In Sunshine And Shade
CRIME SHORT STORY BY LIZ FILLEUL
Could Sergeant Erin Coombes connect these holiday burglaries?
It’s hot today.” Sergeant Erin Coombes fanned herself before switching on the police car’s air conditioning. “OK, Josh, tell me what you know about this burglary.”
Constable Josh Meachem double-checked his notes while Erin drove out of the car park.
“The burglary was reported by a lady called Viola Swain,” he explained. “She was watering the garden at her son’s place while the family are away on holiday.
“She noticed that a window at the back of the house had been forced open. She went inside and discovered they’d been burgled. Quite a bit of furniture’s been taken, among other things.”
Erin raised her eyebrows.
“Quite a bit of furniture? Sounds like someone’s setting themselves up ready to move into a new house.”
“That’s what I thought,” Josh agreed.
Viola Swain’s son’s house was just outside Warrandale, a pretty village on the outskirts of the area covered by Temple Park’s police station.
Erin pulled up outside a cream-painted, one-storey weatherboard house at the end of a quiet street near the river.
A grey-haired woman waved at them from the front deck.
Erin looked around as she got out of the car. All the houses were on large blocks.
She’d knock on the neighbours’ doors later, but the chances they’d seen anything were slim.
A chocolate Labrador started barking as they walked up the driveway towards the deck.
Viola Swain soothed the dog.
“I’ve been waiting outside,” she said as Erin and Josh climbed the steps on to the deck. “I didn’t want to be in there on my own.”
Her mouth trembled.
“That’s understandable,” Erin said.
“They’ve taken a lot of stuff,” Mrs Swain told them. “They must have had a large van to take it all away.”
She showed Erin and Josh around the house.
The dining table, a sofa and flatscreen TV had been taken from the family room, and beds and chests of drawers from the children’s bedrooms.
The clothes from the chests of drawers had been tipped on to the polished floorboards.
Bookcases had been taken, too, and an air fryer and microwave had been stolen from the kitchen along with the cutlery drawer.
When they’d finished looking around, Josh made coffee while Mrs Swain and Erin sat on stools at the kitchen counter.
Erin took out her notebook.
“I know you’ve already gone through this once, Mrs Swain, but could you tell me what time you discovered the break-in?”
“At half-past eight this morning,” Mrs Swain replied. “I was taking Cocoa for an early walk because of the hot weather.”
Cocoa jumped up at the mention of his name and she fondled his ears.
“He’s the kids’ dog, not mine. He’s staying at my place while they’re away.
“Anyway, I thought I’d drop by here to water the garden. Jodie likes her flowers.”
She pointed out of the window to a garden colourful with roses, hydrangeas and various potted plants.
“That’s when I noticed the bathroom window had been forced open.”
“The family don’t have a burglar alarm or any other kind of security?” Erin asked.
“No. I’ve mentioned to Brendan that they should, but it’s always so quiet around here and they’ve never bothered.”
Erin nodded. Other than the occasional bit of graffiti, Warrandale wasn’t known for crime.
She’d worked at Temple Park’s police station for six years and could count her visits to Warrandale on one hand.
“Prior to this morning, when was the last time you were here?” she queried.
“Around six o’clock last night when I watered the garden and picked up the post. Everything was fine then.”
So the burglary had happened overnight – presumably sometime after midnight and before five o’clock this morning, when it was dark and people were asleep.
“When are Jodie and Brendan due home?” Erin asked.
“They were due back on Saturday, but they’re heading back now. They wanted to come back as soon as I’d told them what happened.”
Mrs Swain glanced at the clock on the wall above the sink.
“They should be back in an hour or so. They’re down at Darby Creek National Park, camping.”
Darby Creek was about three hours from Warrandale, Erin calculated.
“Who knew that Jodie and Brendan were away?”
“Well, I did, obviously. And Rosemary next door did, because she’s been putting the bins out for them.
“And my other daughter and her family did. I suppose the children’s friends from school knew, but none of them would be responsible.”
She reached for the coffee mug Josh placed in front of her.
“It’ll be a stranger, won’t it? Someone who’s been watching the street and noticed the empty house.”
“We’ll keep all our options open for now,” Erin replied. “I’ll arrange for forensics to come in to look for fingerprints. We will talk to the neighbours to find out if they saw or heard anything.
“We’ll come back and talk to Jodie and Brendan later.”
Erin and Josh didn’t have much luck with the neighbours.
Rosemary, who looked to be around Viola Swain’s age, said she’d heard the sound of a truck in the street at some stage during the night but had ignored it.
“I thought it was just a truck driver who’d taken a wrong turning. It happens.”
A neighbour a couple of doors up said his dog had started barking at around two o’clock in the morning.
