by Jane Harper
‘Shall we look at the photos?’ he said.
‘I suppose we’d better.’ Carmen sounded as enthusiastic as he felt. Alice Russell’s bushland grave. The ranges had finally given her up, just not in the way any of them had hoped.
Falk unlocked the door and put his backpack on the floor, pulling out items until he could free his laptop. Carmen sat on the bed and watched.
‘Still got your dad’s maps,’ she said as he put the stack on the bedspread next to her.
‘Yeah. I didn’t have enough time at home to unpack properly.’
‘No, me neither. Still. I suppose we’ll be back there soon enough. Face the music at work, now Alice has been found. They’re still going to want the contracts.’ Carmen sounded defeated by the prospect. ‘Anyway –’ She moved over to make space on the bed as Falk opened his laptop. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
Falk plugged in the memory stick and they sat side by side as he opened the gallery of pictures.
Alice’s backpack filled the screen. Shots taken from a distance showed the bag leaning against the base of a tree, its fabric at odds against the sea of muted greens and browns. Close-ups confirmed Falk’s first impression from back in the bushland. The bag had been soaked by rain but was otherwise undamaged and unopened. There was something unnerving about the way it was propped there, poised and ready for retrieval by an owner who would never return. Falk and Carmen took their time staring at images of the bag from all possible angles, but eventually the gallery moved on.
The trees had protected Alice Russell’s body from the worst of the weather, but the elements had still taken a toll. She was lying flat on her back in a bed of overgrown scrub grass, her legs straight out, and her arms slack by her side. She was no more than twenty metres from the path, but from the photos it was clear she was nearly invisible from all but close range.
Her hair was a tangled mess around her head and her skin lay loose and slack against those high cheekbones. Other than that, she could almost be sleeping. Almost. Animals and birds had discovered her body well before the police.
The bushland had washed over Alice like a wave. Leaves and twigs and bits of rubbish clung to her hair and in the creases of her clothing. A decrepit piece of plastic wrapping that looked like it had travelled a long way was wedged under one leg.
Falk was about to move on to the next photo when he stopped. What had caught his eye? He ran his eye over the image again. Something about the way Alice was lying, sprawled, scattered with debris. A thought nagged him, skittering away as he tried to reach out and grasp it.
Falk cast his mind back to the woman he and Carmen had known. Alice’s corporate lipstick and defiant expression were long gone and her body looked like an empty shell against the forest floor. She looked fragile and very much alone. Falk hoped Margot Russell would never see these pictures. Even in death, the resemblance between Alice and her daughter was striking.
They scrolled on through the photo gallery until the screen went blank. They had reached the end. ‘Well, that was about as bad as expected,’ Carmen said in a quiet voice.
The window rattled as she sat back, her hand falling on the pile of maps on the bedspread. She picked up the top one and opened it, her eyes running over the printed lines.
‘You should use these.’ She sounded sad. ‘At least something good should come out of all of this.’
‘Yeah. I know.’ Falk shuffled through the pile until he found the Giralang Ranges map.
He opened it flat, looking for the North Road. He found it cutting through an unmarked tangle of bushland. He worked out roughly the spot where he thought the cabin lay, and then where Alice Russell’s body had been found.
There were no pencil markings in the whole region, no words or notes in his dad’s handwriting. Falk wasn’t sure quite what he had been expecting, or hoping, to find, but whatever it was, it wasn’t there. His dad had never been to that area. The printed lines on the paper stared back with blank indifference.
With a sigh, he moved the page until he found the Mirror Falls trail. The pencilled notes there were clear as his dad’s hard-to-read letters looped and swirled across the yellowing paper. Summer trail. Watch for rockfall. Fresh water source. He had corrected vigorously. A lookout point had been marked as closed, then open, then scored through heavily again with the words: Recurring danger.
Falk stared at the words for a long time, not quite sure why. Something flickered deep in his consciousness. He was about to reach for the laptop when Carmen looked up.
