To the Sea

  ‘Keep going,’ said Tony.

  ‘He says that he and a couple of other locals have often wondered how Eva and Zoe Kennett get out to the islands. No one has ever seen them swimming out there, and they all think that would be just about impossible anyway, but Mr Coombes says he has seen them out there and no boat went anywhere near the island.’

  ‘Do you want my opinion, sir?’ asked Jack.

  ‘Not really,’ said Paul.

  Eric continued.

  ‘Mr Coombes told me of a day back in the 1970s. He said he was in his boat coming back from a day’s fishing out in the channel and saw Eva Kennett, who was in her twenties then, he thought, sitting out on Black Arm Island. He had come in to the island and asked her if she was OK. She called back that she was fine. He asked her if she wanted a lift back to Rosetta and she said no, her husband would be out to get her in a little while. Mr Coombes was very concerned as it was getting dark and he hadn’t seen any boats moored at the Rosetta jetty. If John Kennett had to get a boat out of the boatshed, it would be well past dark by the time he got out to pick up his wife and the moon was rising late that night. Eva Kennett was also just wearing bathers, according to Mr Coombes, and it was a very cold day. He offered her his coat but she declined. Mr Coombes tried very hard to get Eva Kennett to come with him and save her husband the trip but she insisted on staying on the island.

  Mr Coombes says he left but remained concerned and kept an eye out for John Kennett’s boat. After some time, and not seeing a boat go over to the island, Mr Coombes moored at the Rosetta jetty and walked up to the house to tell John Kennett that his wife was waiting for him on Black Arm Island. He was very worried by this stage, he said. As he walked up onto the verandah, he saw Eva Kennett inside. She was dressed and was drying her hair with a towel. John Kennett was sitting in an armchair talking to her and looked very relaxed and did not look like he had left the house recently. Their two little children were there in the lounge room too in their pyjamas. Mr Coombes said he was absolutely certain that no boat went over to the island for Eva Kennett. There was no boat moored at the Rosetta jetty other than his. He didn’t go into the house.’

  ‘But he is eighty-eight years old,’ said Jack.

  ‘Mr Coombes said there have been similar incidents over the years. When I spoke to another neighbour, Mr Russell Goodsir, he told me he has seen Eva and Zoe Kennett out on the islands. Both Mr Coombes and Mr Goodsir told me that some of the locals call Eva and Zoe Kennett “the mermaids”. Although none of the people I spoke to said they had ever seen Eva or Zoe Kennett actually swimming far from shore.’

  ‘What about your interviews, Jack?’ asked Tony.

  Eric looked relieved that Tony had not dismissed his statements.

  ‘Well, I interviewed three households. They all said the Kennetts spend a lot of time on the water but I didn’t get any stories like Eric’s.’

  Tony let them both finish their reports. The Kennetts were good neighbours. Quiet. Their large donations got the community hall and the local fire station built. But a few of the locals who had been here a long time and kept an eye to the sea had noticed something.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Tony. He’d heard enough. ‘Jack, can you check Zoe’s social media sites? Save all recent action for both forensics and me and then close them all down. Do you know how to do that? Legally?’

  The press would want photos and he guessed the Kennetts would not be obliging. He didn’t want Zoe’s sites trawled by strangers.

  ‘Yes, sir, I can do it. Legally.’

  ‘Good. Make it your top priority. And double-check her phone. See if there has been any action on it in the past twenty-four hours. Send copies of any further traffic to me and then bag it for forensics. We won’t need it again. I assume I already have a copy?’ Jack nodded. ‘Again, top priority.’

  ‘No worries, sir.’

  Tony sent them off. They had a full afternoon’s work in front of them.

  He turned and headed down to the jetty with Paul.

  But they were in no rush. Bill wasn’t going to like the new direction of the search. They stopped on the lawn. The day was still and getting hotter by the hour. The water was silver blue and shimmering. It looked to be giving off heat into the already stifling air.

  ‘So?’ asked Paul.

  ‘So, I’m thinking that Eva and Zoe Kennett can swim to the islands.’

