Irresistible

By Drew Lindsay

One of Ben’s former work colleagues is brutally murdered; his body dumped into Lake Parramatta. Ben feels he should investigate, notwithstanding resistance from police. He is led into a dark world of high-class prostitution coupled with strong inducements for Australian clients to participate in a Chinese based business trying to establish deep footholds within Australia. These clients find the entire Chinese package, Irresistible. A ruthless killer in their midst is possibly the least of Ben’s problems.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drew Lindsay
• Release date: Mar 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005277765

Drew Lindsay

Drew Lindsay is a dynamic Australian Novelist and Writer. He has travelled extensively throughout Australia and the world. His background includes working as a Policeman and detective, then managing his own private investigation business as well as working in Fraud Investigation Management positions within the insurance industry.Drew is a PADI Divemaster and holds a private pilot's license. He has a great love of entertaining others with his vivid imagination. His novels allow the reader to escape into worlds of romance, excitement, humour and fast paced adventure. Drew lives in northern New South Wales with his wife.

Book preview

‘I’m being bitten to death by mosquitoes Miss Peck.’

‘No you’re not Amy,’ said Rhonda Peck, her primary school teacher. ‘You were rubbed thoroughly with insect repellent before we ventured into the Lake Parramatta reserve. Apart from that, I don’t believe there are any active mosquitoes left in this part of Sydney.’

‘Well something is biting my skin Miss.’

Rhonda Peck stopped walking. She was leading a group of primary school students from the North Parramatta Primary school, through the Lake Parramatta reserve and ultimately, to examine the hand-built dam that had held back millions of litres of water from what was originally, Hunts Creek, since September, 1856. She looked down at the rather diminutive Amy Simpson. ‘Show me where you have been bitten to death.’

Amy Simpson held up both her arms.

‘I can’t see any evidence of mosquitoes biting you on your arms Amy.’

‘Well they have been!’

‘Perhaps you just brushed up against one of those stinging bushes on the side of the track. You were all warned to not touch any of those bushes and to stay in the center of the track.’

‘I’m sure I saw mosquitoes Miss.’

‘Well you may have seen one of those little black bugs that fly around here in the bush. All kinds of little black things fly around in the bush. Just brush them away with your hand’. She turned and began walking along the narrow track. ‘Keep up children. We don’t have much further to go. The wall holding back all that water is just up ahead. It’s very old you know. Much older than me.’

‘That’s fairly old,’ said James Painter, the smart-arse boy who constantly entertained his school friends with quick remarks.

‘Mind your tongue James,’ said Rhonda Peck.

‘Yes Miss,’ said James, covering his smirk with a hand.

‘The lake is very deep,’ said Rhonda Peck. ‘The banks can be slippery. Some big rocks are here and there along the edge of the lake. No one is to go into the water. Is that perfectly understood?’

‘Yes Miss Peck,’ several voices said.

‘Do you clearly understand James?’ asked Peck.

‘I didn’t bring my togs Miss,’ said James.

‘Just to be clear,’ said Rhonda Peck. ‘No one is to take off their shoes and go wading. Obviously, we are not here to take a dip.’ She stopped and turned to face James Painter. ‘Is that clear enough for you James?’

‘Yes Miss Peck.’

‘Are there sharks in the lake?’ asked Amy Simpson, scratching at a nasty red welt on her left arm.

‘There are no sharks in the lake,’ said Rhonda Peck. ‘The lake is fresh water, fed from Hunts Creek and other water runoffs when the rain is heavy.’

‘What about giant eels?’ asked Tommy Barns.

‘There are lots of eels in the lake,’ said Rhonda Peck. ‘None of them are giant. They are just normal sized eels.’

‘I’ve heard the eels can jump out of the water and bite anyone close to the edge of the lake,’ said James Painter.

‘That’s absolute rubbish,’ said Rhonda Peck. ‘Let’s move on, shall we?’

‘I’m still being bitten by something,’ said Amy Simpson.

‘She’s got hives,’ said James Painter. ‘She’s always scratching herself.’

‘That’s not true!’ Amy said loudly. ‘I don’t have hives or anything like that. My mother says I may have a mild allergy to something. It’s no big deal.’

‘So why are you trying to blame mosquitoes?’ asked Painter.

‘Leave her alone!’ said Rhonda Peck as she continued to stride along the narrow bush track. ‘I mean it James. One more word out of you and you will be taken back to school.’

