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Detective Senior Sergeant Bradley Hunt, as he was questioned by the older man. She guessed that it was probably the constable’s first homicide or, at least, his first stabbing homicide. Karen wondered if the two connies had taken their time in arriving, considering that the complaint from the neighbours would have seemed routine. The young constable might be troubled by guilt if that were the case.
    It’s too late now.
    There was nothing anyone could do that would bring this young woman back to life. Immediate family would soon be informed. Karen only hoped she wouldn’t have to be the one to lie to the family that their daughter ‘did not suffer’.
    At only twenty-three years of age, Meaghan Wallace was dead.

CHAPTER 2
    ‘I’ll just be a sec, babe.’
    Simon Aston wore little more than low-rise board shorts and his smooth signature smile. He had been working on his tan and, thanks to the warm weather of late, it was looking good. He was looking good and he knew it—and his latest guest at the summery beachfront abode seemed to agree. He left her curled up seductively at one end of the cream sofa in the living room, her denim miniskirt riding up to show a glimpse of the toned curve of her bottom. She was a small dark girl with a full mouth and big brown eyes, and Simon hoped to examine that pert derrière much more closely by night’s end. She worked in ‘promotions’, she’d said.
    He was having a good night. Not a bad pull for a Thursday.
    Now Simon was in the small kitchen, searching through the cupboards. There was one more bottle in there, he was sure.
    Ah, yes. Excellent.
    He sauntered back into the living room,grinning and holding the slightly warm, unopened bottle of Moët et Chandon champagne by the neck. A soft breeze stirred the chimes on the patio; the doors were opened wide to accept the dark, balmy evening.
    Simon noticed that his guest had slipped off her cowboy boots and was twirling her dark hair around a manicured finger. Her tan legs glistened invitingly in the humid evening air. They would enjoy a few more drinks, and then he would walk her down to Tamarama Beach across the road and let the sand and the warm summer night do their magic. It worked every time.
    Yes, life was good.
    ‘I found us another bottle, babe,’ he said. Jessica? Or just Jess? He had forgotten. ‘It’s a bit warm, but I’ll take care of that.’ He pulled the empty bottle out of the silver champagne bucket on the coffee table, and plunked the fresh one in, the wet ice making a shloosh sound, the cubes melting fast in the heat. Simon and his guest had already polished off their first bottle of champagne as if it were tap-water.
    ‘S-i-i-imon…’ the promotions girl purred, leaning towards him and throwing an arm around a cushion, her brown eyes large. ‘You haven’t answered my question yet. Do you already have a date for the big party, or what?’
    ‘Not yet, babe.’ He gave her a sly smile to encourage the idea that he would take her. Every young thing in Sydney wanted to score an inviteto Damien Cavanagh’s lavish thirtieth birthday party next weekend, and as Damien’s best friend, Simon was gatekeeper to the coveted invitation. It would be the social event of the year. Simon wasn’t about to bring a little promotions girl to it, but she didn’t need to know that now. There were plenty more opportunities to get laid in the lead-up to the party.
    ‘Oh,’ she said and moved another inch towards him, beaming. She flicked her hair.
    His mobile phone rang and his guest seemed instantly bored, the sound of the ring switching off her attentive charm like a lamp. Simon impatiently pulled the phone from the pocket of his shorts and looked at its display. It was a private number.
    ‘Hello,’ he answered.
    The girl downed the last drops of her champagne, and then gestured to her empty glass with an impatient pout.
    ‘It’s me.’
    Me?
    ‘Who is me ?’ Simon said, rolling his eyes for Jess’s benefit. She