To the Sea

  Tony nodded.

  ‘Might be worth leaving it on, sir,’ said Narelle. ‘I have all the final reports from forensics. Nothing.’

  They stood in silence. Charlie’s story was the only one that made sense to Tony. Zoe had stepped off the edge of the world and vanished.

  ‘One more thing,’ said Narelle. ‘We’ve done a thorough search and we can’t find the orange dress Zoe was wearing on the day she disappeared. It seems that none of her other clothes or her many pairs of bathers are missing.’

  ‘Shoes?’

  ‘No, nothing missing according to the family. The thongs she was wearing earlier that day are on the side verandah near the kitchen door.’

  ‘So she disappeared in the orange dress? Not bathers.’ Tony was thinking out loud. ‘So in the water or not? What do you think, Sergeant?’

  ‘I give up on what I think. She didn’t go snorkelling, that much we know. But, right now, that’s all we know.’

  ‘Did you talk to either of Zoe’s friends? The rowers?’ Tony asked. He’d meant to follow up with Narelle yesterday but, like so many things this week, it had slipped away from him. He felt strangely foggy. Hungover, but he hadn’t been drinking. He should go for a long run tonight to clear his head.

  ‘Yes, boss. Both of them,’ said Narelle. ‘One of those incomings on your phone will be my email. I know the principal said they were all close friends and both Annabel and Emily said they were Zoe’s best friends, but they didn’t seem to know her very well.’

  Tony was gazing out to sea.

  ‘You know I want some details, Sergeant,’ he said.

  ‘Well, they couldn’t tell me why Zoe didn’t have a date for the formal or if anyone had asked her. Neither of them knew where Zoe had bought her dress and believe me, boss, that’s strange. And they didn’t know Zoe had broken up with Charlie Morgan until they heard about it from Charlie weeks after it happened. And that is the strangest of all. Girlfriends tell each other that stuff. Endlessly.’

  Tony glanced at Narelle, forcing himself to focus on her.

  ‘They didn’t know what Zoe’s plans for the holidays were,’ Narelle continued. ‘They couldn’t tell me if there were any problems at home. They barely know her parents. They don’t know the other family members at all. Annabel thought Matt was Zoe’s brother. They did both say that Zoe spent a lot of time sailing, which neither Annabel nor Emily do, so they’ve always spent big chunks of their summers apart. They didn’t think Zoe would run away. But, to be honest, they wouldn’t know. Neither girl could tell me one private or personal thing about Zoe. And neither of them seemed genuinely upset. They both cried but seventeen-year-old girls will cry at a photo of a kitten. My impression was that both Annabel and Emily are loving being the centre of attention as Zoe’s best friends right now but you and I know Zoe better than either of those two.’ She paused. ‘I also followed up that text message from Arnie, Arna Westing, the girl who was coming down to stay at Rosetta.’

  Tony had completely forgotten about her.

  ‘She and Zoe sailed together, but, really, Arnie was much the same story as Annabel and Emily. Zoe and Arnie didn’t talk about anything other than sailing from what I could gather. It’s funny, though, Arnie also said that she was Zoe’s best friend.’

  Tony nodded slowly. He was finding it so hard to concentrate.

  ‘I think Zoe was a very lonely girl,’ said Narelle.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Tony. ‘Paul followed up with three of the boys Zoe danced with at the formal. Same story. They all liked her, said they’d been close friends for years, all wanted to be more than friends after she broke up with Charlie Morgan, but none of them could tell Paul anything about her.’

  They stood together in the shade for a few minutes not speaking. Tony’s mind had been dragged away to the water again. It wasn’t his search out there. His search was on land but the land felt empty. Zoe was in the water. And he wanted it to be him, not Bill, who found her. He wanted to save her. Against the odds. Against all reason. His head was starting to pound again.

  Eventually Narelle broke the silence when it became clear Tony had no more questions for her.

  ‘Tell Paul I’ve taken the car and his Bon Jovi CD. You’ll thank me for that later, sir.’