‘By who Miss?’

Rhonda Peck held up her mobile phone. ‘Jack, our bus driver. He’s waiting just up there through the bush on the little dirt road behind the houses. He’s got a mobile phone and he will be down here like a shot if I call him.’

James Painter didn’t respond.

‘You remember Jack, don’t you James?’

‘Yes Miss.’

‘Big guy, last time I saw him about half an hour ago, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Yes.’

‘He doesn’t like you much, does he James?’

‘No,’ James replied.

‘We will all walk carefully down this little track to the left, towards the lake,’ said Rhonda. ‘Once we reach the edge of the lake, we will make our way to the dam. I don’t expect to hear another word from you James.’

‘Yes Miss,’ said James, poking his tongue out at the smiling Amy Simpson. ‘Or no Miss,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure which one is correct.’

Rhonda Peck ignored him.

The water in the lake was flat and still. There was no wind to put even the slightest ripple across the water. It looked crystal clear, but it wasn’t. It looked a beautiful blue colour while standing on the banks, but the surface was simply reflecting the clear blue sky overhead. Underneath the surface of the fresh water lake, visibility only extended barely a metre or so. The mud had been stirred up by recent rains and run-off water from the scrub and tree covered, rocky land which sloped gently upwards each side of the lake. Thousands of huge gum trees towered over the ground on each side of the lake as they had done long before English settlers moved into the area, driving out the Aboriginals and claiming the land for themselves. Old trees had died and fallen. New ones had taken their place. The lush undergrowth was thick with decaying leaves and bark. In the 40’s and 50’s, the bushland around Lake Parramatta was alive with all manner of wildlife. Kangaroos, possums, rabbits. All manner of birds inhabited the thick gum forests and surrounding scrub. Ducks swam on the lake.

On the day Miss Rhonda Peck led her Primary School students along a bush track through the bush, there wasn’t a sign of any kind of wildlife. There were very few birds. The ducks had gone. The squeeze of civilization had driven them out, just like the indigenous people before them.

On the right-hand side of the track, a huge sandstone cave appeared. Parts of the walls at the back of the cave, and most of the roof, were blackened from numerous fires. Some of the fires were undoubtably lit hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years before this party of school children walked by. Others had been lit more recently by hermits, living in caves in the bush. Some had been lit by criminals who had somehow escaped from the nearby Parramatta prison. No one had lived under this huge sandstone rock for many years. The Park Rangers and local Police made sure of that.

‘We’ll have a talk about this cave on the way back to the bus,’ said Rhonda Peck. ‘It’s a very interesting cave.’

‘I think it’s a dreadful looking cave,’ said Amy Simpson.

‘You would,’ said James Painter, softly. ‘It’s probably full of mosquitos and snakes and spiders.’

The track reached a point where it forked. You either walked straight ahead or turned left and walked down towards the lake. Rhonda Peck turned left and walked towards the water. From the edge of the lake, the view of the dam wall just to the right, was impressive. The curved, handmade stone wall looked old but also very strong, as it had been since its construction in 1856. The idea surrounding its construction dated back to the Roman times, around 100 years BC. Rhonda Peck pointed this out to her students. None of them looked terribly impressed. Most even didn’t know what BC meant.

James Painter wandered left of the group and walked close to the edge of the lake. Amy Simpson, for some inexplicable reason, so James deduced, followed him. He stopped suddenly and turned. ‘Keep away from me turd.’

‘I know what you saw,’ said Amy. ‘I’m not blind you know. I’m also not a turd. You on the other hand, are a massive turd.’

‘It’s just a shoe,’ said James. ‘Someone has thrown their shoe in the lake.’

‘Why would they do that?’ asked Amy. ‘It looks like a perfectly good shoe to me.

‘What are you pair doing there at the edge of the lake?’ asked Rhonda Peck, her voice rather loud. ‘You are both far too close to the edge.’

‘There’s someone’s shoe in the lake Miss,’ said Amy. ‘We can see a shoe.’

Rhonda Peck walked to where the two children were standing. She bent over and peered into the water. Then she put up both hands above her eyes to shield them from the glare of the sun. She suddenly stood upright. Her normally healthy pink coloured face had turned an alarming shade of white. She sat back heavily on a rock behind her.

‘Are you alright Miss?’ asked Amy. ‘Are you having a turn or something?’

