by Jane Harper
‘No, ideally then the Baileys go to prison,’ Falk said. ‘The firm will close, though.’
‘So all the other employees lose their jobs?’
‘Yes.’
‘Including those other women out there with her?’
‘Yes.’
King didn’t look impressed. ‘How did Alice Russell feel about that?’
‘To be fair,’ Carmen said, ‘she didn’t have much choice. If she hadn’t helped us, she’d be taking her chances alongside the Baileys.’
‘Right.’ King thought for a minute. ‘And this has been going on for some time, yeah?’
‘We’ve been working with her directly on and off for three months,’ Falk said.
‘So why would she need to call you yesterday?’ King said. ‘Why the urgency?’
Carmen sighed. ‘The data Alice has given us so far was due to be passed along to the broader investigative team,’ she said. ‘Today.’
‘Today?’
‘Yeah. There are still some key documents we need, but what we had was ready to be turned over for examination.’
‘So have you done that? Turned it over?’
‘No,’ Carmen said. ‘Once that happens, it’s out of our hands. And Alice’s. We wanted to get an idea of the situation up here first.’
‘Was she trying to back out, do you think?’ King said.
‘We don’t know. It’s possible. But it’s the eleventh hour for her to pull a stunt like that. She’s facing prosecution if she does. She’d need to have a bloody good reason.’ Carmen hesitated. ‘Or no choice, I suppose.’
All three looked at the dark landscape that had so far refused to release Alice Russell.
‘So what is it you’re still waiting on from her?’ King said.
‘There’s a series of commercial documents,’ Falk said. ‘Historic ones.’ BT-51X to BT-54X were the official names, although he and Carmen mainly referred to them as the contracts. ‘We need them to tie in Daniel and Jill’s father.’
What had unfolded in the past was crucial, Falk and Carmen had been told. It was Leo Bailey who’d set up the business in its current form, and it was he who’d built the connections with a number of key players under investigation. It might be in the past, but the cord connecting with the present was pulsing and vital.
King went quiet. In the distance they could hear the thrum of the helicopter. It sounded further away.
‘Right,’ he said eventually. ‘Look, at this point, my first and only priority is Alice Russell. Finding her, and bringing her out of there safely. Most likely scenario when someone goes AWOL out there is that they’ve wandered off trail and lost their bearings, so that’s the plan I’m sticking with for now. But if there’s a chance that her talking to you has caused problems with that group, then that’s good to know. So, thanks for being frank.’
The sergeant was fidgeting now, keen to get back. A strange expression had settled on his face. Something almost like relief. Falk watched him for a moment more, then spoke.
‘What else?’
‘What else, what?’
‘What else are you hoping hasn’t happened?’ Falk said. ‘Neither of those scenarios sounds good to me.’
‘No.’ King didn’t meet his eye.
‘So what’s worse than either of those?’
The sergeant stopped fidgeting, then he glanced along the road. The searchers had been swallowed up by the woods, their orange suits lost to sight. The media were hovering at a safe distance. Still, he leaned in a little and sighed.
‘Kovac. Kovac is worse.’
They stared at him.
‘Kovac is dead,’ Carmen said.
‘Martin Kovac is dead.’ King ran his tongue across his teeth. ‘We’re just not too sure about his son.’
Day 1: Thursday Night
Lauren felt like screaming.
It was only the men. She had watched with her heart racing and a sour taste in her throat as the group of five had emerged from the trees. Their white grins glowing as they brandished bottles of wine. Leading the way was Daniel Bailey.
‘So you made it eventually?’ Lauren snapped, the adrenaline making her bold. Daniel slowed his step.
‘Yes –’
His eyes creased and Lauren thought at first that he was angry, then realised he was simply trying to summon her name. He was rescued as his sister appeared through the gloom.
‘Daniel. What are you doing here?’ If Jill was surprised, or annoyed, she didn’t show it. But then she rarely gave much away, Lauren knew from experience.
‘We thought we’d come and say hello. See how you’re settling in.’ He looked at his sister’s face. ‘Sorry. Did we scare you?’
