Black Mountain (4 page)

‘Then let her know I'll be happy to have her oils again when they're ready. I prefer hers to the ones from Evert's Suppliers. I swear that in the batch before last, the lavender essential oil had been cut. I've been in this game long enough to know pure hundred percent oil from an inferior one. I sent it back and they replaced it, making an excuse, but that's not the point.' She screwed up her face. ‘Talking of which, I had a surprise visit from them on Saturday, both Carl and Marie Evert.'

‘Oh really? It's not all that long since they were in Cairns, is it? I wonder what brought them all the way up here again so soon.'

‘They've got a new wax they wanted to demonstrate, and left me a sample. But I had the impression they were in Cairns for more than that. I can't imagine them coming up from Sydney just for that. I can only suppose they must be trying to push all their products into more salons. I know for a fact that he tries to pressure the younger girls up here into taking his range. I don't really like their way of doing business, but I need the supplies for the salon.'

‘Of course you do.' Elly looked at her watch. ‘And now I must fly.'

‘Okay. Don't forget to call in to say hello when you're down here.'

With a promise to do so, Elly left and made her way back to the apartment.

As Elly scrutinised the man who filled her doorway a little later, thinking that he seemed much larger than she remembered, she realised he was also assessing her.

‘Well hello,' he greeted her. ‘It's little Elly Cooper herself, all grown up. I was expecting to see your mother.'

Elly was annoyed by his choice of words, but she stood back to let him enter. ‘No, she's gone home. She had things to do. You'd better come in.'

Mitchell Beaumont stepped a few paces into the room and looked around. ‘Nice,' he said, nodding as his eyes scanned the room, giving her a chance to look at him properly.

He'd grown up too—he no longer looked the young boy she'd had a crush on when they were in high school. Three years ahead of her and captain of the cricket team, she was surprised he remembered she even existed. His rugged good looks, dark hair and eyes, square jaw, and steady eyes that hinted at a determined nature, at an age when most youths were gawky and pimply, had made him a target for many girls' adulation. It was accepted he could have his pick of the girls for the school dances so he always had a date, but he was most often seen with Tracy Dunlop, a pretty blond girl in the same year as him who had earned the nickname of ‘Fancy Pants', although no-one was quite sure how that had come about. Mitchell's main interest, though, had always seemed to be in cricket.

He looked somehow more severe now, some seven years on, and she noticed small creases around his eyes, but he was still striking, even though he now walked with a slight limp.

‘Live here alone, do you?' he asked, swinging around to face her.

His words brought her back to the present.

‘Mum stays here when she comes down to Cairns,' she told him, ‘but apart from that, yes.'

‘So, you've got yourself into a bit of trouble, I understand?'

Elly frowned. ‘I don't know if that's how I'd put it, but I've had something stolen. My father's journal that held his research. I kept it here because I've been using it in my own research.'

‘And you think it's been taken by a man you've been having a relationship with. Is that right?'

Elly's head jerked back in annoyance. No way was she going to admit they had been on the brink of becoming lovers. It hadn't happened. ‘No, that is not right,' she said emphatically. ‘He was a friend, nothing more.'

‘Then you'd better tell me the whole story.'

Elly seated herself in one of the chairs, gesturing for Mitchell to do the same, and related exactly what had happened.

‘Hmm. And did you actually show him your father's journal?'

‘No. I didn't even mention it specifically. I just said his work was safe here with me.'

‘Rather naive of you to let a stranger know the whereabouts of something so valuable.'

Elly bristled. ‘He wasn't a stranger.'

‘How long had you known him? Six weeks?'

‘About that,' she snapped.

‘I call that a stranger—when it involves your father's life work.'

Elly stood up from her chair and looked down at him, feeling heat suffusing her face. ‘I don't need you to tell me whether I've done right or wrong. I just need you to find my father's journal.'

Mitchell looked up at her, quite unperturbed by the outburst.

‘It seems to me that first we need to find this Jackson Lee. Or at least find out what he's up to. Did he impersonate a Qantas pilot just to impress you? Or did he somehow know more about your father and his work? Or is he a conman who just took advantage of an opportunity when it presented itself? And where is he now?'

Elly took a deep breath. He was quite right, no use being angry with him, but why did he make her feel like a schoolgirl again—silly and not very effective? She sat down and swallowed before she spoke again, lifting her chin.

‘Yes, of course. That's what's needed. But how?

‘Do you have a photo of him?'

‘He never liked to have his photo taken, he always made excuses, but I do have a shot of him on my phone. I took it once when he was ordering coffee at the counter. I was taking some shots of the Esplanade and I don't think he knew I'd taken him as well.'

‘Good girl, let's have a look.'

She got up from her chair and retrieved the phone from her bag, then scrolled through until she found what she wanted and handed the phone to Mitchell.

‘That's him, at the counter. It's not a very good photo but you can see what he looks like.'

Mitchell studied the image. ‘Yes. Can you get me a copy of this?'

‘Yes.' Elly nodded as she took the phone from him. ‘I'll download it onto my laptop.'

Mitchell fished in his pocket and pulled out a USB stick. ‘Can you copy it onto this for me, and also print out a copy as well?'

‘Sure.' She took the stick across to her desk, and fired up her laptop. When she had printed a copy and put another on the USB stick, she came back and handed them both to Mitchell.

He put the stick in his pocket and scrutinised the printed copy, then smiled down at her as he stood. ‘Well done. We can identify him from this.'

Elly was cross with herself for feeling a flash of pleasure at his praise. After all, he was just here to do a job for them. He was nothing to her these days.

‘You never went with him to where he lived, you said, so I don't suppose he ever gave you an address, did he?'

‘Not really. He said he lived in Abbott Street, but he was vague about where.'

‘Okay. Were there places you used to go regularly with him, where he might be remembered?'