‘Go back to the other children,’ Rhonda whispered. ‘Both of you. Get back from the water.’

Amy looked up at James Painter. ‘Do you know what’s wrong? Should we contact the bus driver? Miss Peck doesn’t look well at all.’

‘It’s not just a shoe down there,’ said James.

‘Go back to the other children,’ said Rhonda. Her voice had taken on a slightly higher pitch, but she held the volume down. There was no mistaking a hint of panic.

‘There’s a human leg attached to the shoe,’ said James. ‘There’s a dead person down there.’

‘It looks like a man’s shoe,’ said Amy.

‘So what?’ asked James. ‘Women dress up in men’s gear all the time.’

‘Should we go in there and drag him out?’ asked Amy. ‘He might be still alive.’

‘Get back with the other children!’ Rhonda Peck screamed. She leapt to her feet and took a mobile phone out of a pocket in her brown jeans. ‘This has nothing to do with you. The others are getting upset and they don’t know why they are upset. Go and settle them down. I need to call the police.’

‘Yes Miss,’ said Amy, turning and walking towards the other children.

‘What if he’s still alive?’ asked James Painter.

‘He’s not alive James,’ she said through gritted teeth. Go back to the rest of the class.’

James Painter didn’t move. He continued to stare at the shoe and the leg in the murky water of the lake.

Rhonda Peck turned her back on him as she dialed 000…Emergency.

****

Chapter Two

Detective Inspector Lillian May stood on the edge of the lake and watched two police divers bring the body to the surface. Five uniformed police officers stood slightly behind her. One male sergeant and four female officers in rank from Constable to Senior Constable. Nearby were two female ambulance officers, although, as it turned out, they wouldn’t be needed. Three government contractors had arrived. Solid looking young men dressed in grey overalls and wearing HASMAT masks. One held a stretcher upright at his side. The other held a grey coloured body bag.

Lillian May had been in the police force for just over 18 years. She joined when she was young. She studied hard and fought her way through the ranks. She was now 42, divorced, and extremely wary of men, especially policemen and especially detectives. She was second in command of detectives stationed at Parramatta. Lillian was fairly tall at 5 feet 9 inches. She was reasonably slim with impressive breasts. These attracted a fair bit of attention from her male colleagues, to the point where she had even thought of having surgery to reduce their size. She was very fit. Her dark brown hair was cut short. She had the most amazing, almost hypnotic hazel coloured eyes.

The male body which the divers lifted out of the water and onto the mud bank, was wearing blue underpants and a pink business shirt, complete with dark grey tie. He wore white socks and his shoes were expensive, brown leather, laced up. He was probably in his mid 40’s, clean shaven, with short black hair. His throat had been cut very deeply from the front. Part of his spine was visible through the fatal wound. One of the government contractors covered the body with a thick white sheet.

A small Asian woman rather silently moved beside Lillian and Lillian jumped a little. ‘You frightened me Tanya.’

‘Sorry darling. You called me, and here I am. I’m not in the habit of sneaking up on people. You were so absorbed in watching proceedings.’

‘I’ve sent the divers back into the lake to look for anything that might help with this murder.’

‘So, you have a murder victim under that sheet eh?’

‘Unless he cut his own throat and jumped into the lake.’

‘Perhaps I’ll take a bit of a look…now that I’m here.’

‘You are a Forensic Pathologist Tanya. That’s why I called you and why the Government pay you the big bucks.’

‘Big bucks my skinny arse.’

‘And you get to work in that almost brand new Forensic Medicine Complex at Lidcombe with the state of the art cafeteria.’

‘They couldn’t cook decent fried rice to save their lives, and their fish is as tough as an old boot.’

‘I’ve had some lovely meals in that cafeteria,’ said Lillian.

‘Yeah, hamburger with chips. That’s what you eat and I know exactly where it goes.’

‘Are you jealous of my breasts Tanya?’

The Forensic Pathologist walked down to the body lying face up on the gently sloping lake bank and pulled back part of the sheet covering his head and shoulders. She studied the corpse for a moment, then dropped the sheet back into its original position, straightened up, turned and looked up at Lillian. ‘Do you want my honest opinion?’

‘Let me have it, any way you like. I’ve thought about having a reduction.’

‘He’s dead. His throat’s been cut and I’d bet my arse he didn’t do it. That’s my opinion, although I’ll need him back at Lidcombe and on one of our nice new stainless-steel tables.’