Perhaps Daniel could read his sister better than most, Lauren thought. Jill said nothing, simply waited.
‘Is everyone doing okay?’ Daniel went on. ‘Our camp’s only a kilometre away. We brought drinks.’ He looked to the other four men, who held up their bottles obediently. ‘One of you help the girls get their fire going.’
‘We can do it,’ Lauren said, but Daniel waved his hand.
‘It’s fine. They don’t mind.’
He turned to his sister and Lauren watched them walk away. She went over to the fire pit, where a skinny man from marketing was attempting to ignite a firelighter on a pile of damp leaves.
‘Not like that.’ Lauren took the matches from him. He watched as she picked around a fallen tree at the edge of the clearing, collecting sticks that had been protected from the weather. Across the clearing, Lauren could hear Alice instructing the twins on how to put up the tents. It sounded like the sisters were doing most of the work.
She crouched at the fire pit, trying to remember how this went. She arranged the sticks in a teepee over some kindling and examined her work. That looked right. Lauren lit a match and held her breath as the flame caught, then rose, bathing the surrounds in an orange glow.
‘Where did you learn that?’ The man from marketing was staring.
‘School camp.’
A rustle in the dark and Alice stepped into the glow. ‘Hey. The tents are up. Bree and Beth are in one, so you and I are sharing. Jill’s got the one-man to herself.’ She nodded at the fire, her features twisted by the light of the flames. ‘Nice. Let’s put the food on.’
‘Should we check with Jill?’ The clearing was wide and it took Lauren a moment to spot the woman, standing at the edge with her brother, deep in conversation. Jill said something and Daniel shook his head.
‘They’re busy,’ Alice said. ‘Let’s get started. You and I will have to do it anyway, she won’t know how to cook over flame.’
That was probably true, Lauren thought, as Alice started pulling out pots and rice and boil-in-the-bag beef stew.
‘I remember promising myself at camp that I’d never do this again, but it’s like riding a bike, isn’t it?’ Alice said a few minutes later as they watched the water begin to bubble. ‘I feel like we should be back in school uniform.’
With the smell of eucalyptus and burned firewood in her nostrils and with Alice by her side, Lauren felt the dust breathe and lift on a thirty-year-old memory. McAllaster Camp.
Endeavour Ladies’ College’s bushland campus still featured heavily in the school’s glossy prospectus. An opportunity – a compulsory opportunity – for Endeavour’s Year Nine ladies to spend a full academic year in the remote setting. The program was designed to develop character, resilience and a healthy respect for Australia’s natural environment. And – subtly spelled out between the carefully written lines – designed to keep teenage girls away from everything teenage girls were drawn to at that age.
At fifteen, Lauren had been homesick from day one and raw from blisters and mosquito bites from day two. She was unfit and well past the age where it could still be called puppy fat. Just one long week in, and s
he had found herself blindfolded as well. What was the point in a trust challenge when she didn’t trust any of her classmates?
She knew she had been led away from the main camp and into the bushland, that was obvious from the crunch of leaves under her feet, but beyond that she was lost. She could have been on the cusp of a cliff edge or set to plunge into a river. She could hear movement around her. Footsteps. A giggle. She had stretched a hand out, grasping at the blackness in front. Her fingers closed around nothing but thin air. An unsteady step forward almost sent her stumbling as her toe caught the uneven ground. Suddenly, a hand had gripped her arm, firm and steady. She’d felt warm breath on her cheek and heard a voice in her ear.
‘I’ve got you. This way.’ Alice Russell.
It was the first time Lauren could remember Alice speaking to her properly, but she’d recognised her voice immediately. Lauren, then fat and friendless, could still recall that mingling rush of confusion and relief as Alice took her arm. Now, nearly three decades on, Lauren looked across the campfire at the other woman, and wondered if she was remembering that day too.
Lauren took a breath, but was cut short by movement behind her. Daniel appeared at her shoulder, his face bathed in orange.
