‘All clear,’ the police announced and left the crematorium.
Eliza wheeled herself inside right up to the casket.
She placed a hand on the polished wood and tried to connect with the man she thought she knew better than herself.
Had his life been one giant lie? Part of her wanted to hate him for leaving her without an explanation, or even the chance to say goodbye. If he had met her one last time, how could she have believed anything he had to say, knowing everything up until now was a lie?
Anger surged through Eliza’s veins and her heart accelerated. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. Air. She needed to get outside and get some air.
She moved and felt something dig into her thigh. A plastic specimen tube had dropped into her chair. She picked it up and thought of what Craig had asked her.
Did her father have any tattoos or skin lesions removed?
The last time she’d seen him was in the city office. He’d spilled tea on his shirt and changed before a meeting. He always wore a white Bonds singlet underneath. She thought back. His skin was pale to the elbows and tanned below the level of his sleeves. There were definitely no lesions, marks or scars on his upper arms.
Eliza took a series of slow, deep breaths, counting to four with every exhalation. The heart flutter slowed and she was finally able to speak.
She glared at Johnny, who was blessing himself in the entrance. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. ‘I am so sorry, but we had good –’
‘Tell me what Darlene saw. Inside the …’
He took a step towards her. ‘A mark that didn’t appear natural. I mean it didn’t look like a fish –’
She wheeled closer. ‘Tell me exactly what it was.’
He seemed to hesitate.
‘I’m sick of being protected. Lied to. Tell me the truth, Johnny.’
‘It looked like a wide section of skin had been excised.’ He pointed to the outer, upper part of his left arm. ‘About here.’
‘Why did Darlene sample it?’
‘To see if it was done before death. Microscopy would show if it had healed.’
Eliza spun around and raced out the doors. When she realised Johnny was still behind, she held up the specimen.
‘Are we going to get this to Private or not?’
Chapter 112
MARY PICKED ME up from the police station. I was escorted out the front of the building to run the media gauntlet. Public humiliation was part of the punishment for trying to stop a cover-up, it seemed. I just hadn’t figured out who was directly involved.
My lawyer had hoped to label me a whistleblower who would be legally protected from prosecution. The problem was, we were only protected if we actually worked for the government institution we were trying to expose. Laws recently passed under the guise of anti-terrorist measures were more likely to bury whistleblowers. It also gave secret agencies unprecedented powers without scrutiny or recourse.
That worried me more than charges pending for interfering with a body. If Eric Moss’s corpse had been substituted – either while still in the water or while in the morgue – someone had wanted him cremated quickly and with few questions asked. The ambassador’s cronies could have murdered Moss with impunity, if he’d offended or compromised the US government. The question was whether the Australian government was involved as well. What was Lang Gillies’s involvement? It would explain the rush to funeral service and cremation.
The other possibility was that Moss was still alive and managed to somehow fake his death. But that meant he needed access to a body, or killed a man to take his place.
With police and authorities satisfied the case was closed and would remain that way, there was little chance of getting to the truth.
On top of that, I’d just put a giant target on Private Sydney’s back.
Mary brought the car around and I climbed into the passenger seat, unable to forget the horror on Eliza’s face as we broke into the coffin. Jack Morgan’s intel had to be accurate. But I’d never be able to prove it.
Mark Talbot had realised this was far bigger than any of us knew.
Mary dropped me outside Private’s building and I headed inside. Collette greeted me with a long hug.