  ‘No one has seen them swimming.’

  ‘Easier to miss a swimmer out there than a boat.’

  In the glimmering silver of the water, Tony could see anything he wanted to.

  ‘So could she be alive? I know what Bill’s said but maybe he’s wrong.’

  ‘I can’t keep this search going forever. Ryan is going to be all over me by tomorrow and, if I’m still tied up down here, he’d be right to. Five days is long enough. She’s not on an island this time.’

  The two men stood for several minutes just looking out across the water. There were no boats in sight. The sea was milky calm and empty. Sadie and Cecile were standing at the end of the jetty leaning against each with their shoulders and heads touching. Sadie had her arm draped across Cecile’s shoulders. There were no other people anywhere in the huge landscape. There were no sea birds screeching and swirling in the endless sky or birdsong coming from the bush behind them. The channel islands shimmered in the glare. The house was silent. There was no wind. The world had stilled in the thick heat.

  ‘I can’t hear anything,’ said Tony.

  Bill had been surprised by Paul’s request to head straight out to Storm Bay but he seemed to think Storm Bay was as likely as anywhere at this point.

  Tony had stayed onshore. He could hear Max and Cecile talking in the house. They were talking quietly and evenly; the voices of a husband and wife sorting ordinary day to day business. Tony remembered that Max was leaving today. Apart from the couple’s low voices, the house was quiet.

  The enormous heat of the day had already rolled up the lawn from the water’s edge and across the verandah, flattening Tony as it passed. He felt a slow trickle of sweat roll down the back of his neck into his collar.

  He didn’t know what to do next. He had stopped leading a criminal investigation into the disappearance of Zoe Kennett days ago. For the past two days he knew he hadn’t even been leading a police search for her body. The original crime had turned into a mystery, and he remembered his words to Eva about solving mysteries.

  He walked over to the verandah rail and leaned on it heavily. He was trapped in this single spot. In a single moment. He either believed the story he had been told or he didn’t.

  The sun was burning the backs of his hands. He removed them from the rail and stepped back into the deeper shade where Ben was waiting for him. All he had to do was decide. And yet he could not.

  He turned to Max’s voice behind him.

  ‘I’m off, Detective,’ said Max, holding out his hand. They shook hands firmly and Tony thought it was an oddly intimate gesture. More like old friends than what they really were. ‘I must be at the hospital tomorrow. Cecile has all my details if I can be of any further help.’

  Cecile walked out carrying car keys and pulling a small case behind her. Their two little girls came running out behind her and wrapped themselves around their father. Max bent and hugged and kissed them and they squealed and laughed and gave him lots of instructions about taking Poppy for a walk every day and remembering to feed her and to tell her that they missed her.

  After all the instructions were given and everyone had had enough hugs and kisses, the girls took off over the grass, running down to the beach, leaving the adults back in the deep silence of the day.

  ‘As I said, Detective, feel free to call me any time if I can be of any possible assistance,’ said Max, still looking out at the water and his daughters racing towards it, ‘but I think you’re pretty much on your own with all this now.’

  It was getting late. The sun was low and fiery red in the deepening blue sky. Almost su
nset. The promised storm of the morning was building in deep southern waters. It was still hours away but it was coming. Tony didn’t understand exactly what barometric air pressure was but he could feel the air around him expanding and lessening at the same time. Like a migraine building at the base of his skull. There would be big winds with the storm when it finally hit and the heat of the last three days guaranteed a full thunderstorm, but right now it was stifling hot and breathless. The sky was clear, the clouds far off beyond the horizon. The storm was still pushing up from Antarctica, still fifty k from landfall, but it was coming.

  The little bays which had been full of tinnies, yachts and speedboats all afternoon were now empty. There was still a few of hours of daylight left but everyone could feel what was coming and no one wanted to be caught out of doors. There would be no evening picnics on any of the little beaches tonight.

