Free A Vintage Murder by Michele Scott

read.”
    “She was quite a star,” Liam said.
    “Yep, bad deal. I think it might be best for me to call in a detective. Be right back.”
    Officer Warre went over to his car and placed the call. Liam turned to Nikki and Derek. “Typical.”
    “What do you mean?” Nikki asked.
    “The police. As soon as Warre found out that Lucy Swanson was a big star he goes and calls in a detective—his superior.”
    “Why does that bother you?”
    “See, the thing is that the police in these parts don’t want to be responsible for missing something. He’s going to call in someone else to take the heat if this snakebite is more than that . . . which it isn’t.”
    “That’s right,” Derek said. He looked at Nikki. “Just a snakebite.”
    “Right, but because Lucy was this American actress and the cop knows there will be media involved, he has to make sure his arse is covered. It’s politics here in the Barossa.”
    Nikki found it interesting that if the cop was calling in a detective, did he actually think there could be something more to Lucy’s death?
    It didn’t take long before another car rolled onto the property. Out stepped a tall, tan, blond, roguish-looking kind of guy. He had the khaki thing going for him with pants and a hat. His long hair dangled past his ears. Many years spent in the sun had weathered his face enough where he could have been in his midforties but looked more like sixty.
    Liam waved to him. “Jack.”
    The man joined them. “G’day, mate, some trouble here in the vineyard, hey?”
    “A bit. It’s not good. Jack, this is my friend and business associate Derek Malveaux from the States and his lovely assistant Nikki Sands,” Liam said. “Nikki, Derek, this is Detective Jack Von Doussa. He is also a good friend.”
    The detective nodded at them. “Not so good a time to be here, eh, mates? I s’pose I better take a look. Got the call from Warre and of course, he doesn’t want to be boss on this deal, not with a big star like this. So, who is she?”
    “Lucy Swanson,” Liam replied.
    He nodded. “Ah yes, this could be a problem if not handled carefully. I’m going to call in a CSE. Warre,” he yelled at the officer, who was leaning against his car.
    “Yes, sir?”
    “Do you have a video camera in your car?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good. Grab it and follow me.”
    “Video camera?” Nikki asked. “What for, and what is a CSE?”
    Von Doussa smiled, his eyes lined with heavy wrinkles. “You’re rather inquisitive.” He didn’t say it in a mean or condescending way.
    “Yes, she is,” Derek said.
    “I’m only curious because my aunt was a detective in Los Angeles for years and she talked about procedures a lot.”well, the CSE is like your CSI people in the U.S.”
    “Yes, well, the CSE is like your CSI people in the U.S.”
    “So you’re treating this as a crime?”
    “No. I have to cover my arse. See here, this is one of those situations where I need to make sure we go by the book. I don’t need my boss giving me a hard time because I didn’t follow protocol. I’m going to do it so that there will be no problems down the road.” He turned to Warre, who’d just arrived with camera in hand. “Call me in a crime scene examiner.”
    “It’s a crime? I thought it was a snakebite,” Warre said, eyebrows raised.
    “No, no. I don’t think we have a crime here. I need a CSE because this is a well-known person and also a woman.” He lowered his voice. “I want you to videotape my examination and I want a CSE here to take stills, because I don’t want any allegations that I had a prurient interest when I disrobe a famous actress. Now do it.”
    “Oh.” Warre nodded and hurried off.
    “Not the brightest guy around. He got his position through MERIT.”
    “MERIT?” Nikki asked.
    “Yes. Kind of a joke around the department—mates elevated regardless of intelligence or talent. We have quite a bit of cronyism, nepotism, that type of thing. Warre’s father is a