‘The coffee shop on the Esplanade where I took that photo, and another one near the library, and we went to
Damari's
a few times for an Italian meal, but I don't know if he went there at other times.'

‘Well, that's a start. I'll begin making enquiries straight away.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘Take the photo and see if I can find him, or someone who knows him, anywhere in Cairns.'

‘You mean you're going to walk around Cairns looking for him?'

‘Basically, yes. To start with. Hard slog, but often effective.'

‘Then I'll come with you.'

Frowning, Mitchell shook his head. ‘No, not necessary.'

‘But I know him. I'll know straight away by looking round if he's in a place or not. We might catch him right away. Quicker than with you showing people his photo and asking about him. Although you can still do that as well, of course.'

He pursed his lips as he regarded her for a few seconds.

‘All right,' he said abruptly. ‘Better put on your walking shoes. You'll be doing a lot of it.'

Chapter 6

Two hours later, when they had visited the places Elly had mentioned where she'd been with Jackson, and a score more, she was beginning to realise that sleuthing was hard work. So when Mitchell paused at still another coffee shop on the Esplanade and suggested that this time they should stop for coffee themselves, Elly was happy to agree, and she took a seat at a table inside. While he went to the counter to order, and to show Jackson's photo to the barista, she looked around. The café was about half full and she checked the occupants of each table, although by this time she had just about given up hope they might be lucky enough to stumble across Jackson in their search.

‘No luck?' she asked as Mitchell returned to the table, slipping the photo into his top pocket as he sat down.

He shook his head. ‘No. 'Fraid not.'

‘Not in here either. But I've seen something I find interesting, though it's nothing to do with Jackson.'

‘Yes?' He raised his brows.

‘Yes. In that far corner—' she tilted her head in the direction, ‘—three people are having coffee and a deep conversation. The couple are Carl and Marie Evert, who came from America a few years ago, and made inroads into the cosmetic industry here. He used to be head chemist at one of the big cosmetic manufacturers in the USA and they came here to produce their own range of skincare. They sell it to salons throughout Australia, including here in Cairns. Marie has her own salon and is on the committee of the beauty therapist's association. The interesting thing is they're sitting with Greg Talbot, another beauty products distributor. They're business rivals, and they've never been on friendly terms. In fact, I overheard Carl and Greg having a blazing row at the last trade show. But now they seem thick as thieves.' Elly lifted a shoulder. ‘Strange, that's all.'

‘Do you know them?'

‘Yes, in the beauty industry everyone knows everyone.'

‘Can you tell me anything more about them?'

‘Why? They wouldn't have anything to do with Jackson Lee. Or with my father's missing journal.'

‘Anyone connected to the beauty business is of interest just now. What do you know about Greg Talbot?'

‘Well, he hasn't always been in the industry. Rumour has it his parents left him a lot of money and he spent heaps living extravagantly, and was a bit of a playboy. Then as the money was getting low he bought the
Ecstasy
skincare range, and a make-up range. The skincare's not a great product, but the make-up is okay, and the girl he has working for him is very good, so he gets by. It's a coincidence they're all here at the same time, as there's nothing special happening in Cairns at the moment.' Elly gave her head a little shake. ‘Still, it's business, I suppose, and has nothing to do with us. We have more important things to do.'

Elly waited as the waitress arrived with their coffees and placed them on the table, then looked at Mitchell enquiringly as she stirred sugar into her cup. ‘So what's next? Abbott Street?'

‘Without having some idea of where in Abbott Street it's almost impossible to check such a long and busy street. If he was being evasive he chose the perfect street. He never mentioned anything to indicate where?'

‘No, he just said it was a hole-in-the-wall to sleep in between flights.'

‘We know now that wasn't true, but you never queried him about it?'

‘No, I had no reason to.'

‘You didn't think it was strange he never invited you to his place, although he came often to yours?'

‘No, why should I?'

‘It seems rather foolhardy that you took him at face value and invited him into your home without bothering to check him out at all. But I suppose his Canadian charm blinded you.'

Elly felt another surge of annoyance. How dare he lecture her? ‘No such thing! He's … he seemed just an ordinary nice guy. We were friends, that's all.'

‘Must have been good friends. Good enough to go away for the weekend with him.'

‘We were just a group of friends going for a weekend trip, that's all.'

‘When a woman goes away for a weekend with a man it usually means they're more than just friends.' His eyes bored into her. ‘Were you sleeping with him?'

Elly banged her cup down, slopping coffee into the saucer. ‘No, I wasn't! Not that it's any of your bloody business.'

‘Don't get upset. I just like to get the full picture, that's all,' Mitchell responded in an infuriatingly calm voice. ‘It can change the motivation behind a person's actions.'

‘Well, you've got it.' She took a deep breath. ‘So, what are you going to do next?'

‘We'll go about it another way. As he's not an Australian he had to go through immigration when he entered the country. With this photo we should be able to trace him.'

‘Can you do that?'

‘Yes. Although I'm not in the police force now I still have contacts. There's enough time left this afternoon to get on to it, and hopefully I'll have some news for you tomorrow. I'll be around first thing in the morning.'

‘I'm going to the farm early tomorrow.'

‘Even better. I need to see your mother, so I'll see you up there during the morning.'

As they both stood Elly was wishing she need never see him again, but she knew he was the only hope they had of finding Jackson and, hopefully, regaining the journal.

The next morning Elly set off early. The weather promised a hot day ahead, but so early in the day the temperature was a comfortable twenty degrees and she left the air conditioner off and rolled down the windows. It was September, and many of the tourists were now heading south, back to their homes now that their own weather was warming up, and anxious not to miss the football finals or the opening of the bowls season, or simply to start watering their gardens again. So most of the traffic she met was going in the opposite direction.