‘He liked this area,’ she said, holding up the map in her hand. ‘Lots of markings on this one.’
Falk recognised the name of the region instantly. ‘That’s where I grew up.’
‘Really? Wow. You weren’t joking, it is in the middle of nowhere.’ Carmen looked a little closer. ‘So you two did go hiking around there together? Before you moved.’
Falk shook his head. ‘Not that I remember. I’m not sure even he went out much himself then. He was pretty busy on the farm. Probably got enough fresh air.’
‘According to this it looks like you did. At least once.’ Carmen passed the map over, her finger pointing to something written in Erik Falk’s handwriting.
With Aaron.
The words were written next to a light summer trail. Falk had never walked the full length of it, but he knew where it went. It followed the boundaries of the paddocks where he used to run around, blowing off steam while his dad worked on the land; near the spot at the river where his dad had showed him how to fish; along the fence line where three-year-old Aaron had one summer’s day been photographed laughing and riding on his dad’s shoulders.
With Aaron.
‘We didn’t –’ Falk’s eyes felt heavy and hot. ‘We never really walked that together. Not in one go.’
‘Well, maybe he wanted to. There are some others as well.’ Carmen had been looking through the pile. She passed him a couple more, pointing out the markings. Then a handful more.
On almost every map, in handwriting faded with age and becoming shakier over time, were the words: With Aaron. With Aaron. A chosen route for them to tackle together. His dad, stubborn in the face of flat refusal; the words a wish for something different.
Falk sat back against the bedhead. He realised Carmen was watching him and shook his head. He thought he might have trouble speaking.
She reached out and put her hand on his. ‘Aaron, it’s okay. I’m sure he knew.’
Falk swallowed. ‘I don’t think he did.’
‘He did.’ Carmen smiled. ‘Of course he did. Parents and children are hardwired to love each other. He knew.’
Falk looked at the maps. ‘He did a better job of showing it than me.’
‘Well. Maybe. But you’re not alone in that. I think parents often love their kids more than the other way round.’
‘Maybe.’ Falk thought of Sarah Sondenberg’s parents and the depths they had been forced to plunge for their daughter. What had King said? Never underestimate how far you’d go for your child.
Something again caught at the edge of Falk’s mind. He blinked. What was it? Even as he tried to grasp the idea it twisted and threatened to evaporate. The computer was still open next to Carmen, the gallery of photos still loaded.
‘Let me see again.’ Falk pulled the laptop over and scrolled through the photos of Alice Russell, looking more closely this time. Something in the little details nagged him, but he couldn’t tell what. He looked at her sallow skin, the way her jaw hung a little slack. Her exposed face was almost relaxed and she looked, in a strange way, younger. The howl of the wind outside suddenly sounded a lot like Margot Russell’s cries.
He kept looking. At Alice’s broken nails, her dirty hands, her tangled hair. The debris and stray rubbish strewn all around her. That flicker again. Falk stopped on that last image and leaned in closer. An old piece of plastic was trapped under her leg. The dirty remains of a torn food wrapper lay near her hair. He zoomed in.
A
single torn red and silver thread had snagged in her jacket zip.
The flicker burst into flame as he looked at that torn thread. And suddenly he wasn’t thinking of Alice or Margot Russell but instead of another girl, so fragile she was barely there, fiddling constantly with something red and silver and knotted in her fingers.
A thread caught in a zip. A bare wrist. The haunted look in the girl’s sunken eyes. And the guilty look in her mother’s.
Day 4: Sunday Morning
‘Alice.’ Lauren stared at the other woman. ‘Who are you talking to?’
‘Oh my God.’ Alice put a hand to her chest. Her face was pale in the dark. ‘You scared me.’
‘Is there a signal? Did you get through to someone?’ Lauren reached for the phone but Alice snatched her hand away.
‘It’s too weak. I don’t think they can hear me.’
‘Call triple zero.’ Lauren reached out again.
Alice stepped back. ‘I did. It kept cutting out.’