  The birds, too, had disappeared. There were no gulls doing their usual high gliding and screeching over the water. The raucous calls of the birds in the bush had stopped as if on cue from some invisible maestro. The trees were motionless and silent. The air was heavy with pine and eucalypt oils leached out of the foliage by the day’s heat and now suspended in the rapidly dropping air pressure. Cicadas, which had crackled through the heat of the day, had also stilled.

  The sea was lake-like in its blue stillness.

  Tony stood on the lower lawn watching the human activity in the hush of the closing day. Carl was down at the boatsheds with Jess putting away the last of the boats and the jet-skis. Checking and double-checking everything was secure. Sadie and Edie were organising a couple of the children and all their toys off the lawns and verandahs and into the safety of the house and the garage. Cecile and Con were clearing away some furniture off the verandahs. Tony watched as Con took down the hammock.

  Matt and Josh were securing the cars, bikes, surfboards and diving gear out the back. The two littlest children, Edie’s son and one of Cecile’s girls, were playing down on the sand in the shallows. Close, where the adults could keep an eye on them.

  The world could prepare as best it might but the big low pressure system building in the south was getting closer every minute. Tony knew he should leave soon. He didn’t want to be on the highway when the storm arrived. Bill had headed for Hobart straight from Storm Bay an hour ago. Paul had gone with him. He’d wanted to get home in time to move his outdoor furniture and make sure his girls were home safe. Tony had no outdoor furniture or girls to make safe but he knew he should go. There was nothing to stay for.

  Bill had given up in defeat. He simply couldn’t explain Zoe’s disappearance, and by the time he had called it in to Tony at the end of the search, he didn’t even want to talk about it any more. She must have somehow been dragged out to Storm Bay and was now gone forever. That was both the only rational answer and the most unlikely scenario he had ever offered up for his inability to find a missing person. He preferred his third option. She had never gone into the water. Bill had told Tony he was definitely going to be writing that option up in his final report.

  Ryan would close the whole land search option down, though. A missing drowned girl was a whole lot more palatable to the public than a girl missing from the family shack. Everyone would be looking at the inept cops who had been distracted by a sea search and Ryan wasn’t going to let that happen. And much better she remained unknown, too. The nameless girl who quietly drowned and disappeared that summer when all those other teenagers died in that crash on the east coast. No one would remember Zoe. People would drown all around the Australian coast this summer. There would be at least one fatal shark attack, probably a handsome young surfer. You could count on some fisherman being swept off rocks somewhere and an Asian family on holiday from their own popular holiday country would lose their lives trying to save each other from a rip; something for which there was no word in their own language. A sad summer, but only in between the cricket, Christmas, holidays, music festivals and all the good times that everyone would prefer to remember. Summers were always long and fun-filled in people’s memories, and the general public would have forgotten Zoe Kennett when they remembered back to this one.

  John Kennett’s voice broke into Tony’s thoughts.

  ‘Detective.’

  Tony turned. John was standing behind him on the lawn. Tony liked Zoe’s father. He admired his quiet courage and the manly way he suffered. If there had been tears, they had not been shed in front of Tony. John had been endlessly helpful and courteous to everyone around him. He clearly loved his youngest daughter and he was suffering with her loss. It was raw but contained within himself.

  Families of the missing or the murdered will, at some point in their relationship with the police, turn on them. Or, at the very least, reveal their ugly side. No one blames anyone when it’s all over. The grieving cannot be held responsible for their words or actions, their violent outbursts, their insults and invective. Cops cannot be held responsible for their inabilities to solve a case. Sometimes, the missing stay missing and the murdered don’t always get the justice or vengeance their loved ones are looking for. Everyone understands the rules of forgiveness and acceptance when it’s over and time has passed. But John Kennett had understood them from the beginning. And Tony admired him for it.

  ‘I see everyone has left. Except you, Detective,’ John said. ‘Eva would very much like to see you before you leave. She’s resting at the moment. Are you in a rush to go?’

  ‘No,’ replied Tony.

  Carl had finished locking away the boats and he walked over to join Tony and John on the lawn.

