could get in tough and let us know when we can fill this lot in." Picking up their tools they left.

Pressman pulled off his gloves and waders and threw them to Solomon who turned up his nose as he thrust them into a large plastic bag. Both men picked up the bags, camera and specimens and left. "Could you make sure that nothing's disturbed," Pressman instructed Brownlow, "You will get my full report after I've done my tests, should be in about three days. I'll be in touch if there are any developments important enough to disturb your busy schedule, or if I need anything."

"Okay Sir. Constable, while I ask the lady of the house some questions would you erect a barricade around this tank to prevent interference."

While Winters got a rope from the car and erected the barrier around the tank Brownlow went into the house. "Mrs Swain I wonder if you could answer a few questions?"

"Of course, and please, you can call me Cynthia."

"Very well Mrs Swain." Brownlow said, pointedly ignoring the invitation, "How long have you owned this property?"

"My husband and I bought it, let me see, about6 ten years ago. Yes that would be right, Timothy was about two when we moved in."

"Do you have a copy of the title deeds with the name of the previous owner on it?"

"The deeds are with our important papers in a safe deposit box at our bank. You can get the information from the Land Titles Office."

"I know, I was hoping that you would have them here, the last thing we need is to spend days searching Title Deeds looking for this one. I guess that I could get Constable Winters to spend his afternoon doing a title search, which should keep him out of mischief for a while. Now, has there been any work done on that tank since you've been here?"

"Not that I can remember. Oh we had the usual problems with effluent seepage in the back lawn in winter, but apart from that, the system worked perfectly."

"Do you have any idea how long the previous owners lived here?"

"The owners themselves didn't live here for long at all, he was transferred overseas and they leased the house for some time before he decided to sell it."

"Do you have the address of the previous owner?"

"No, the title Deeds gave the address at the time that we bought it from them, apart from that I can't help you."

"I guess that we can't do anything without those records, thank you for your assistance, I'll be in touch if I need to ask you for anything else. Good-bye Mrs Swain."

"Good-bye Sergeant, could I interest you in another coffee before you go?"

"No thank you very much, I'll have to go on a diet to recover from this morning's hospitality. Good-bye again."

Constable Winters was already in the car when Brownlow got there. "You're going to have her aren't you Sergeant?"

"I don't know what you mean. Brownlow replied in a display of hurt innocence, "Of course I am, she was asking for the whole time I was talking to her, it won't but all that much of a challenge for me, but it'll be fun for a while. She looks as if she'll be pretty good in the sack."

"Isn't he gorgeous?" Rebecca asked Samantha and Belinda as Brownlow drove off. The two friends had arrived and they were sitting in the family room taking in the excitement.

"Yes, for an older man that is." Said Samantha. "He must be ancient, at least thirty-five, but then I adore older men."

"That's not really all that old. If I were to marry him, when I reached sixty he wouldn't even be eighty and at that age that's hardly any difference at all."

"Whatever happened to the plumber that you were going to marry?" Asked Belinda. "I thought that you were in love with him.

"That was until HE came along, he seems so dull in comparison to a real live detective. Can't you picture how thrilling it will be getting all the inside information on all of those scandalous murders and things that happen all the time."

"He wouldn't be able to tell you anything, they have to sign some paper saying that they won't tell anyone anything don't they?" Asked Belinda, just a note of envy in her voice, after all she never had anything this exciting happen to her.

"Don't be silly, I could get him to tell me anything I want."

"How?" Both Samantha and Belinda were curious.

"There are ways that a woman can use to get information."

"What sort of ways?"

"You know, women's ways, you really are immature you know."

"I bet you don't even know what you're talking about."

"I do so too. You get them all excited and when they're about to put their thing in your whatsit you ask them. They're so worked up that they'll tell you anything just so that they can get it in."

"Listen to Miss Smartypants Rebecca, I bet that you're still a virgin."

"I am not so too."

"Not what?" Cynthia had entered the room at the tail end of the conversation.

"Nothing Mum." Rebecca replied demurely.

"What do you girls plan to do for the rest of the day now that the excitement seems to have died down?"

Rebecca was saved from answering by the sound of the front door bell. Cynthia answered it to be confronted by a television outside broadcast crew. "Good morning, Mrs Swain is it? I'm Jeffrey Roberts, I'm the outside broadcast producer for the Channel 9 news. I understand that a skeleton was discovered in your back yard. Would it be possible for us to have a look around and get some footage?"

"I really don't know. The police don't want anything disturbed."

"You just leave the police to us, we're used to this sort of thing and know what we can and can't touch. Would it also be possible for you to answer a few questions?"

"I really don't know a great deal about it."

"I do! I saw the men discover it." Rebecca interrupted.