  Once Narelle had gone back to town, it felt like the search for Zoe was already winding down. Tony knew it had to but he wished he could have kept Narelle at Garnet Point. A full team for a full search. He had forty minutes before he was due to meet Bill on the jetty. He wandered out onto the side verandah on the dim northeast side of the house off the kitchen. It was still noisy out on the water with more boats and skiers and kids squealing around in the next bay. The heat was everywhere now, scorching sharp. People would stay out on the water until dark or a sudden southerly drove them in.

  Tony stepped down off the verandah and wended his way through the pines. It smelled dry and beachy in the cool of their shade and he knew this had been a secret spot for kids for generations. He followed the well-worn sandy path interwoven with tree roots as it wound away from the house and towards the folly and the cliff. He could hear Ben softly padding behind him. If Zoe had walked to the cliff that afternoon, she could easily have disappeared from the kitchen onto the side verandah and through the pines without being seen by anyone. Her thongs were still on the verandah near the kitchen door.

  As big as it was, Rosetta was now lost behind the low undulating roll of the land and the dense green pines. The path widened as he rounded a bend beside a huge tree and he was suddenly at the folly. The small ornate structure sat back only a few metres from the cliff edge. The trees and white sand ended with the path. Here was a flat shelf hanging out over the ocean. For more than 180 degrees there was the dazzling blue of the water with scrubby greeny yellow islands dolloped randomly onto the deep blueness. He noted that Bill’s charts were the same colours as the real thing.

  Tony walked past the folly to the edge of the cliff and looked down. It was a dizzying height. Below, the surging swell of the ocean met the sheer wall of sandstone. There was no crashing whitewater, no breakers, just the big queasy swell hitting the land.

  Zoe couldn’t have dived from here. The water was so far away. She could surely only have dived to her death, and Zoe was very much alive for three months after Charlie claimed to have seen her dive from this very spot. Bill was right. How could anyone survive such a fall, and then swim for miles to get back to Driving Sound? It was too much. Only silver-footed Thetis could fly from here to the depths of the sea.

  Tony imagined Charlie standing here looking at the naked Zoe, the girl he loved. She was beckoning him. Come with me. Holding her hand out to him. Come on. It’s awesome.

  Tony was only inches from the edge. His eyes followed the waves and he could feel the rolling swell moving through his body. He wasn’t afraid of heights. Standing on the edge of a fall always gave him a thrill. He loved that faint what if nagging deep within his body.

  That feeling was strong here. The slow pulse of the ocean’s swell was hypnotic and the weird hush of the water against the cliff face was confusing. Such big waves should make a big noise but it was almost silent here. The crowds and noise of the bays were far behind him. The hot sun seared through his shirt and his back burned. He lowered his eyes to his feet. He was certain he could feel, through the soles of his shoes, the rhythmic roll of the ocean as it thudded to a halt forty metres below him.

  He shuffled closer to the edge. There was no wind. He wouldn’t be blown off. The rock was solid, no crumbly or loose bits. He wouldn’t fall. If he went over the edge, it would be because he stepped off. Cold sweat dribbled down his burning chest and stomach. His mouth was dry. The ocean rolled beneath him and he wanted to step into its coolness. Zoe had. He wanted to follow. He leaned forward and his body tilted towards the water. The silence of the day pulsed in his ears, at one with the rolling swell moving through him. He strained to hear anything above the rhythmic thud inside his head and his
chest. He swayed.

  A loud beeping obliterated every other sound. His body startled back into itself and the scorching day. His vision was swimming, liquid silver splashing and blinding him to even the glare of the sun, huge and white in front of him. His knees folded and he landed hard on his back. His left foot dangled over the edge. His heart was racing, sweat soaked him. He’d taken a step off the cliff before fear, or something, dragged him back. His phone was ringing in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the screen. Paul.

  He sat near the edge on the hot rock, holding his sweat-drenched head in his hands, waiting for his breathing to stabilise and for a breeze to cool him. He didn’t trust himself to stand. When he had pushed himself back to the folly he stood and brushed himself down. His shirt stuck to him. Sweat poured down his face and neck.

