Force of Nature

by Jane Harper

  Chapter 26

  The twins were taken away in separate police cars.

  Falk and Carmen watched from the entrance hall. Lauren and Jill stood in the reception area, their mouths slack with disbelief, until Sergeant King instructed them to wait in the lounge. An officer would call them into the lodge office one at a time to refresh their statements, he said. They should be prepared to come down to the station in town if it was deemed necessary. They nodded wordlessly as he drove away.

  Lauren was called to the office first, her face sunken and pale as she crossed the floor. Falk and Carmen stayed in the lounge with Jill. She seemed like a shrunken version of the woman they had met a few days earlier.

  ‘I told Alice it would serve her right if she died in a ditch,’ Jill said out of nowhere. She was staring into the fire. ‘I meant it. At the time.’

  Through the door, they could hear Margot Russell howling. The liaison officer’s voice barely cut through the sound. Jill turned her head away, a pained look on her face.

  ‘When did you know your nephew had photos of Margot?’ Carmen said.

  ‘Not until too late.’ Jill looked down at her hands. ‘Daniel finally told me the whole story on Tuesday, but only because the photos were out in public by then. But he should have told me long before that. If he’d been honest on that first night when he came to our campsite, maybe none of this would have happened. I would have let Alice leave when she asked.’

  ‘How much did Daniel tell you that night?’ Falk said.

  ‘Only that his wife had caught Joel with some photos and that’s why Daniel had been late getting to the retreat. Maybe I should have put two and two together, but it honestly did not even occur to me that the photos could be of Margot.’ She shook her head. ‘Things were a lot different when I was at school.’

  Through the door, the sound of crying was still audible. Jill sighed.

  ‘I wish Alice had told me herself. I would have let her go back after the first night if I’d known. Of course I would have.’ It sounded a little like Jill was trying to convince herself. ‘And Joel is a stupid boy. He won’t be able to fix this with an apology. He’s a lot like Daniel was when he was young; does whatever he wants, never thinking more than an hour into the future. Kids don’t understand though, do they? They just live in the moment. They don’t realise what they do at that age can still haunt them years later.’

  She fell silent, but her hands shook as she clasped them in her lap. There was a knock and the lounge door opened. Lauren peered in, pale and hollow-cheeked.

  ‘It’s your turn,’ she said to Jill.

  ‘What did they ask?’

  ‘Same as before. They wanted to know what happened.’

  ‘And what did you tell them?’

  ‘I told them I couldn’t believe Alice hadn’t walked away.’ Lauren looked at Jill, then down at the ground. ‘I’m going to bed. I can’t face this.’ Without waiting for a response, she withdrew, shutting the door behind her.

  Jill stared at the closed door for a long moment then, with a heavy sigh, stood. She opened the door and walked out, with the sound of Margot’s cries echoing all around her.

  Day 4: Sunday Morning

  Alice was almost shouting into the phone. Her cheek glowed blue in the light of the screen as her words floated along the path.

  ‘Emergency? Can you hear me –? Shit.’ Her voice was high with desperation. She hung up. Head down, she checked the phone. Tried again, punching in three digits, all the same. Triple zero.

  ‘Emergency? Help us. Is anyone there? Please. We’re lost. Can you –?’ She stopped, took the phone away from her ear. ‘Shit.’

  Her back rose and fell as she took a deep breath. She pressed the screen again. A different number this time, no three-digit repetition. When she spoke, her voice was far quieter this time.

  ‘Federal Agent Falk, it’s Alice. Russell. I don’t know if you can hear me.’ There was a tremor in her voice. ‘If you get this message, please, I’m begging you, please don’t pass the files on tomorrow. I don’t know what to do. Daniel Bailey has some photos. Or his son does. Pictures of my daughter. I can’t risk upsetting him right now, I’m sorry. I’m trying to get back to explain. If you hold off, I’ll try to think of another way for you to get the contracts. I’m sorry, but she’s my daughter. Please. I can’t do anything that might hurt her –’

  A rustle and the tread of a footstep behind her. A voice in the dark.

  ‘Alice?’

