City Of Sin (Carter Thompson Mysteries Book 1) - Sean O'Leary

An Australian Crime Mystery Novel Set In Sydney

City Of Sin (Carter Thompson Mysteries Book 1) by Sean O'Leary

Book excerpt

Salem pushed the chair back from the desk. The wheels rolled across the wooden floor. He shook his head, ran his hands through his blond hair. He knew there were account numbers and a large number, possibly hundreds, maybe thousands of more images and video involved but he couldn’t open the files, couldn’t break the codes. Rhia sat on a ratty old but much-loved sofa with her head in her hands. Molly was in her room with headphones on, adding songs to playlists on Spotify.

Salem went to Rhia, put his arms around her. She was crying softly, he kissed her cheeks one at a time, and said, ‘What happened?’

She told him everything, the whole sad story. Then got up, fetched the cash from her room. Told him about the credit cards. But lied, telling him she had thrown both cards away.

He said, ‘It’s over. You can’t do it anymore. The money can be a start to a new life. I hated it before, hated that you had to do it. I can work. I can get a job as a dishwasher or waiter. You can work in a bar or a store, a supermarket. I can put together false CVs. The money won’t be as good but you…’

‘Yes.’

‘What?’

‘Yes. I’m done. I can’t do it anymore, not after that.’

They sat in silence. Rhia had never had a proper job. Her mum died when she was seventeen when Molly was two years old. Rhia was only out of school for eight months. Her mother had been a cleaner, there was no inheritance. Molly’s father had left town the moment he heard about the pregnancy, but Rhia didn’t care about that. She had made a mistake with him. He was dull, a stoner. But when she nursed Molly for the first time she was truly in love. She had a close friend, Andy, a drug user, another high school dropout who was already doing sex work around Kings Cross and the notorious wall in Darlinghurst. Rhia started sex work too, winging it.

Rhia and Molly had to move out of the two-bedroom flat they had lived in with Rhia’s mother in Darlinghurst. Andy, Rhia, and little Molly moved into a one-bedroom flat in Potts Point. They were friends, not lovers. He was gay. They had a view of the harbor if you stood on the toilet seat and not much else. One worked; one looked after Molly. But Andy started using heavily. Rhia never did, not heroin. Andy wasn’t reliable anymore. Rhia stayed home. Andy disappeared one day, never came back. Rhia didn’t report it to the police. She went to Centrelink, applied for welfare, got it. But she couldn’t go out anywhere without Molly; couldn’t do that cash-in-hand sex work. But she had Molly and that was enough. This lasted three years.

When she was twenty, she met Salem when she was taking Molly for a stroll in the pram along Macleay Street, headed for home. He asked her for a light and then if she wanted a coffee? He was bright, funny, and cheeky. He had a friend, Teresa, who was happy to look after Molly a few nights a week while Molly and Salem lived a wild life around the Cross and up on Oxford Street, Darlinghurst. Rhia lived her wild teenage-like years later than her peers. It was a joyous time for both of them. Rhia enjoyed sex for the first time in her life as Salem was a gentle and generous lover. Salem didn’t take drugs, Rhia did a little pot and speed, an acid trip here or there. They went to clubs and dance parties in big warehouses.

Salem moved into the one-bedroom in Potts Point with them. His friend moved away so they settled a bit. Salem always had money from his hacking but then he got caught. Did eighteen months in jail, broke Rhia’s heart. She started working again during the day, hiring a babysitter for Molly. She was making nice money, still getting welfare, not taking drugs. She had regulars. She didn’t save much money. Molly needed clothes and shoes all the time and school was coming too. The rent took a big chunk, she liked buying clothes for herself. She took a lot of speed to keep going.

Salem got out. He hated what she was doing but he was a wreck from jail, his nerves shot. It would take a lot of time for him to regain them. He took prescription meds for anxiety, had some PTSD issues. He never went out outside, but it was a godsend in a way because he looked after Molly. No babysitting fees, she could work at night for better money. She advertised in the Wentworth Courier both online and in print, changing her name and mobile all the time. The regulars continued but she brushed a lot of them, they made her sick with their talk of saving her, making her their own. She couldn’t believe how stupid they were.

It was work. She was popular, satisfied the men. It was dangerous too, fuck yeah. She had a knife pulled on her twice, had to MACE the guys, run out of the motel. She often had to skip out of motels and low-down dives, but they moved to the two-bedroom in Darlinghurst. Molly had her own room. Salem was making small-change, hacking accounts again. He didn’t tell Rhia, but it all helped. Salem feared the work was destroying Rhia and he was right. Now, it was over. They would try and live a normal life; earn money the same way other people did. Unskilled people in unskilled jobs.

What they didn’t understand, even Rhia with her street smarts, was someone was going to be coming for them. Someone hired by New Light Church. Thompson was looking for Rhia too. She didn’t kill anyone, but she left the scene. Stole the credit cards. He could make her answer for these things but right now he feared for her life. She might know something, and she had that USB.

The death of Norton had so far been kept out of the media. Wayne Hampton’s murder was not reported either, not yet. Steele had found out he was a nobody with no family. An orphan like Salem. Steele had a special ambulance crew to call for such jobs. No leaks. Al-Abadi was told not to say anything especially not to the property manager who lived next door to him. The other ground floor flat was vacant.

Only Thompson cared.

And it was his job to care.