Cold Hard Murder (Philippa Barnes mysteries 3)

By Trish McCormack

The darkness felt tangible. Like it was pressing against my blind eyes ... We were going to die here. Slowly, slowly.

Two people struggle on a ledge high above the surge pool at Punakaiki’s Pancake Rocks. One falls to their death, beginning a sequence of violence as Department of Conservation ranger Matt Grey announces plans for a commercial tourism venture bitterly opposed by the local community. More people die, and it seems their murders are motivated by something more personal than a threat to the integrity of the national park. But the trail is as cold and twisted as some of the park’s most labyrinthine caves. Philippa Barnes is asked to do some unofficial sleuthing, which is not welcomed by the police. She delves into the lives of some strong-willed individuals, many of whom have secrets, uncovering a dark story that resonates with events in her own life. But caught in a desperate struggle deep underground, has she run out of time to stop a determined killer?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trish McCormack
• Release date: Feb 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9780473319175

Trish McCormack

Wellington archivist and former journalist Trish McCormack grew up in Franz Josef. Her Philippa Barnes crime novels, including Ngaio Marsh Awards nominated Cold Hard Murder, are set in South Island national parks. Her book Jack's Journey is based on the letters of a great uncle killed in the First World War. Girl of the Mountains is Trish's fourth novel.

Book preview

COLD HARD

MURDER

A Philippa Barnes Mystery

Trish McCormack

Copyright 2016 Trish McCormack

Smashwords edition

ISBN 978-0-473-31917-5

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. The story, characters and names portrayed in this work are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real people and events is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To Cecilia Edwards

Great friend of my writing and myself alike –

with memories of some eventful years in Hokitika, and in appreciation of the inspiring conversations that continue to the present day

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Author's Note

Acknowledgements

Other books by Trish McCormack

Connect with Trish McCormack

Prologue

November 2014

The runner froze.

What was that?

Nothing. Just the crackle of flax blades in the fierce wind.

Rain and sea spray. Soaking. Blinding.

The limestone pancake-like stacks seemed to move in the dusk. The sea roared through fissures in the rocks. Spray surged out of the Chimney Pot Blowhole and drenched the track.

The runner paused high above the surge pool. It was good to be out on this ledge of twisted rock.

The surge pool was large and symmetrical with sheer rock sides, right in the centre of the pancake stacks. There was an arch under one edge where the Tasman Sea pounded through.

Running usually helped diminish all cares, but not this time. Who would have thought that two people so intimately connected to that long-buried event would end up here in Punakaiki? But it had happened. And it had proved impossible to talk through. How could you reason with someone like that?

That horrible night. It had been annoying, humiliating and just so wrong.

But not frightening.

Not until now.

The runner whipped round. Footsteps – but nobody was there.

Something glowed on the lip of the pool. A discarded Coke can. Jumping over the safety rail, the runner bent to pick it up.

A harsh laugh.

The face of the nightmare.

Clawing fingers tightening round the neck.

Choking, thrashing limbs. Stone rasping against skin.

The pair of them rolling in a gruesome embrace on the edge of the chasm.

Scratching, grabbing, shoving.

Then one of them losing their grip and flailing wildly, tumbling backwards. Down those sheer sides, through the sea spray.

Screaming.

The other scrambled back to safety, panting.

Gazed down.

Saw a body sprawled face-down on rock. Water surged around but did not reach it.

No movement.

No one could have planned it.

Such symmetry.

Another place. Another time.

And now this.

It was so perfect it was unreal. The edges blurred and the water changed as salt vanished. Shapes merged. Those eyes. Sparkling, entreating.

So close now …

Eventually the watcher turned away. And started to whistle.

Chapter 1

Six weeks earlier

‘Well, sooner you than me, Philippa,’ said Tom.

I smiled at my brother. It felt strange to be back. Back, but not quite home. I was in Hokitika, jaded after my long flight to New Zealand from London.

‘Where’s Kate?’ I asked.

Tom shrugged. ‘She’s never home early. I don’t know what she does after school. I’m not usually here myself.’