‘What about my breasts?’

‘What about them?’ said Tanya as she climbed the gently sloping bank onto the bush track. ‘God gave them to you, your size and he gave me mine, my size. Be satisfied with what you’ve got. Lots of women have to get them cut off. You and I are lucky…so far. Be thankful.’ She motioned with her hands to the government contractors. ‘Get that poor bugger in your body bag and off to Lidcombe. I don’t want him touched too much. You guys know the routine.’ She looked back at Lillian. ‘Let me know what the divers find.’

Lillian nodded.

They used to rack them four high, row after row in the old Glebe morgue, close to the Sydney CBD, and that was just the fresh ones. The air conditioning was always set as low as could be tolerated by the living employees but it was often quite uncomfortably cold. The bodies that required deeper cold storage were stacked on individual drawers, layer upon layer in some cases. That is why eventually, they had to close it down. Its closure coincided with the government spending almost ten million dollars on the construction and eventual opening of the new forensic facility at Lidcombe in 2018. The body storage capability was considerably more adequate, even equipped to handle quite numerous and catastrophic situations of death. The forensic medicine facility, Coroner’s Court, relatives’ reception area and interview rooms had been upgraded to state of the art, and worthy of even international praise.

Doctor Tanya Nguyen had the body retrieved from Lake Parramatta, sliced well open on her stainless-steel table as Detective Inspector Lillian May entered the room. Tanya glanced at the detective briefly, and then went on with her work. Lillian stood just inside the glass sliding doorway. This wasn’t her favourite place. She actually hated the morgue…any morgue. The coldness of the area and smell of death and body preservatives, clung to her clothing and skin. She usually had her clothing dry cleaned after any visit, and she showered repeatedly with lavish helpings of UK imported Molton Brown, tobacco and witch hazel body scrub, lathered into her skin and hair.

‘Do you need to tell me anything?’ asked Tanya.

‘The divers found a leather wallet in the mud, just a few metres down from the body. If it belonged to him, and the photographs on his three forms of ID are not conclusive evidence of his identity, but assuming the wallet belonged to the deceased, his name is Peter Sherwood. He used to live at an address in Mosman. He was 45 years old. He held a private investigator’s license and a pistol license. He worked for a Sydney based VIP protection and investigation organization. The fingerprints your people would have taken from his body when he came here will leave little doubt as to his identity. We’ll get him formally identified as soon as you’re done with him.’

‘Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that this guy’s wallet with all kinds of ID is found in the lake a few metres from his body?’ asked Tanya.

‘Very odd,’ said Lillian.

‘The killer wanted him identified,’ said Tanya.

‘Clearly.’

‘Why?’

‘To send out a warning to others perhaps. Whatever the case, we’re not giving anything to the media just now so there is no warning going out to anyone.’

‘Other than those who know this guy and realise he is missing.’

Lillian nodded in agreement.

‘Are you in touch with the next of kin?’

‘That’s being arranged,’ said Lillian.

‘Did the divers find any kind of weapon, in particular, a knife?’

‘No.’

‘Did you find any drugs in the wallet?’

‘Like foils or vials?’

‘Yeah, that stuff.’

‘No.’

Tanya handed a surgical knife to a female assistant standing opposite her. ‘Take out the other bits if you don’t mind.’ She looked down into a stainless-steel bowl to her right. ‘I’ll have another prod through his stomach.’

‘What did you find Tanya?’ asked Lillian.

‘Do you want to have a look here?’

‘No thank you. Just tell me.’

‘Liquid stomach contents have been sent for analysis. His stomach contained a few partly digested pills but no food.’

‘So it’s likely he took the pills himself?’

‘I don’t know for sure. Probably he did. It would be my guess they entered his body about 15 minutes before he was killed. I’m having them initially examined by someone who knows more about pills than I do, but I’d be prepared to bet they are Viagra. We’ll know for sure soon enough.’

‘Did he drown?’ asked Lillian?

‘No. He was dead for a while before they tossed him into the lake. I’m feeding stuff into the computer to attempt to get to a time of death.’

‘Why do you say they’ Lillian asked.

‘He’s a fairly big, heavy guy,’ said Tanya. ‘I didn’t see any drag or wheel marks in the dirt leading down to where they found his body. The Crime Scene people I spoke to at the lake told me they could not find drag or wheel marks. The only way anyone could have got his body down to the lake in that area, was from the fire trail at the back