  Slowly, his vision and hearing returned. He could see the dark blue of the ocean spread out beneath him and the hard blue sky above him. He could not make out where the two blues merged. The day was blue. Tony headed back towards the cool of the shaded path. He looked at his watch. Bill wasn’t going to be happy.

  Paul was on deck with Bill when Tony got down to the jetty. The Sorell boys were also on board, sitting at the back of the boat talking to the divers. Narelle must have sorted the constables into the final island search before she left. He wished he’d thought of it. Paul and Bill were standing in silence. They were waiting. Tony was twenty minutes late but neither man said anything to him.

  Bill was dark. He’d been searching and his men had been diving continuously for nine hours, on top of three teams diving for ten hours yesterday, and there had been no sign of the Kennett girl. This search was going nowhere Bill recognised.

  ‘I thought we’d do the outer islands,’ said Bill. ‘Does that suit you, Inspector?’

  Tony nodded.

  Bill revved the boat and they sped away from the jetty to the first island. The boat swerved suddenly and Jack very nearly got a full dunking. The Sorell boys laughed like the kids they were.

  The cool breeze off the water rushed over Tony’s grateful skin.

  ‘Here,’ called Paul and threw a bottle of cold water to Tony. ‘You look like you need it.’

  Tony almost emptied the bottle in one hit. He was dry and empty.

  ‘What happened to you?’ asked Paul, pointing at him. Tony’s suit pants were still covered in the yellow powdery sandstone of the cliff and his shoes were dusty and scuffed. His shirt was stuck to his stomach and he could feel sweat trickling down the side of his face.

  ‘I went to check out the cliff again.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ joined in Bill, over the noise of the engine. ‘And?’

  ‘And I can’t see her diving from there. It’s an incredible height.’

  Tony appreciated Bill not ramming home any I-told-you-so comments. Hog Island was their first destination. Like all islands, it was much bigger now that it was in front of them. Tony sent Jack and Eric ashore to do the search while the boat slowly circled the island. The divers were kitted up but they stayed seated in the back. When Jack and Eric were back on board, the big boat peeled away and they headed out past the channel.

  The late afternoon panned out just as Bill had said it would. No sign of Zoe on any of the islands or in the shallow waters around the islands. They even swung by the base of the cliff. The swell was just as big as it had been when Tony had looked down on it from above earlier. Bill confirmed the ledge was thirty-four metres above the water. He killed any idea of a diver going in to look for anything. They didn’t discuss it but Zoe wasn’t there and it was clear Bill hadn’t ever really believed she would be.

  They pulled back into the jetty as it was getting dark. It was after nine. Tony dismissed the Sorell boys, wishing them a Happy New Year, and acknowledged the lateness of their shift. They’d put in a twelve-hour day with no breaks. If they were unhappy about it, they didn’t show it. Anyway, if they were going to be cops, they might as well get used to long hours, complaining girlfriends and arriving late to parties. They headed off over the dunes into the settling dark.

  ‘Do you want us tomorrow?’ asked Bill. ‘We have a missing guy in Lindisfarne and I’ll need to allocate two divers to that search if we don’t find him tonight. But you can have me and one boat and team if you need us.’

  Tony had needed to find something today. He couldn’t justify allocating a DS here again tomorrow. There was certainly no need for a DI. The marines would have to stay involved but probably only one boat and probably only for another two days. The public didn’t like to hear of searches being called off pre-emptively, especially when the missing person was a pretty seventeen-year-old girl from an old Hobart family. But the press didn’t know about Zoe yet. Her family wouldn’t push for an extended search. Zoe was just going to disappear quietly into oblivion if Tony could keep Sally subdued for another twenty-four hours.

  ‘It’s too early to call the search off,’ said Tony. ‘Yeah, I’d like you and a dive team tomorrow if you can swing it. I appreciate that any more than one boat is pushing it.’

  ‘Yeah, unlikely,’ said Bill. He looked exhausted too. ‘After tonight, you can bet we’ll have other searches. Some drunk dickhead will try and swim across the Derwent or fall off the wharf too drunk to know he’s even hit the water. If we’re really unlucky, his drunk mates will jump in to save him.’