‘They got the fire started then? Good.’ His pupils looked black in the half-light of the flames and he pushed a bottle of red into Lauren’s hand. ‘Here, enjoy a drink. Alice, I need a quick word, please.’
‘Now?’ Alice didn’t move.
‘Yes. Please.’ Daniel put his palm very lightly on her upper back. After the briefest pause, Alice let him steer her away from the group. Lauren watched as they almost disappeared to the edge of the clearing, absorbed by the shadows. She heard the low, indistinct hum of Daniel’s voice before it was drowned out by the surrounding chatter.
Lauren turned back to the fire and poked the boil-in-the-bag meals. They were ready. She opened them up. Added exactly the same amount of rice to each.
‘Dinner’s ready,’ she said to no-one in particular.
Bree came over, clutching the flag she’d found earlier and trailing two men in her wake.
‘I saw it right there in the tree next to the path,’ she was saying to them. ‘Maybe you missed yours.’
Her cheeks were flushed and she was sipping from a plastic cup in her hand. She picked up a meal bag.
‘Thank you. Lovely.’ She poked inside with her fork and her face fell a little.
‘You don’t like beef?’ Lauren said.
‘Yes, I do. It’s great. It’s not that, I just –’ Bree stopped. ‘It looks delicious, thank you.’
Lauren watched as Bree took a small mouthful. All meat, no rice. Lauren recognised someone avoiding carbs at night when she saw it. She felt the itch to say something but kept her mouth shut. This was none of her business.
‘If your dinner tastes anything like ours did, you’ll need something to wash it down,’ one of the men said, leaning in towards Bree. He’d refilled her cup with wine before she could answer.
Lauren kept half an eye on them as she got her own food and sat on a log by the fire to eat. She opened the bag. The beef and rice stared back at her. She should eat, she thought, then looked around. No-one was watching. No-one here cared either way. She put her fork down.
A shadow fell across Lauren’s lap and she looked up.
‘Can I have one of those?’ Beth was pointing at the food.
‘Of course.’
‘Thanks. I’m starving.’ Beth nodded at the log. ‘Okay if I sit here?’
Lauren moved up and felt the log creak and dip under Beth’s weight. Beth ate fast, watching as her sister held court amid the men. Bree tilted back her long white neck and took a sip from her cup. It was immediately refilled.
‘She doesn’t like to drink much usually,’ Beth said, her mouth not quite empty. ‘It goes to her head when she does.’
Lauren remembered the bottle of red Daniel had thrust on her and held it out, but Beth shook her head.
‘No thanks, I’m right.’
‘You don’t like it either?’
‘I like it too much.’
‘Oh.’ Lauren couldn’t tell if Beth was joking or not. The woman wasn’t smiling.
‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ Beth crumpled her empty boil-in-the-bag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes.
Lauren did mind a bit, but shook her head. They were outside; let the woman light up. They watched the flames. The laughter and chatter around grew louder as more bottles were emptied. One of the men prised himself away from Bree to wander over.
‘Can I borrow a cigarette?’ He grinned down. Beth hesitated, then held out her pack.
‘Thanks.’ He took two, putting one in his mouth and the other in his pocket. He had turned his back on her before he took his first drag. Lauren saw Beth’s eyes follow him, as he wandered back to her sister.
‘How are you liking BaileyTennants?’
Beth shrugged. ‘It’s okay. It’s good.’
She tried to sound enthusiastic, but fell a notch short. Lauren didn’t blame her. Data archiving was notoriously poorly paid, even for an entry-level role, and the team was housed in the basement level. Anytime she had to go down there, Lauren emerged craving natural light.
‘Are you enjoying working with your sister?’
‘Yeah, definitely.’ The enthusiasm sounded genuine this time. ‘It’s thanks to her I even got the job. She put in a good word.’
‘Where were you before?’
Beth shot her a glance and Lauren wondered if she’d somehow put her foot in it.
‘Between jobs.’
‘Oh.’
Beth took a drag, and sighed out a cloud of smoke. ‘Sorry. I’m grateful to have the work. It’s just all this.’ She gestured around the clearing. ‘It’s not really my thing.’
