Disappear Read Online Free PDF Page A

time.’
    Lachlan took a closer look over the body. He noticed the label on the man’s trousers - StyleSet. They’d been a successful and trendy label for some years, but had gone bust at least fifteen years earlier. Lachlan knew because he’d had some StyleSet gear himself.
Funny the things you remember. Way out of date now.
He’d worn that style in the days when he’d met Marcia. Reminiscing again.
Enough.
He pushed the thoughts of the past from his mind.
    ‘I want you to include in your report the make and year of manufacture of the victim’s clothing,’ Lachlan told the forensic man.
    ‘Sure,’ Baldwin said. ‘Unusual request.’
    ‘I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a day for ‘em,’ Lachlan commented. ‘There’s something weird about this body.’
    ‘How’s that?’
    ‘His driver’s licence is more than a decade out of date. His pants label is just as old but these trousers aren’t all that worn.’
    ‘Nostalgia buff or maybe he was going to a retro party,’ Baldwin said drily, ‘some guys take that shit very seriously.’
    Lachlan couldn’t have missed the cynicism in Baldwin’s tone. Another forensic cop who’d seen too many strange and wonderful things to be surprised any more. Neil Lachlan had come across a few of those. ‘Maybe,’ he replied. He’d always made a point of exhaustive investigation of any and every small detail that puzzled him during a case. He’d been known for it throughout his years in the Drug Squad. Homicide work was no different in that regard. The license and the clothing simply didn’t make sense.
    Crayfield approached. ‘An old fellow phoned in to alert us to the body. I’ve got his statement.’
    ‘He’s gone?’
    ‘Yeah. He was pretty distressed so I sent him home. The boy over there was first on the scene.’
    They strode over to where the boy, wide-eyed, had been watching the action.
    ‘Hello, mate. What’s your name?’ Lachlan asked.
    ‘Rodney Harrison.’
    ‘I’m Detective Senior Sergeant Lachlan.’
    The boy eyed him suspiciously. He saw a tall, lanky man, broad shouldered, with sharply etched features, a lived-in face, a wide grin. ‘Why haven’t you got a uniform?’ was the first thing that came to Rodney’s mind.
    ‘Because I’m a plain clothes detective from the Homicide Division.’
    ‘Really?’ The boy sounded incredulous.
    ‘Yes. I am.’ Lachlan cocked his head towards the spot where the body lay. It was now being removed, draped in a cover. ‘This must have been quite a shock for you, son.’
    ‘Shock? Well, yeah.’
    ‘Are you feeling all right? Nothing to be ashamed of if you’re not.’
    ‘Oh no, I’m fine. It was real cool finding a dead body. Just like in the movies. I mean, it’s not so cool for the man, not really but …’
    ‘I know what you mean, Rodney. Not the sort of thing that happens every day.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Why don’t you let me stick your bike in the boot and I’ll drive you home?’
    ‘In the police car?’
    ‘Yes. In the police car.’
    The boy’s excitement was obvious. ‘All right!’
    Lachlan was certain his own boy would have reacted in just the same way. He placed his hand on Rodney Harrison’s shoulder and walked with him to the car.
    The plaques lining the reception area wall were a chronology of success. Australian Excellence In Fashion Awards from various intervals over the past ten years. The carpet was a burgundy plush pile, the walls a montage of pastel shades and strips of polished redwood oak that matched the reception desk. Cindy Lawrence swept past the area and along the adjoining corridor to Jennifer Parkes’ office.
    Jennifer was at her desk, returning her phone to its hook. ‘That was Freddie Jamieson at Myers,’ she said, ‘he’s just ordered ten thousand of the new range of
Bellisimo!
skirts and tops.’
    ‘Great,’ Cindy enthused.
    ‘Don’t say great, say when.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘By the end of the month.’
    ‘Impossible.’
    ‘Since when did we