‘So why do you think it’s going to be a problem? Working in Punakaiki, I mean?’

‘You’ve read the paper, haven’t you?’ my brother replied. ‘It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be much fun there.’

‘I have to work somewhere.’

Neither of us said anything for a while. I glanced around the big living room that had been home for the last year to Tom and our young sister Kate – not to mention Spree, our giant schnauzer, who was sprawled in his purple beanbag, looking as if he’d never put a paw wrong in his life. Tom didn’t have my talent for clutter. The room was tidy, books sat neatly on the coffee table, and there were no empty coffee mugs or plates full of toast crumbs anywhere to be seen. I wondered how he’d managed to get Kate in line. She’d been as slack as me when we’d been living together.

I got up and stretched, then walked over to the window, gazing out on the grey sands and even greyer Tasman Sea. It was a flat kind of day.

So here I was, home after a year of travelling, a glacier guide without a glacier. The Franz Josef was still there – but my job wasn’t. Warm winters meant less snow in the mountains, and this in turn meant less ice for the glacier. It had shrunk away from its rock walls, and the combination of broken ice and falling rock had all but closed down glacier guiding. My former boss had temporarily closed his business and gone overseas with his wife. They – and our jobs – would be back one day, we hoped, but in the meantime we all needed to find other things to do with our lives.

I’d been lucky. Sara Kennedy, who had worked with me as a glacier guide in Franz, was now working for the Department of Conservation – commonly known as DOC – in Paparoa National Park. Her boss, Anna Reeves, needed track maintenance staff, and Sara had put my name forward. As a result Anna offered me a few months’ employment. It had sounded great but she’d been demoted and her job as head ranger given to a guy who sounded as if he was coming in to make some big changes in the park. Matt Grey was on a career track, planning to give it a good shake-up, according to the Greymouth Star.

I hoped my job was still there. I had done casual work overseas but travel had eaten away most of my savings.

Conflict between the conservation department and the local community was nothing new to me. It wasn’t going to be a problem. I’d put my head down, earn some money and get back to my old life as soon as I could.

Tom and I talked about my trip but I wasn’t relaxed. I needed to know that Kate was okay – with herself and me.

After a while, Spree leapt out of his beanbag and hurled himself at the door. Kate was home.

We stared at one another for a moment, then Kate flung herself into my arms. My eyes filled with tears as I hugged my volatile and challenging little sister. I hadn’t felt good about leaving her but I’d needed to get away from Franz for a while and Tom was an excellent substitute for me. She hadn’t communicated much while I was gone even though I’d emailed her often, and I wondered if she was angry. It didn’t look like it but I knew better than to assume all was well.

Kate’s dark hair was much longer now and she had grown taller. Something had changed in her face as well – for the first time I saw a hint of our mother in her features. She wasn’t a little girl any more but a striking teenager. She and I were superficially alike with thick, dark hair and the same slim build but she was more attractive. Her facial features were finer, her eyes darker, but there was more to it than that. Something about the way she moved perhaps.

‘When are we going to get our house back?’ she asked.

I smiled. ‘Next month. The tenants are moving out, then we can move back in.’

‘So why’re you going to Punakaiki? Why not stay here with us?’

‘Because I need some cash. You remember Sara? She’s managed to get me a job doing track work for DOC for a couple of months.’

‘I can’t believe you’re going to work for DOC!’

I winced. Given my attitude to the conservation department, which had been more than shared with my sister, I could see why this seemed like high treason. That had been Franz, when I was glacier guiding and had come up against the bureaucracy of the department; this was Punakaiki, where I had no position to defend – but it was an uncomfortable shift all the same. My sister hadn’t lost her knack of finding my weak spots.

‘I know what you mean – but I really need the money. Our guiding company’s not reopening till next year. If then, given the glacier access problems. You know what it’s like down there at the moment.’

Kate didn’t look convinced but didn’t pursue it, turning her attention to the fridge.

As she prepared herself a snack Tom and I reverted to our conversation about overseas travel. I’d met up with some of his friends in Cornwall, and we talked about them while Kate sat on the floor sharing her food with Spree.