“I thought he’d heard a possum or a wallaby outside or something,” he said. “I told him to be quiet.
“I wish now I’d let him out. If he’d gone down to the fence and kept barking I’d have come out to see what the matter was.”
It probably was the burglars who made the dog bark
Erin said as she and Josh walked back to the Swains’ house. “But we can’t be sure of it.”
When Brendan and Jodie Swain arrived home, they couldn’t add anything to what Mrs Swain had already told Erin and Josh.
“The kids’ friends knew we were going away, and so their parents would have as well,” Jodie told them.
Her hand shook as she reached for a glass of water on the kitchen counter.
“But none of them would do anything like this! The local primary school is small and all the parents know each other. We’re a tight-knit community.”
“What about people at your workplaces?” Josh asked them.
“Well, yes, some of them knew, but you can’t suspect them, surely,” Brendan replied.
He looked exhausted. The children, aged ten and nine, had been upset when they’d learned their bedroom furniture had been stolen.
Mrs Swain had taken them and Cocoa back to her house so her daughter and son-in-law could talk to the police.
“People talk and can give away information to the wrong person without realising,” Erin told them. “I’m going to need you to give me a list of everything that was stolen.”
“I suppose our stuff’s going to be sold online or at markets,” Brendan muttered.
“Given what’s been taken, I think someone’s setting themselves up in a new house,” Erin replied. “But we’ll be keeping an eye on the usual places and an eye out for any leads.”
Between other jobs, Erin and Josh tried and failed to find leads on the burglary at the Swains’ house.
Forensics hadn’t turned up any clues – clearly the burglars had known how to cover their tracks.
A few days later, Erin was catching up on paperwork following a traffic accident when she was interrupted by a call about a similar burglary.
This time, a woman called Kim Lenton, who lived only a few streets away from the police station, had returned from holiday to discover her home had been broken into.
Again, a combination of furniture and household goods had been stolen, including a queen-sized bed, a dressing table and a fridge.
Although the houses were much closer to each other than the ones at Warrandale, they were surrounded by trees.
Kim Lenton was a single mother, who had been on holiday with her mother, Julie, and her nine-year-old son, Zac.
They didn’t have a burglar alarm because their cat used the cat flap while they were away.
“Our neighbour came in to feed the cat every day,” Kim told them. “The garage door was closed when she came round yesterday afternoon, but was open when we got back today at lunchtime.”
“Who else knew you were away?” Erin asked.
“My sister who lives about ten minutes away. And some of Zac’s friends and their families.
“I can’t believe this.” Kim’s face crumpled. “It’s the first holiday I’ve been able to take Zac on since his dad left us.
“I hired a cabin down at Darby Creek National Park. And now this!”
Erin looked up sharply from her notebook.
“Darby Creek? Did you make friends with anyone there? And did you become friendly enough to give them your address?”
Darby Creek National Park had wonderful beaches, and every summer, hundreds of people headed down there.
There was no reason why a seemingly friendly person in the barbecue area wasn’t masterminding burglaries and finding out where other campers lived.
“Mum and I kept to ourselves, really,” Kim said. “Because we had the cabin, we didn’t need to use the barbecues or the amenities block.
“We spent the days swimming, walking and reading, and we would sit outside the cabin with a glass of wine in the evenings. Zac made friends, though, at Nippers. He loved it.”
Erin knew about Nippers – her own children had done it a couple of years ago during a family holiday at Wattle Bark Bay.
Nippers was a beach education programme run by local surf lifesaving clubs.
The children enjoyed swimming in the sea, sprinting for flags on the beach, board paddling and other activities, while the local surf lifesavers taught them how to spot a rip current and the signs of imminent freak waves.
“My children loved it, too,” she told Kim. “Did he meet his friends’ parents? Maybe he talked to them about where he lived.”
“I doubt it,” Kim replied. “He knows not to give out personal information to strangers.”
All the same, Erin’s first move when she left the house was to get back in touch with the Swains.
Jodie answered her call.
“Do you have any news?” she asked hopefully.
“No news, but a possible lead,” Erin replied. “Did your children take part in the Nippers program while you were at Darby Creek?”
“Yes, they did. Do you think it’s to do with someone from Nippers?”
“Possibly. Could you talk to your children and get the names of the friends they made there?”
Josh had been busy, too, while Erin had been talking to Jodie Swain.
“I just did a social media check to find posts by people who’d been burgled this summer. I found a couple – not people from our area, but both of them had spent a week camping at Darby Creek with their kids.”
“Nice work, Josh.” Erin nodded. “We’d better have a chat with them, I think.”
Erin got out of the car and stretched.
It had been a long drive down to Darby Creek National Park.
But it was worth it, she thought, drinking in the view.
From the car park on the headland she could see the long stretch of white-sand beach.