‘I’m not sure it’s really anyone’s thing. Except maybe Daniel’s.’
Lauren suddenly remembered Alice and looked up. The corner where she’d been standing with Daniel was empty, and across the clearing Lauren could see him now. He and his sister were standing a little apart from the group, watching. No Alice in sight.
There was a distant crack of thunder and the conversation dimmed as faces turned to the sky. Lauren felt a drop on her forehead.
‘I’m going to check that my pack’s in my tent,’ she said and Beth nodded.
She crossed the clearing and picked her way over the taut guy ropes. The sisters had done a good job putting up the tents, she thought as she knelt down and unzipped the door.
‘Alice!’
Alice jumped. She was sitting cross-legged in the centre of the tent, her head down, an eerie blue wash across her face. In her lap, she held a mobile phone.
‘Shit.’ Alice clutched the phone to her chest. ‘You scared me.’
‘Sorry. Are you okay? The food’s ready if you want it.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Are you sure? What are you doing?’
‘Nothing. Really, I’m fine. Thanks.’ Alice pressed a button and the phone screen went dark, her features disappeared with the light. Her voice sounded strange. Lauren wondered for a moment if she might have been crying.
‘What did Daniel want?’ Lauren said.
‘Nothing. Something about the agenda for the AGM.’
‘That couldn’t wait?’
‘Of course it could’ve. You know Daniel.’
‘Oh.’ Lauren’s knees were aching from being crouched in the doorway. She could hear the rain hit the canvas near her head.
‘Is that your mobile? I thought you handed it in.’
‘That was my work one. Hey, do you have yours?’
‘No, we weren’t supposed to bring them.’
A short hard laugh. ‘So of course you didn’t. It doesn’t matter. I can’t get a signal anyway.’
/>
‘Who are you trying to call?’
‘No-one.’ A pause. ‘Margot.’
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes.’ Alice cleared her throat. ‘Yes, everything’s good. She’s good.’
She pressed a button and the screen lit up again. Her eyes definitely looked a little watery.
‘Still no signal?’
No answer.
‘Are you sure everything’s okay?’
‘Yes. I just –’ There was the thump of a phone being tossed on a sleeping bag. ‘I need to get through.’
‘Margot’s sixteen, Alice. She’s okay on her own for a couple of days. You’ll see her on Sunday anyway. At prize night.’ Lauren could hear the bitter note creep into her tone. Alice didn’t seem to notice.
‘I just want to make sure she’s all right.’
‘Of course she is. Margot will be fine. Margot’s always fine.’ Lauren forced herself to take a deep breath. Alice was clearly upset. ‘Look, I know what it’s like. I worry about Rebecca too.’ That was an understatement. Lauren sometimes felt she hadn’t slept a full night through in the sixteen years since the day her daughter was born.
No answer. The sound of fumbling, then the blue screen light appeared again.
‘Alice?’
‘I heard you.’ Alice sounded distracted. Her features were hard as she stared down into her lap.
‘At least Margot seems to be doing well for herself. With the dance award, and everything.’ The bitterness was back.
‘Maybe. I just –’ Lauren heard Alice sigh. ‘I was hoping for better for her.’
‘Right. Well. I know how you feel.’ Lauren thought of her own daughter at home. It was dinner time. She tried to imagine what she might be doing now and the familiar sinking feeling blossomed in her stomach.
Alice rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. Suddenly her head shot up. ‘Why is it so quiet out there?’
‘It’s raining. The party’s over.’
‘Daniel’s leaving?’
‘I think they all are.’
Alice pushed past her, clambering out of the tent, catching Lauren’s finger with the heel of her boot. Lauren followed, rubbing her hand. Outside, the campsite had cleared. The twins were nowhere to be seen, but torchlight shone through the canvas of their tent. Jill stood alone in the circle, with her jacket zipped tight and the hood up. She was picking at a meal with her fork, staring into the dying fire as drops of rain hissed and sizzled. She looked up when she heard them.