‘Do you want to come up to Punakaiki next weekend?’ I asked her. ‘I can pick you up from school.’

Kate gave me a cool look. ‘Don’t know. I might have stuff on. You know something, Philippa? I reckon going there could be a big mistake.’

…

It was a rainy afternoon in Greymouth and I wasn’t feeling all that cheerful.

I shuffled impatiently in the supermarket queue, watching as a harassed woman snatched a chocolate bar off her toddler and slammed it back onto the shelf. Predictably the child started to cry. No one seemed happy. It wasn’t just me.

As I drove out of the town towards the rain-shrouded Paparoas I wondered what my brother would do now I was home. Would he want to go back travelling? And if so, what could I find to do in Hokitika where Kate was at high school? And how would we get on living together again? I’d found it hard to part from Kate but I had enjoyed my time alone, out in the world.

I didn’t like the sound of Matt Grey. A career-driven person bent on change was never good news, in my cynical opinion. Tom had told me he was a West Coaster, which was disturbing. Being a local he’d know how things worked. I’d seen many a hapless national park bureaucrat stymied by a lack of understanding of the subversive way they could function. Matt Grey would know all the tricks.

As I drove onto the coast road I started to feel better. The sea was wild and grey, smashing foam onto the shore, while flax-covered rock outcrops stood firm against the tide. Time and storms had eroded and sculpted them into the twisted shapes that made the coastline so spectacular. The rain came down harder and wind lashed my ancient Toyota. I relaxed my mind and gave myself over to the view.

Punakaiki, a straggle of grey-looking buildings semi-obscured by luxuriant bush, was hunkered down against the rain, and I sprinted across the car park and under the verandah of the National Park Visitor Centre. Anna Reeves had asked me to meet her there so she could take me to the bach I would be renting.

She came out to greet me, grimacing at the rain.

We assessed one another for a moment.

She was tall, with dark hair cut in a layered bob. Her face was thin and tanned, and she was dressed in drab DOC trousers and shirt. She wore a plaited leather bracelet on her right wrist but no other jewellery. ‘Great to meet you, Philippa. I’ve heard a lot about you from Sara.’

I smiled. ‘I can imagine.’ Sara had been in Franz when I got myself caught up in a murder enquiry.

Anna laughed. ‘I don’t imagine we’ll have any murders for you here – unless someone takes it into their head to get rid of my replacement. You’re arriving at an interesting time.’

‘I’ve heard a few things about him. He sounds a real charmer.’

‘That’s one word for him,’ Anna said. ‘The story in the Greymouth Star has all the locals up in arms. But you don’t want to hear about all that quite yet. You don’t need to get involved in the politics. I rather envy you actually. Track work sounds like heaven to me right now.’

I glanced out at the rain and laughed. ‘You know what, I think you’re right – rain and all. I had my share of DOC politics when I was in Franz.’

‘Yeah, it’s not always fun. Though if you get a decent relationship going with the community it can be okay. Things have been good here – well, from my point of view anyway.’ Anna paused. I thought she was going to say more but she turned away and reached for a well-worn raincoat.

‘Do you do much tramping?’ I asked as we ran towards my car.

‘As much as I can. I love the Coast.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Christchurch originally, but I haven’t lived there for a long time. I’ve been working in national parks for about 15 years – here for the last two. This is a great little park to work in. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’

I cleared the clutter from the passenger seat and Anna climbed in beside me.

‘Lucy James owns your bach. I’ve got her bank details for you. She’s not worried about a bond, just start paying the rent after your first pay and she’ll be happy. She’s got a lifestyle block down the road. You’ll meet her soon and I think you’ll like her. The bach is small but it’s got everything you’ll need.’

‘Where is Sara living?’ I asked.

‘She’s renting a bach in the village too – but she’s away till next week. She’s really looking forward to having you here,’ Anna said.

‘I’m keen to see her too. She sounds happy, judging by her emails.’

‘That’s good. She’s a great worker but it’s hard to know how she feels about things. She never talks about her life.’

I smiled. It didn’t sound as if Sara had changed.