  ‘Yep, it’s a fun night,’ said Paul, his big face as sunburnt and as weary as the others.

  ‘Call me at seven tomorrow morning, Bill, and we’ll see where we stand then,’ said Tony.

  ‘Well, I’ll be calling you from my bed at seven,’ said Bill, just letting the new boy know that he didn’t work twenty-four-seven.

  ‘Thanks, Bill. Happy New Year.’

  ‘Not so far,’ Bill replied. ‘Let’s hope it improves.’

  Bill was off into the sunset. Even travelling at a steady twenty knots all the way, it’d be the better part of two hours before he pulled into the dock in Hobart.

  ‘Come on,’ said Tony to Paul. ‘I’ll let the family know we have no news, then let’s get back to town.’

  John Kennett was not surprised at the lack of developments. There was a sombre tone in the house. There would be no New Year celebrations at Rosetta tonight. Max told them he’d be returning to Sydney tomorrow. He had patients requiring his attention. Cecile could stay another few weeks. Con would also be returning to Melbourne the day after tomorrow. Life was moving on without Zoe.

  Tony and Paul were quiet on the trip back to town. They were too tired for chat and there was nothing about the case either of them wanted to talk about.

  ‘I’m really sorry you’re getting back so late,’ said Tony as they were coming over the bridge and into the lights of Hobart. ‘Especially after I promised you would be home early.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. I called Terri earlier to let her know we were doing another island search.’

  ‘Do you need me to come in and make the apology?’

  ‘No need. She sees this job differently from most wives. If it was one of our daughters missing out in that ocean and the cops stopped the search to go to a party, she’d be shattered. Our kids are safe and she expects me to do everything I can to keep other kids safe.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Tony. ‘She is different from most wives.’

  ‘The kids’ll be asleep but she says she has champagne in the fridge and a party dress on. That’s the only party I’ll be needing tonight.’

  ‘Well, thank Terri anyway,’ said Tony. ‘And if she’s got any friends, I’d like an introduction.’

  ‘Yeah?’ laughed Paul. ‘You looking for an older woman now, boss?’

  Tony didn’t respond. He had no idea what he was looking for.

  The two men slipped back into tired silence. Tony drove to Lenah Valley and dropped Paul off at his red brick house in a quiet, leafy cul-de-sac.

  As he drove back down Elizabeth Street towards the city, Tony wondered what to do with the rest of the nigh
t. Rick’s place was close by. The party would be underway. But he found himself driving past Mount Stuart Road. He knew he was going back to the office. He wasn’t in a mood to party and he had more than sixty missed calls and messages on his phone. There would be reports on his desk. And Ryan had probably left a choice turd on his desk or his phone that would be better cleaned up tonight than tomorrow.

  The station was busy. As he walked past the duty sergeant in remand, he asked how the night was heading. The cells were already full. And there were two more revellers waiting for processing. Tony told the sergeant to call the parents of any young ones. Let them take their darlings home. Even the over eighteens if he could wangle it. Bail them and get them out. There were bound to be more serious crimes than being a drunk idiot as the night wore on.

  He wasn’t surprised to see Narelle at her desk. He thought about a firm word and sending her off to her friends. But he was too tired. If this was where she chose to be, he could hardly blame her. He was here, too.

  He sat down at his desk across from her.

  Narelle leaned back in her chair. Her hair that had been so neatly piled up this morning was now in its usual riot. She looked better messy.

  ‘Any luck down at Garnet Point?’

  Her face indicated she’d known the answer before she asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘We going to continue tomorrow?’

  ‘If nothing more pressing comes in tonight, I think we have to. I’ll see it through but I think five days will be about as far as we can be expected to go.’

  One way or another it was going to be over by tomorrow night.

  Tony was lost in thought again. Another young girl gone missing in Tasmania. He had no data but it felt to him that there were more of these cases here than other places. There were all the famous ones. The cold case files of the pretty blonde model, the dark-haired German cyclist, the red-haired freckle-faced teenager, the sad young mum and the journalist holidaying in a beachside shack on an island off an island who stepped off a rickety verandah into the sun and vanished.