"And who might you be?"

"I'm Rebecca Swain. It was ever so exciting, I was sitting down in the breakfast room watching the workmen pumping out the old septic tank when one of them looked inside and yelled out to the other one to come over and have a look. The second man came up to the house and it was me who answered the door and told him where the phone was."

"That's fine dear, we'll come back to your story after we finish filming down at the tank." The TV crew traipsed out into the back garden and proceeded to completely ignore the ropes that the police had erected around the tank in order to set up their camera to the best advantage.

"I'm going to be on TV! Won't the kids at school be envious! Sam, Belinda, isn't this simply the most fabulous day of your life?" Rebecca was jumping up and down in excitement.

"Calm down young lady, they may not even use your interview." Cynthia said.

"That's right!" Belinda added, "You remember when Jane's brother was killed in Vietnam and those television people spent forever interviewing her and the rest of her family? Well, they filmed Jane for positively hours and didn't show any of it. She was devastated, especially after the fuss she made at school."

"That was horrible for her, she had everyone watching the programme and not one mention of her. I would have killed myself if I were in her position." Said Samantha.

"I'm not going to make the same mistake as she did. Anyway it'll be on tonight's news and as I won't be at school today I can hardly tell everyone, can I? I'll just act as if it was an everyday thing when I get to school."

The TV crew finished shooting their outside footage and trooped back inside to set up their lighting and sound equipment, tracking foul smelling mud through the room. Cynthia visibly cringed at the damage that was being done to the polished parquetry floor. "Now Rebecca isn't it? Can you sit on that settee with your mother? Fine. How's the light Jeff? What if we were to turn the settee around so that it faced the door? No? You want the pile of dirt behind them so that you can focus on it for emphasis from time to time, Okay, you're the producer."

When all of the fine tuning was complete the interview commenced. "Early this morning a human skeleton was found in the septic tank at the home of Mr and Mrs Swain in Wahroonga. The police were called in and are currently investigating what they say could be a murder. With me is Mrs Cynthia Swain and her daughter Rebecca who were on hand when the discovery was made. Tell me Mrs Swain, what was your first reaction when you heard the news?"

"At first I didn't believe it, not at first, and then I went down and had a look for myself. It was eerie, there was this skull looking up at me from the bottom of the tank."

"What about you Rebecca?"

"Well," said Rebecca trying to sound as mature and sophisticated as possible, "I knew that something important was happening right from the very beginning. The workmen were running around everywhere. Then one of them came up to the house babbling something about the police, so I showed him where the phone was and stood by while he rang. When he told me that they had found a skeleton I was intrigued, but Daddy wouldn't let me go down and have a look."

"Then what happened?"

"Well, these two policemen arrived and went down to have a look, and then another two came. One of these actually got into the tank and brought out the skeleton and a lot of other stuff. Then they packed up and left."

"That'll be fine thank you. This is Andrew Wendelbourne reporting from suburban Wahroonga where earlier today the grisly skeletal remains of a person were found in an old septic tank."

"Cut! That's a wrap. Pack up guys we're finished here."

The crew packed up all their equipment and trooped out, leaving Cynthia staring at the mess that they had made of the floor. "Rebecca, will you give me a hand to clean up this mess?"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes you do. You were the one who wanted to stay at home today so you can help to clean up the mess."

"All right." Rebecca said reluctantly. "I won't be long." She said to Samantha and Belinda.

"We'll you, won't we Sam." Belinda volunteered.

"Oh sure, what do we do?"

"There's a bucket and mop in the laundry, fill the bucket with water and put some detergent into it then mop the floor with it." While the girls went off to get the mop and bucket Cynthia picked up the phone and dialled the police number that Brownlow had given her. "Hello, could I speak to Sergeant Brownlow?"

"Who can I say is calling?"

"Mrs Swain."

"His line is busy, will you hold?"

"Yes, I'll hold."

The switchboard operator dialled Brownlow's extension. "Hey Brownlow, one of your lady friends is on the line, said her name's Swain."

"Put her on."

"Putting you through now." Cynthia was told.

"Hello, Sergeant Brownlow?"

"Yes."

"Cynthia here."

"Cynthia?"

"Yes Cynthia, Cynthia Swain from this morning."

"Mrs Swain, what can I do for you?"

"I thought that you should know that a television news team was just here and I'm afraid that they trampled around the tank."

"Who was it?"

"Andrew Wendelbourne."

"Shit!"

"Really Sergeant, I didn't expect that sort of language from you."

"Sorry, it's just that he has no respect for the police and would never left a cordon get in the way of a story. I'd better come out and check it out. Would two o'clock be alright?"

"Yes that will be fine, I'll see you then. Bye."