Into the Fog

by Sandi Wallace

  ‘Sorry, I need to go to the toilet too much lately and always in a hurry. Bad time for a queue!’

  Sam smiled sympathetically.

  The housekeeper started for the sink, her gait slow and awkward. She stopped, held her belly, puffed a few breaths, then shuffled on.

  ‘Is the baby coming?’

  Elke’s eyes were wide when she glanced at Sam. ‘Oh, no. I’m not due yet. I cannot have an eighth-month baby!’

  She looked scared.

  Kat asked, ‘Why’s that?’ before Sam could.

  ‘Seventh-month babies can live. Eighth-month babies don’t.’

  Sam was puzzled. ‘But closer to full-term has to be better.’

  ‘No.’ She grimaced with either pain or fear. ‘My baby has to go full-term.’

  ‘Why don’t I walk you back to your place?’ Kat suggested. ‘You could put your feet up for a while. Sam and I can finish here.’

  ‘Good idea. But your ankle, Kat…’ Sam moved to her side. ‘I’ll take you, Elke.’

  ‘I’m not an invalid.’

  Sam saw daggers in Kat’s eyes and backed off.

  The housekeeper objected. ‘No, no, I could not. This is my job. You shouldn’t even be helping.’

  Sam cut in. ‘Catering for an impromptu police headquarters isn’t in your job description.’

  It took another three minutes while the Dutch woman objected and turned paler before she finally allowed Kat to lead her away.

  Mount Isa still had to follow through with the interview and alibi-checks, but Savage was downgraded to unlikely and Franklin couldn’t help but feel flat. They needed a break in the case, but he couldn’t see where it was going to come from now.

  He visualised the unsearched portion of the National Park. There was still a lot of bush to cover. Maybe they’d find something.

  At first, he’d been pissed at having to return to Daylesford for his arvo shift. Then last night he’d itched to set off, even though he wasn’t due to clock-on until 6.00pm. Now, he was glad he’d stayed.

  His gut told him he had one more thing to do here first.

  Georgie ducked behind the summerhouse and stared at the emergency pack of smokes in her hand. She needed one more than ever, but it wouldn’t stop there and she’d be back to square one.

  Which is where we are if Savage is out of the picture.

  She’d wanted him to be behind the kids’ disappearance but should’ve known better than to bank everything on it. If she hadn’t tunnelled in on Savage, she might’ve thrown her efforts at something useful. Instead, she’d wasted time they didn’t have.

  Georgie shook a smoke from the pack and lit it. The first drag made her knees buckle. That cigarette burned too fast and she lit a second from the butt. She took one hit, heard a voice say ‘Let’s talk’ and squeezed against the wall.

  For a second, she thought Ando had addressed her. But when the SES officer came to a stop on the lawned area ahead, Kat joined her.

  Strangely, neither spoke for a few minutes. They stood side-by-side while a baby magpie made squeaky demands for food and a white cockatoo flew overhead, letting out a long screech. In the distance, a chainsaw whined and somewhere, a man laughed. Underneath everything, the TV towers continued their whirling noise.

  Georgie drew on her smoke, watching the end flare in an ashy sunset.

  Life goes on.

  The idea soured in her stomach but she knew it was true. Franklin would return to Daylesford later this morning, back on shift. Tom and his mum were still helping on the mountain here, but soon they’d follow the others home. Back to work, kinder, school, normal life.

  In a strange synchronicity with Georgie’s thoughts, Kat glanced at the woman beside her and asked, ‘What do you do in your normal life?’

  Ando’s wiry grey hair splayed in a gust of wind. Luckily, the wind blew Georgie’s smoke away from them and their words in her direction. She could hear clearly.

  ‘I work in the yard at Mitre 10 in Monbulk.’ Ando faced Kat, flexed an arm and part-circled her bicep with her other hand. ‘Strong as any of the young fellas there and know more than them.’ She chuckled. ‘Actually, they’re a good lot. Half of them are in the CFA or SES too.’

  She seemed to expect further questions.

  Kat said, ‘How come you’ve been here every day if you’re supposed to be working?’

  ‘I save up my holidays. When I’m needed during times of emergency, my boss lets me take annual leave, no questions asked.’

  ‘Do you have a family?’

  ‘Is this 20 Questions?’ The rescue officer chuckled again, lifting a hand. ‘I don’t mind. Nope, no family, except for my two dogs, who you know.’

  She sounded fine with it.