We drove down into the village, and I glanced up at the imposing limestone cliffs that leaned out high above the straggly line of houses. As we turned into a narrow, muddy driveway, a small, brown weatherboard bach came into view, semi-obscured by large hydrangea bushes. I opened the car door and savoured the roar of the sea.

I smiled at Anna. ‘I’m going to love it here.’

She smiled back but something in her expression made me wonder if she was worried; she had shadows under her eyes. She fumbled in her coat pocket and pulled out a key tied onto a loop of yellow wool. The lock was stiff and Anna cursed under her breath as she jiggled the key in it. Meanwhile the rain beat down on our heads, so when the door finally opened we stepped inside with some relief. We were in a living room-cum-kitchen. I was pleased to see the log burner with a big basket of wood beside it. The furniture was old but comfortable, there was a shelf of books against one wall, and large windows faced out onto a lawn ringed with native bush. There was no view of the sea but it was clearly audible inside the bach.

‘Okay, I’ll leave you to it,’ Anna said. ‘You realise that cell phone coverage is pretty erratic here? You often have to go up the road south of the Pancake Rocks to get a signal. There’s no landline either – I hope that’s not going to be a problem?’

I laughed. ‘My phone spends most of its life either turned off or with a flat battery. I won’t miss it at all.’

Anna smiled. ‘I don’t like being too contactable either.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ll see you on Monday morning unless …’

‘Unless what?’

‘We’re having an informal get together tomorrow night – just the park staff – to talk over the situation we’re going to be in with the new head ranger. Look, I might as well tell you – maybe Sara has already – I’ve been acting in his job for the last six months, then I applied for the permanent position and didn’t get it. Obviously I wasn’t thrilled when Matt was appointed, and he’s had some bad publicity in the paper, so the locals aren’t exactly onside either, but we’ve got to make it work somehow. That’s what tomorrow’s about.’

‘I’d be keen to come along,’ I said. ‘What time?’

‘About seven – at Charlie’s Store. It’s just by the track to the Pancake Rocks.’ Anna smiled. ‘It’s a local institution. You’ll see what I mean when you get there.’

‘Sounds interesting. Hey, you don’t have to walk home in that rain,’ I said as Anna opened the door. ‘I’ll give you a ride.’

‘I’m fine,’ she replied. ‘I need fresh air. See you tomorrow then, Philippa.’

I watched as she disappeared up the drive and out of sight, then turned to look at my new home. I was getting interested in the park politics. It didn’t sound like I was going to be bored. Maybe life without a glacier wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I decided to dig out my running gear and go exploring. A narrow strip of bush separated the lawn from the sea and I pushed my way through, then scrambled down onto the wet grey sand. The sea was roaring, and I lifted my face to the rain as I jogged along the beach. I glanced to my left at the tilting blocks of limestone towering over the village. Some of them looked like massive loose teeth, and I imagined the damage they would cause if they ever crashed down onto the houses. The Christchurch earthquakes made you think about things you’d never considered before.

At the end of the beach I climbed up onto the road and ran up the hill, doing a quick circuit of the tourist track around the Pancake Rocks. I paused a couple of times to look into the heaving water below, marvelling at the straight sides of the massive rock surge pool and the haphazard stacks of limestone pancakes all round me. It was little wonder Punakaiki was famous.

Returning home drenched, I jumped into the shower, then lit the fire, made my bed and observed my new surroundings with satisfaction.

…

Next evening I ran up the hill again, this time bound for Charlie’s Store and a meeting with my new workmates. It had been a wet day and I’d spent the afternoon reading. It was good to get out in the fresh air.

Charlie’s Store was like something from another age. He stocked groceries but they shared shelf space with objects that would have been more at home in a museum. Ancient Edmonds baking powder tins, an old tin mug, different coloured stones, bones, framed historic pictures and an old gas cooker shared shelves with conventional grocery items, such as baked beans and bags of rice.

A man – presumably Charlie – was behind the counter, using one of the longer bones to knock down a packet of pineapple lumps from a rack above his head. He nodded at me but did not smile. He seemed to be about seventy, with a great head of white hair and a lined, old face.

