Death on Dangar Island

The DI

Please remain calm and continue to wait here. Detective Inspector McKinnon will be able to see you soon.’

Israel stopped in front of the officer and glared at his well-pressed uniform. He raised his eyes and met the policeman’s stare before he stalked back to his seat beneath the awning. The deck was starting to bake as the sun crept across the timber floor. It was now uncomfortably hot and they’d already waited more than two hours. Being held against his will angered Israel, even if his gaol cell happened to be the balcony of a holiday home with a tranquil view of the water. It was almost as if theywere the criminals. He pulled out his smartphone and started to tap away furiously.

Gary sat in the open and took in the view; his long legs extended, feet up on the lower rung of the railing. The river sparkled and the little boats moored off the beach bobbed in the gentle swell.

The house Gary had rented for their holiday was a modest weatherboard affair wedged between grandly named Grantham Crescent and the gentle curve of Bradley’s Beach. Their accommodation wasn’t luxurious, but it was clean and well kept. The best feature was a large covered deck overlooking a strip of golden sand and the emerald river beyond. In the distance, a maze of heavily forested bays and inlets eventually found their way out to the Pacific Ocean.

Surrounded by vast tracts of the Ku-Ring-Gai Chase National Park, Dangar Island gave the impression it was far from civilisation. In fact, the island lay close to the northern suburbs of Sydney. There was something unusual about the place, an atmosphere Israel couldn’t quite quantify. Despite the thick native vegetation, the place felt like a village, the houses sitting snug together, as if finding solace from their proximity. The narrow lanes and the absence of vehicles enhanced a sense of gentle domesticity in the face of the primeval landscape.

‘I don’t imagine they get much of this kind of drama in such a quiet little place,’ yawned Gary as he stretched his broad back and shoulders. High cheekbones caught the light as he tilted his face to the sun.

Israel looked up from his phone and his face softened. He stood and stretched before he moved across the deck to stand next to his friend out in the heat. ‘There are troubles everywhere, my friend. Perhaps incidents like this are not so unusual. Strange things can happen anywhere – even in quaint holiday enclaves like this. Even murders …’

‘What do you mean murder? The girl’s death was an accident. A straight-up case of snakebite.’

Israel glanced towards the constable, who seemed wholly engrossed picking dirt out from under his fingernails. ‘I would not be so certain, my friend,’ he muttered. ‘I sense something unusual happened here last night. There are signs the incident is not as straightforward as it appears. If this young woman’s death is simply labelled an accident and dispensed with, I suspect it will be a travesty of justice.’

Gary rolled his pale blue eyes but kept quiet. He looked straight ahead for a moment before he turned back to his companion. ‘Speaking of strange … those emo kids on the ferry last night, Iz, they were strange. All done up, weren’t they? I bet our girl was hanging out with that lot. She looked the type. There must have been a party on. They were loaded up with booze – remember?’

Gary was right; the young people travelling with them on the ferry the previous evening had clearly spent a good deal of time on their outfits. They also decorated themselves with heavy mascara, black lipstick, piercings and tattoos. Just like the dead girl.

The constable’s flip-top mobile rang and there was a quick discussion in hushed tones.

The officer straightened his uniform and beckoned for them to follow him. ‘The DI’s ready for you now.’