‘Shit. So who were you speaking to?’
‘It was a voicemail. I don’t think it got through.’
‘But who was it?’
‘It was no-one. Just something about Margot.’
Lauren stared until Alice met her eyes.
‘What?’ Alice snapped. ‘I told you, I tried triple zero already.’
‘We have almost no signal or battery left. We need to save it.’
‘I know that. But this was important.’
‘Believe it or not, there are some things more important than your bloody daughter.’
Alice said nothing, but held the phone closer.
‘All right.’ Lauren made herself take a deep breath. ‘How did you get the phone without waking Jill, anyway?’
Alice almost laughed. ‘That woman slept through a thunderstorm yesterday. She was hardly going to stir because her jacket’s moved.’
Lauren could believe it. Jill had always seemed to sleep better than any of them. She looked down at Alice’s other hand. ‘And you’ve taken Beth’s torch.’
‘I need it.’
‘It’s the only one we’ve got that’s working.’
‘That’s why I need it.’ Alice wouldn’t meet her eye. The light from the torch bobbed in the gloom. The rest of the path was in darkness.
Lauren could see Alice’s backpack leaning against a rock. Ready to go. She took another deep breath. ‘Listen, we need to get the others. They’ll want to know about the signal. I won’t tell them you were leaving.’
Alice said nothing. She tucked the phone into the pocket of her jeans.
‘Alice. Jesus. You’re not seriously still thinking of going?’
Alice bent and picked up her backpack. She slung it over one shoulder. Lauren grabbed her arm.
‘Let me go.’ Alice shook her arm loose.
‘It’s not safe on your own. And we’ve got a signal now. It’ll help them find us.’
‘It won’t. It’s too faint.’
‘It’s something! Alice, it’s a better chance than we’ve had in days.’
‘Keep your voice down, will you? Look, I can’t wait around for them to find us.’
‘Why not?’
No answer.
‘For God’s sake.’ Lauren tried to calm herself. She could feel her heart pounding. ‘How are you even going to do it?’
‘Walk north, like we should have been doing today. You know that’ll work, Lauren, but you won’t admit it because then you’d have to try.’
‘No. I don’t want to do it because it’s not safe. Especially on your own. You’re walking blind, you haven’t even got the compass.’ Lauren could feel the plastic disc in her own pocket.
‘If you’re that concerned, you could give it to me.’
‘No.’ Lauren’s palm closed around it. ‘No way.’
‘Thought not. Anyway, we know this track’s heading north. I can work it out if I have to. I did it at McAllaster.’
Bloody McAllaster. Lauren felt her chest tighten and her blood start to pump a little faster at the mention of the name. Thirty years ago, standing in the middle of nowhere as close together as they were now. The trust challenge. Lauren, homesick, sad and blindfolded, and the feeling of sheer relief at Alice’s firm hand on her arm and her confident voice in her ear.
‘I’ve got you. This way.’
‘Thank you.’
Alice leading and Lauren following. The sound of footsteps around her. A giggle. Then Alice’s voice in her ear again. A whispered warning: ‘Watch out.’
The guiding hand on her arm lifted, suddenly as light as air, and disappeared to nothing. Lauren had reached out, disoriented, her foot catching on something right in front of her and she felt the sickening sensation of falling through space. The only sound was the distant sound of a muffled laugh.
She had fractured her wrist on landing. She was glad. It meant that when she lifted the blindfold to find herself completely alone, surrounded only by dense bushland in the encroaching dark, she had an excuse for the tears in her eyes. Not that it mattered. It had been four hours before the other girls came back for her. When at last they had, Alice had been laughing.
‘I told you to watch out.’
Chapter 29
Falk stared at the red and silver thread caught in Alice Russell’s jacket zip, then turned the screen to face Carmen. She blinked.
‘Shit.’ She had her hand scrabbling in her own jacket pocket and before he said a word had pulled out Rebecca’s woven friendship bracelet. The silver threads glinted in the light.