  Chapter 27

  Falk and Carmen sat alone in the lounge, not saying much. The sound of Margot Russell’s sobs had floated through the door for a long time, and then all of a sudden had stopped, leaving an eerie silence. Falk wondered where she’d gone.

  They heard a car pull up on the gravel and Carmen went to the window. ‘King’s back.’

  ‘Any sign of the twins?’

  ‘No.’

  They met King in the lobby. His face was greyer than usual.

  ‘How did it go at the station?’ Falk said.

  The sergeant shook his head. ‘They’re getting some legal advice, but for now they’re both sticking to their stories. Bree’s insisting Alice was already dead when she found her, Beth reckons she knows nothing about any of it.’

  ‘Do you believe them?’

  ‘God knows. Either way, it’s going to be a nightmare to prove anything. A forensics team from Melbourne’s up at the site now, but she’s been lying out in the rain and wind for days. There’s dirt and mud and bits of rubbish everywhere.’

  ‘Was there anything of interest in her backpack?’ Carmen said.

  ‘Like a stack of BaileyTennants’ financial records?’ King managed a very grim smile. ‘I don’t think so, sorry. But here –’ He rummaged through his backpack, and pulled out a USB stick. ‘Photos of the scene. You see anything you need, you can ask the forensics guys to show you when they bring it all down.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Falk took it. ‘They’re looking at that grave beside the cabin as well?’

  ‘Yeah. They are.’ King hesitated.

  ‘What?’ Carmen was watching him. ‘What is it? Have they confirmed it’s Sarah?’

  King shook his head. ‘It’s not Sarah.’

  ‘How do they know?’

  ‘It was the body of a man.’

  They stared at him. ‘Who?’ Falk said.

  ‘We got a call at the station an hour ago,’ King said. ‘That ex-bikie in jail has struck a deal he’s happy with, and he’s told his lawyer he reckons the body in that hole is Sam Kovac himself.’

  Falk blinked. ‘Sam Kovac?’

  ‘Yeah. This bloke says the bikies were paid to get rid of him five years ago. Sam had been talking up his connections with his dad, attempting to get in with the group, probably. But this guy reckons Sam wasn’t right in the head, too unstable to be trusted. So when the bikies got a better offer, they took it. The buyers weren’t interested in how it was done as long as the body was never found. They just wanted Sam to disappear.’

  ‘Who were the buyers?’ Carmen said.

  King glanced out of the window. The wind had dropped and the bushland was strangely still for once. ‘They went through a middleman, but apparently it was an older couple. Well-off. Prepared to pay well. But weird. Not quite right themselves.’

  Falk’s mind reached for possibilities, found only one.

  ‘Not Sarah Sondenberg’s parents?’ he said, and King half-shrugged.

  ‘Too early to say for sure, but I reckon that’s who they’ll be looking at first. Poor bastards. I suppose twenty years of grief and uncertainty can do things to a person.’ King shook his head. ‘Bloody Martin Kovac. He’s ruined this place. He could’ve given those poor people some peace. Maybe avoided a bit of heartache himself. Who knows? Either of you got kids?’

  Falk shook his head, picturing Sarah Sondenberg, wi
th her newspaper-print smile. Her parents, and what the past twenty years must have been like for them.

  ‘I’ve got two boys,’ King said. ‘I always felt for the Sondenbergs. Between you and me, if it is them, I can’t throw too much blame their way.’ He sighed. ‘I reckon you can never underestimate how far you’d go for your child.’

  Somewhere, deep in the lodge, Margot Russell’s plaintive wail started up again.

  Day 4: Sunday Morning

  ‘Alice?’

  Alice Russell jumped. Her fingers fumbled to end the call as she turned towards the voice, her eyes wide as she realised she was no longer alone on the path. She took half a step back.

  ‘Who are you talking to, Alice?’

  Chapter 28

  Falk felt completely deflated. From the look on Carmen’s face as they followed the path to the accommodation cabins, she felt the same. The wind was up again, stinging his eyes and snatching at his clothes. When they reached their rooms, they stopped and Falk turned the memory stick Sergeant King had given them over in his hands.

  ‘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.’