I introduced myself and he grunted. ‘Here for Anna’s meeting, are you? They’re just through there.’ He pointed to a half-open door at the far end of his shop, and I went through into a comfortable living room full of battered old chairs and sofas, quite a few of which were occupied. The windows at the end of the room faced out onto the jungle of bush at the start of the Pancake Rocks track.

Anna stood up to meet me. ‘Glad you could make it. Everyone, this is Philippa Barnes – she’s starting work with us tomorrow. She’s a guide from Franz but as you all probably know, the glacier access isn’t conducive to tourism right now, so she’ll be spending a few months here working on the tracks with Ben and the rest of the crew. Philippa, firstly, meet Ben Dacre – you’ll be working with him.’

Ben stood up and shook my hand. He was solidly built, dressed in jeans and a worn red-checked work shirt. His hand was calloused. He was dark with a beard shot with copper threads. He smiled. ‘Welcome, Philippa. We need all the help we can get right now – the tracks are in need of a major upgrade. Hope you won’t find it too boring after glacier guiding.’

I laughed. ‘I’m sure I won’t. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘This is Leah, my partner,’ he said.

I glanced at a woman perched forward in her chair who was giving me a less-than-friendly look. Leah was small with pronounced cheekbones, her long dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wore jeans and a long, emerald-green shirt, and her fingers were covered in clunky silver rings. She nodded at me.

Ben and I chatted for a few minutes but Leah said nothing.

A few more people drifted in, and after a while Charlie appeared with an armful of dusty bottles. ‘Might as well try my blackberry wine while you’re here.’

Anna rummaged in a cupboard for some glasses, and everyone settled in to enjoy their drinks. The wine had a sharp flavour, which was a pleasant surprise – I’d been expecting it to be sweet.

‘What are the bones out in your shop?’ I asked Charlie.

‘Moa. Found the skeleton when I was a boy out exploring. Fell into a limestone sinkhole and there it was right under my feet. I could get out, but it hadn’t been so lucky. It’d be something to’ve been around in those days, I reckon.’

‘Where’s Jude?’ Anna asked him.

He scowled. ‘At her sister’s. Ups and goes whenever she feels like it, but someone’s got to keep this place going.’

Anna smiled. ‘You’d be lost without this place and you know it, Charlie O’Leary. You get all the news before it’s even happened.’

Everyone laughed except Leah. She sat back in her chair and gave Ben an angry look. I wondered why.

‘Are there any others still to come?’ Charlie asked Anna. ‘I want to shut up the store and go home, so I’ll leave you to it.’

She glanced around. ‘Just Rebecca – I don’t think there’s anyone else.’

As she spoke a tall, thin woman arrived. She was about fifty, and I noticed how strong and brown her fingers were as she put a book on a nearby table. She moved gracefully and settled into one of the sofas, looking around her with a face that was about as cheerful as Leah’s. Maybe I was being oversensitive but she seemed to bring a gust of misery into the room with her.

‘Rebecca Julian – meet Philippa Barnes. She’s starting work with us next week. Rebecca’s our park receptionist,’ said Anna.

Anna waited until Charlie had left. ‘Thanks for coming out in your spare time, everyone – I really appreciate it. I arranged this meeting to tell you what I know about Matt Grey and see how you’re all feeling about things. The most important thing – I don’t think anyone’s jobs will be affected. As you know, DOC’s taken a fair pounding with job culling, but we’ve been lucky here.’

‘You’re being demoted. How can you be so calm?’ Rebecca leaned forward looking angry. Her voice was low-pitched.

‘Not exactly. I’m going back to my old job and in a lot of ways I prefer that. There’s far less responsibility.’

‘But you’ve been doing such a good job,’ said Ben. ‘Things are getting done, the locals like you – and you know that’s not easy. Why the hell didn’t the idiots at the top see that and give you the job?’

Leah gave a small laugh, but when everyone turned towards her she shrugged and said nothing.

Anna looked embarrassed. ‘Look, we’re not here to talk about me. How many of you have seen the newspaper article? Not everyone? Okay, here are some copies.’

She handed them around and