‘I know Lauren said she lost hers, but was she definitely wearing it out there?’
Falk grabbed his own jacket, rummaging through until he found the crumpled Missing Person flier he’d picked up from reception. He smoothed it out, ignoring Alice’s smiling face and instead focusing on the last shot taken of the five women together.
They stood at the entrance to the Mirror Falls trail, Alice’s arm around Lauren’s waist. Alice was smiling. Lauren’s arm was placed around Alice’s shoulders, hovering rather than resting, Falk thought now as he leaned closer. At the edge of Lauren’s jacket sleeve, a clear band of woven red encircled her wrist.
Carmen was already reaching for the room phone to dial Sergeant King. She listened for a moment then shook her head. No answer. She dialled reception. Falk had his jacket on by the time she’d checked the room number and wordlessly, they went outside and walked the length of the accommodation block. The late afternoon sun had dropped behind the trees and darkness crept in from the east.
They reached Lauren’s room and Falk knocked on the door. They waited. No answer. He knocked again, then tried the handle. The door swung open. The room was empty. He looked at Carmen.
‘In the lodge, maybe?’ she said.
Falk hesitated, then glanced past her. The start of the Mirror Falls trailhead was empty, the wooden sign barely visible in the growing dark. Carmen saw where he was looking and read his mind, alarm crossing her face.
‘You go and check,’ she said. ‘I’ll find King and follow.’
‘Okay.’
Falk set off at a brisk pace, crunching across the gravel driveway, then sinking a little as he reached the muddy path. He was the only one around, but he could see boot prints underfoot. He entered the trail.
Was he right? He didn’t know. Then he thought about the thin girl and the red thread and her mother’s bare wrist.
Never underestimate how far you’d go for your child.
Falk’s steps grew faster and faster until, with the roar of Mirror Falls growing louder in his ears, he broke into a run.
Day 4: Sunday Morning
‘I’ll be able to find my way out. I did it at McAllaster.’
Lauren looked at Alice. ‘You did a lot of things at McAllaster.’
‘Oh God, Lauren. Not again. I’ve apologised for what happened back then. So many times.’ Alice turned. ‘Look. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.’
Lauren reached out, grabbing Al
ice’s jacket this time.
‘Not with the phone.’
‘Yes, with my phone.’ Alice pushed her away and Lauren staggered back a little. The tall shadows around her seemed to waver and she felt a thrill of anger as Alice turned away.
‘Don’t leave.’
‘For God’s sake.’ Alice didn’t turn back this time. Lauren lunged again, feeling a little unsteady on her feet. Her hand closed around Alice’s bag, jerking her back. ‘Don’t leave us.’
‘Jesus. Don’t be so pathetic.’
‘Hey!’ Lauren felt something bloom and burst in her chest. ‘Don’t speak to me like that.’
‘Fine.’ Alice waved a hand. ‘Look, come, if you want. Or stay. Or walk out when you finally realise they’re not coming for you. I don’t care. But I have to go.’
She tried to pull away, but this time Lauren kept her grip.
‘Don’t.’ Her hand ached from holding on so hard. She felt a little light-headed. ‘For once, Alice, think about someone other than yourself.’
‘I am! I need to get back for Margot. Look, something’s happened and –’
‘And God forbid anything should trouble precious Margot Russell,’ Lauren cut her off. She heard herself laugh. It sounded strange in the night. ‘I don’t know who’s more bloody self-centred, you or her.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. She’s as bad as you. You pretend you’re sorry for how you were at school – how you are now – but you turn out a daughter who acts in exactly the same way. You want her to follow in your footsteps? You’ve certainly achieved it.’
Alice gave a cold laugh. ‘Oh, really? Well, snap, Lauren. You’d know all about that.’
There was a silence. ‘What –?’ Lauren opened her mouth but the words evaporated.
‘Forget it. Just –’ Alice lowered her voice. ‘Just leave Margot out of it. She hasn’t done anything wrong.’
‘Hasn’t she?’