  ‘Time for a drink,’ said Carl. ‘There’s nothing more we can do today and I’m done in. Would you like to join us, Detective? You must be finished for the day too.’

  ‘Yes, please join us,’ said John, reaching out and placing his hand on Tony’s arm, just as he had in the studio the other day.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Tony and the three men walked up the gentle rise of the lawn and onto the front verandah. Con and Cecile had finished moving all the furniture they thought would not survive the storm. Con was sweating hard and Cecile looked hot and tired too.

  ‘Drinks,’ said Carl.

  ‘Excellent timing,’ replied Cecile. ‘I’ll just wash up and give you a hand.’ She looked at Tony walking onto the verandah between her father and brother. She gave him a tight smile.

  ‘Not a minute too soon for me,’ said Con. ‘I wish this storm would hurry up and get here.’

  The others were inside. Matt was sitting on the wide stairs leading up to the library with his phone and a beer beside him on the stair. Tony knew the two youngest children were still down on the beach but he couldn’t see any of the other kids. Like most kids, they’d gone to find a place of their own away from the adults. Just as he thought this, he heard some music start up out on the western verandah followed by some laughing.

  Con was still out on the front verandah keeping an eye on the youngsters on the beach. Tony could hear Sadie and Edie talking in the kitchen and the cool sound of ice and glasses clinking.

  ‘I’ve got it, Con,’ said Matt. He had stood up and was heading out to the verandah, phone and beer both in hand.

  Con seemed glad of the reprieve and Matt took up lifeguard duties on the top step of the verandah.

  The early evening was slowly settling on the house and its inhabitants. The heat of the day hung heavily. There was no escaping it. Only the storm could bring relief. Tony couldn’t see it yet but it was moving closer. He was content to sit in the comfortable chair in this comfortable house feeling this family around him. All waiting for the storm together.

  ‘What’ll you have, Detective?’ This was Sadie. ‘I think we have everything.’

  ‘A beer would be great.’

  ‘Me too, thanks, Sade,’ called out Carl, coming in the side door with a huge bunch of mint in his hand.

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘I’ll have whatever you’re having, dear.’

  �
��Well, Edie is making a jug of mojitos if you’d like to join us girls.’ Sadie took the mint from Carl and disappeared up the stairs into the kitchen again. ‘You’ll love it,’ she called back to her father.

  John looked at Tony and shrugged. ‘My first mojito.’

  Carl and Con sat down in chairs near Tony. No one spoke into the peaceful silence. Sadie brought in three bottles of beer for Tony, Carl and Con. She pulled a low table over between them. Tony took his beer and he and the others raised their bottles to each other.

  ‘Sorry, John, can’t wait for your mojito,’ said Con and he downed half his beer in a few long gulps.

  ‘Christ, it’s hot,’ said Carl when he paused from his drink.

  The three men sat drinking their beers. In no time at all they were all holding empty bottles.

  ‘Same again?’ asked Carl, standing up.

  ‘Not for me,’ said Tony. ‘I must be off soon and two might take me over the limit.’

  ‘Please don’t go before you see Eva,’ said John. ‘I’ll go and check if she’s awake. She would be very sorry not to say goodbye, Detective.’

  Carl and Con looked at each other.

  ‘No, please don’t disturb her,’ said Tony. ‘I will have another drink and leave a bit later if that’s OK.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Carl. ‘Same again, Detective?’

  ‘Yes please, and as I am clearly no longer on duty, I think it’s time to stop calling me Detective. Tony.’

  Edie came down the kitchen stairs carrying a silver tray with a huge clinking jug of minty lime mojito and half-a-dozen tall glasses.

  ‘Well, Tony,’ she said, ‘you are going to regret missing out on one of these.’

  Sadie was close behind Edie carrying two trays of snacks. She placed one on the low table and took the second one out to the kids on the verandah. She came back in and sat on the floor at her father’s feet.

  Cecile joined them. He hoped she could settle in his company. He’d do his best to help her.

  Edie poured the drinks. When everyone had a drink in their hands, they all paused.