A murdered judge. Two missing lawyers. Take a dip in LEE CHRISTINE’s latest book, Glenrock.
ABOUT THE BOOK
After Justice Maurice Tempest dies violently in the Glenrock State Conservation Area in Newcastle, local detective Senior Sergeant Callan O’Connor is urgently called to the scene.
Days later a second body is found in the same location, turning what had looked like a revenge killing into so much more.
Former political journalist Angela Avery has been spending a lot of time at the Hunter Valley prison interviewing a soon-to-be-released forger, and when O’Connor’s investigation reveals an interest in him Angela is determined to protect both her source and her fledgling relationship with O’Connor.
Meanwhile, two young female lawyers from a law firm in Sydney have disappeared.
Are the missing lawyers linked to the dead judge? Can O’Connor unravel the connections before the body count rises further? And how much does Angela Avery really know?
READ AN EXTRACT
Of all the decisions Justice Maurice Tempest had made during his years as a Supreme Court judge, none compared to the sheer enormity of the decision looming before him today.
With sleep an elusive luxury, he watched the bedside clock glow 4.29 a.m., pressed stop before the alarm could wake his wife, and slipped out of bed. He dressed in exercise gear, left his home on Newcastle’s historic hill, and made for the Bathers Way walk.
An icy, onshore wind cut through his jacket and pants, and the trees and shrubs had been washed clean by the heavy overnight rainfall. But the freshness of a new day brought none of its usual anticipation, only a bleak trepidation. If events played out as he imagined, this time tomorrow his step might be a little brisker, the burden of responsibility a little lighter.
At the crest of the hill, he stepped onto the Anzac footbridge.
Built above the cliff tops, the bridge was a memorial to World War I soldiers. On this freezing, mid-winter morning, the Tasman Sea to his left was shrouded in darkness, a contrast to the glittering city lights on his right. He shivered, inhaling the sea air. His grandfather wouldn’t recognise the place if he were alive today – the industrial smokestacks that belched pollution into the atmosphere had been gone for over two decades. The main street now boasted a trendy light rail, while new apartment buildings sat cheek by jowl along the deep-water harbour’s southern shore.
The suspension footbridge bounced beneath his feet and a lightning flash on the horizon signalled a storm out to sea. Sometimes, the judge would stop by the steel silhouettes of the soldiers and watch the sun rise over the ocean.
But not today.
Not judgement day.
He glanced at his watch and quickened his pace, ruing the three whiskey nightcaps he’d downed before bed. The alcohol had failed to quieten his racing mind and robbed him of sleep, but at least he was feeling better now he was up and moving. He was on time to reach Glenrock where Tommy would be waiting.
At the end of the bridge, he descended the stairs, triggering the sensor lights. Two rows of LEDs lined the pathway downhill. He followed the curve of coastline past three surf pavilions until, 20 minutes after leaving home, the Merewether headland loomed in front of him, jutting into the ocean. Few lights glowed from inside the luxury homes built on the escarpment, but as he neared the baths he could see the kick splash from a line of swimmers executing a slow crawl from one end of the giant ocean pool to the other. The devoted mackerels swam year-round in the same baths where the judge had learned to swim as a six-year-old.
Leaving the baths behind, he switched on his headlamp and stepped off the concrete and onto the wet compacted sand. There was no high tide this morning.
By the light of his headlamp, he weaved his way around the rocky headland until he reached Burwood Beach on the other side. On his left, several lights winked – bulk carriers waiting to be brought into the harbour. On his right, the heavily wooded Glenrock State Conservation Area lay shrouded in darkness.
Awabakal country.
Forty-five minutes after leaving home, he came to the still waters of Glenrock Lagoon. Swollen with runoff, it was ready to surge into the ocean at any moment. The judge hurried along the strip of sand separating the ocean from the lagoon, then slowed as he approached the grassy knoll on the other side. Halfway up the slope, he came upon the track, loose stones shifting under his tired feet.
Reluctant for the workday to begin, he paused beside a copse of trees to catch his breath. The lagoon lay shrouded in fog, the park silent, save for a rustle in the undergrowth and the distant sound of waves breaking on the shoreline.
For long moments the judge stood still, inhaling air dense with moisture, before deciding nothing could soothe his troubled mind – not the damp remoteness of this place, nor the relief he would feel once the day was at an end.
He swung around, and in the glow of his headlamp caught sight of a moving shadow on the track ahead. From the brief glimpse, he couldn’t tell if the figure was approaching, or ahead of him on the track. Most likely an early morning surfer heading to the beach for a surf at sunrise.
The judge walked on, careful to aim the headlamp at the ground in front of him. It wouldn’t do to twist an ankle on an unseen rock now, or stumble into one of the many potholes caused by months of rainfall.
A bird flew out of the trees, crossing his path moments before a dark figure – a man, given his height and build – materialised in front of him. No wetsuit hugged this man’s form though, only loose, dark clothing, and a hood that covered most of his face.
And where the judge had imagined him carrying a surfboard, this man carried a firearm.
Processing everything in one terrifying second, the judge took a step back. ‘No!’
It would be the last word to pass his lips, the glint of steel pointed at his chest one of the final images he would see. He raised an imploring hand, registered the blood splatter on his watch face as the bullet tore apart his chest.
On this – judgement day.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lee Christine is the author of three crime novels with romantic elements set in Australia’s iconic Snowy Mountains.
Dead Horse Gap was published in February 2022, Crackenback in February 2021 and Charlotte Pass in February 2020. Charlotte Pass won the Australian Romance Readers Association award for Favourite Romantic Suspense in 2020.
Prior to her shift into crime writing, Lee wrote six romantic suspense novels.
Lee loves connecting with her readers and has appeared on a panel at the Newcastle Writer’s Festival, Lake Macquarie Libraries Write Here! festival, and has been a guest speaker at major fundraisers for the Friends of Newcastle University and the Mark Hughes Brain Cancer Foundation.
Lee lives in Newcastle with her husband and her Irish Wheaten Terrier, Honey.
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