LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER

      1

      Less than twenty-six hours after the brutal execution style slaying in which the victim was found hung, with hands bound and wearing a bullet hole above his right eye, the first golden rays of dawn appeared at 4.50 a.m. as predicted by the TV weatherman. Within minutes warming sunlight washed over the ranch style home, illuminating the slate grey roof. Wide inviting verandas surrounded the homestead with wrought iron bench seats positioned to escape the chill winter winds and scorching summer sun.

      Manicured lawns abutted the house on all sides. A tennis court with basketball ring and backboard was located to the east of the homestead. Hidden behind a line of adjoining pine trees were the forest green concrete walls of a squash court.

      Continuing north through the property towards the driveway entrance, past the pergola, flying fox, children’s swings and sand pit were further landscaped grounds, culminating in a purpose built lake fifty metres across. Complete with jetty, waterfall and island, the lake formed a sanctuary for birdlife and multiple species of frogs. Dark green buffalo grass grew from the water’s edge, cascading up over the lake’s bank, merging into the lush lawn covering the surrounding expanse of land.

      Set on the property line was a brick and bluestone fence, complete with four gate posts, displaying two engraved brass plates with the words ‘Ballard Estate’. A bluestone bordered gravel driveway curved in a giant serpentine S one hundred and thirty metres down to the house; the driveway separating the lake on the left from a copse of silver birch, numerous golden Cyprus pine, plus hundreds of native gums on the right. Chelsea Road, which traversed the entire frontage of the property ended in a court.

      At 5 a.m., ten minutes after the first glimmer of daylight, the Bose clock radio sprang to life in the master bedroom announcing the 1278 AM news. Detective Inspector Michael Ballard blinked several times to clear his vision, then, glaring at the alarm, stretched his 186 centimetre frame long and hard in the king-size bed. The bedclothes enveloped him in a seductive cocoon of warmth, causing him to flirt with the notion of hitting the snooze button; he resisted the temptation.

      The broadcast went on to remind him of the macabre murder of a factory owner, the reason why he had set the alarm so early on what should have been his day off. He felt his pulse quicken as he anticipated the adrenalin charged hunt for the vicious killer or killers, appreciating just how close he had come to losing forever the privilege of participating in these crucial investigations.

      He reflected back to his forty-fifth birthday, having spent twenty-five years with the state police, the last fifteen in Homicide. He recalled handing in his resignation, then, within hours, numerous senior management and long time friends challenging him on the wisdom of his decision. In the following days members of his family had questioned his judgement, knowing his intense love for the job.

      Recently divorced for a second time and recognising a midlife crisis was a factor in the decision, he had argued that successful property investments throughout his adult life, along with a substantial inheritance meant now was the time to explore other opportunities and experiences. Deep in his heart he feared leaving the force may be a huge mistake; it had become his second family. Once experienced, the camaraderie was intoxicating, almost impossible to walk away from.

      During weeks of deliberation in which he had taken leave, the two combatants of reason had raged within him. On the one hand was the powerful allure of peaceful, idyllic days spent on the estate, free to do whatever he chose. Opposing this was the immense satisfaction derived from bringing justice to victims of major crime, while utilising his many investigative talents developed over decades. Throughout this mental conflict he had recognised the day was fast approaching when a younger detective would and should take his place, but that time had not yet arrived.

      As a consequence, six years after submitting his resignation he remained in the job, in Homicide, at the same rank. However, there was one significant compromise. He now worked four day weeks unless a challenging case came to light. This was a concession granted in recognition of his years of service, including his ongoing mentoring role to junior members; an activity he enjoyed and excelled at.

      The discovery of a factory owner’s body in Lalor, strung from a noose inside his own business premises proved to be one of those challenging cases Ballard had jumped at. The news broadcast failed to add anything of significance to the original announcement, however, due to the gruesome circumstances the story was still considered news worthy. He reflected on the sad reality that human suffering contributed more and more to the grist of everyday media coverage.

      Tossing aside the bed clothes he stood tall, stretched his lean frame one more time before pulling on shorts and Tshirt. Grabbing a towel from the adjacent en-suite, he padded barefoot along the tiled hallway which ran the centre of the house, noting that despite it being the end of spring there was still a crisp chill in the air, the cold ceramic tiles underfoot reminding him of this fact.

      At the far end of the corridor he entered the sports room. This was part of an extension which had an adjoining self-contained Bed and Breakfast and been built soon after he submitted his resignation.

      Even though he had made the decision to remain with the police force, the B&B felt like an alternative lifestyle that he would one day pursue as a part-time business. He smiled as he pictured himself greeting his future guests: carrying their suitcases, instructing them in the use of the electronic equipment, how to obtain the best results in the gym and all the while engaging in small talk as he signed them through the register.

      Ballard pulled the sports room door shut then flicked on the down lights. The room was large; twelve metres by eight and aptly named. One third of the floor contained a full complement of gymnasium equipment positioned on protective rubber matting.

      Against one wall was a Meili massage chair. A forty-two inch flat screen TV was secured on the far wall, viewable from any piece of equipment in the room. Against the right hand wall, located alongside the BodyCraft strength training tower was a Canadian cedar, infrared

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