The beach was busy with tourists.
Lifeguards from the Darby Creek Surf Lifesavers Club, wearing their distinctive yellow shirts and red shorts and caps, stood by the flags that marked the stretch of water where it was safe to swim.
There was a Nippers session going on – the children were out on paddleboards.
Two more surf lifesavers were on paddleboards, too, keeping an eye on them.
Josh joined her.
“I wouldn’t mind a swim myself.”
“I wouldn’t, either,” Erin admitted. She’d brought her swimming costume just in case there was time later. “But we’re here to work.”
They beelined for the visitors’ centre.
Over summer, one small room became a makeshift police office.
Two police constables worked there from early December to the beginning of February to ensure tourists didn’t break the local speed limits or get into any intoxicated fights.
“It would be a breeze of a job, this,” Josh commented, as the park ranger pointed them towards the police office. “I wouldn’t mind it myself. Dish out speeding tickets, have a surf.”
The constable on duty, Rory Willars, certainly seemed cheerful enough – and happy to help Erin and Josh obtain the information they needed.
He introduced them to the park rangers who took accommodation and campsite bookings.
They agreed to compile a list of names of people who were spending the entire summer there.
Rory also promised to organise a list of staff who were working at the park all summer.
“We’re particularly interested in any families who’ve stayed all summer whose children might have done Nippers each week,” Erin said.
You’ll have to get those names from the surf lifesaving club
Rory told them.
While they waited for the rangers to organise the lists they needed, Erin and Josh talked to Rory about the case and then about his summer work at Darby Creek.
“I bet you get to surf every day,” Josh said.
“Not every day,” Rory replied. “But a couple of times a week. Though you can guarantee that if I’ve got any free time, that’s when it’ll rain.”
The list of families who’d spent over a month at Darby Creek was lengthy.
Still, Erin thought, scanning it, it would be narrowed down once they had the list of children who’d done Nippers.
If that got nowhere, then there was the list of staff to go through – but she was certain that Nippers was the connection.
“Nippers will be over now,” Rory said eventually. “Let’s go down.”
As they walked through the campground to the beach, Rory was seized upon by a small boy on a bicycle.
“Look, Constable Willars! I can ride this without training wheels now.”
“That’s awesome!” Rory enthused.
The boy’s mother came out of the tent to talk to him, and he signalled to Erin and Josh that he wouldn’t be long.
Outside a nearby tent, a boy and a girl were sitting wrapped in towels, talking to their mother.
“Why can’t we have a dog?” the boy grumbled.
“I’ve told you over and again, your dad and I are out at work, you’re at school, and we can’t leave a dog on its own all day.”
“It could do doggie day care,” the girl pointed out.
“It could. And that costs a lot of money, you know!
“What’s brought this on anyway?” the mum asked. “It’s the first time you’ve mentioned wanting a dog for ages.”
“We’re the only kids at Nippers who don’t have pets.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is,” the girl protested. “Daniel, one of the surf lifesavers, was asking us all about our pets.
“Everybody else has got a dog or a cat, and he was asking them who was looking after them while they were away.
“They’d all got house-sitters, apart from one girl whose auntie was moving in to look after the cat.”
“Perhaps we could get house-sitters while you and Dad are at work,” the boy put in. “Anyway, we were the only ones who had to tell him we don’t have any pets.”
“What did this Daniel say to that, then?”
“He said, well, at least our parents hadn’t had to organise house-sitters.”
Erin felt Josh’s nudge against her elbow.
“Did you hear what they just said, Sarge?” he murmured.
“I certainly did,” she answered. “I’ll have a chat with the mum and we will have a watch put on their house.
“And you and Rory had better have a word with Daniel.”
In the end, Erin didn’t have to put a watch on the family’s house.
When Josh and Rory arrived at the club house, they caught Daniel in the act of making a phone call, giving someone an address.
It turned out that he and his two brothers worked together, stealing goods to order.
His brothers had bought a van that they used to drive away goods from the houses they burgled, and Daniel used his work with the surf lifesavers to find addresses that would be empty over summer.
When parents signed their children up for Nippers, they had to give their names and addresses, and all Daniel had to do was chat to the children about what was happening with their pets.
The good news for the families they’d stolen from was that not all the goods had been disposed of yet – and that it would be easy for the police to trace who the others had gone to.
“That was a good day’s work,” Josh said, as he and Erin walked back to the car. “That’s got us closer to our arrest targets for the month.”
“Very true,” Erin agreed. “Did you bring your swimming trunks with you?”
“I did, as it happens.”
“Well, then, Constable, why don’t we have a swim before we head off home? I reckon we’ve earned it.”
“I reckon we have, too,” he replied, reaching in the car for his bag.
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