  ‘Have you volunteered with the SES long?’

  Ando nodded several times. ‘Yep. Reached my twenty-five years a little while back.’

  Georgie wished that instead of hiding, she’d butted out her smoke and joined the other two. She wanted to know how many rescues Ando had orchestrated. She took another drag.

  Ando looked at Kat. ‘Are you going to be a journo like your dad’s friend?’

  Georgie choked. Her eyes watered.

  Kat laughed. ‘Dad’d love that, wouldn’t he? He only just copes with his girlfriend being a journo. He used to lump them all into a category almost as low as used-car salesmen.’

  She tilted her chin. ‘No. I’m going to be a cop. If they’ll have me.’

  ‘Well, Ms 20 Questions, you have your interview technique down pat.’ Ando slapped Kat’s shoulder. ‘They’d be crazy to turn you down.’

  They went quiet. Georgie took her final puff and ground out the butt.

  Then Ando spoke again. ‘I don’t harp on about the past, but back in the early days, I assisted in a search at Cathedral Mountain. We were looking for a sixteen-year-old girl who’d been on a school excursion out of Alexandra.’

  Her tone or expression…something told Georgie this wouldn’t be a happy story.

  ‘We scoured that mountain range for weeks. A month after she’d gone missing, a bushwalker found her.’

  She’d have to be dead.

  ‘Coroner concluded she’d fallen down the crevice, probably the day she disappeared, and died of exposure a few days later.’

  Georgie sent a glare at Ando.

  Why the hell would you share a story like that with Kat, when she’s already struggling?

  ‘From that day on, I vowed I’d never lose another kid, let alone three of them.’ Ando stared directly at Kat and dipped her chin. ‘We’ll bring them home.’

  Chapter 35

  Hannah

  Hannah snapped awake when Dicko said, ‘So why’d you nick the scrag?’

  She guessed he meant her.

  Deep Voice didn’t answer.

  She wondered for the fifty-millionth time why High Voice—Dicko—was sneaking her water and sometimes a little food. And why he never said anything horrible to her when it was just him, but when he was with the other man he was really disgusting.

  ‘C’mon, Ealdy.’ Dicko kept pushing.

  Hannah memorised the extra name.

  Ealdy said, ‘All right. Okay, so we were only gonna meet. I’d have my fun, take my pics, you know, the usual. But she fucked me ’round and got me to come back the next day.’

  Hannah went dizzy. He was Haydn, only he wasn’t the Haydn she knew…or thought she knew.

  My Haydn is Haydn Wylder. He’s young like me and totes cute and says nice things.

  ‘And then she told me she was meant to be staying with a bunch of kids and cops. The pigs, mate. I couldn’t let her go back, could I? So I had to take her, didn’t I?’

  ‘So what ya gonna do with her afterwards?’

  Panic fluttered in Hannah’s chest.

  Ealdy laughed, and she knew he wasn’t going to let her go.

  Franklin snuck a glance at the time. Although the Mount Isa cops had promised to be in touch as soon as possible, policing rarely s
tuck to a nice neat plan. The car supposed to meet Savage at the cattle station might have been called to an emergency. Half-listening to Lunny, he imagined numerous other delays to Savage’s interview and the same for his Queensland counterpart’s phone report.

  Franklin was anxious to mount his bike and head home, but only after he’d exhausted his idea here: one spot in the National Park he wanted to personally revisit. He’d teed it up with Ando, and was stunned but then actually not surprised that she was on the same wavelength. The wait for the search to kick off was stretching his nerves.

  He yawned, sucking in a mouthful of air.

  Roll on 8.00am.

  It’s Grand Final Day.

  Georgie had forgotten all about it. Her boys were playing: Collingwood against Geelong. She was a diehard supporter of the Pies but today couldn’t care less. It just didn’t rate against the missing kids.

  She half-watched Dean Pickett fiddling with something. Then he did a ta-da motion calling, ‘Show me the money!’

  He waited, staring at what she now saw was the mobile phone from the line search. Plastic still covered it, except for where a cord curled from the bag.

  Pickett said, ‘Damn. Pick a number – an easy four-digit password.’

  ‘9999,’ someone offered.

  Two others said, ‘1234’ and ‘Four zeros.’

  He tried them all and gave a thumbs-down. ‘Think again, people.’

  Sam guessed another simple combination – the four corner digits on a mobile’s dial screen. ‘1379.’

  The detective plugged it in, then shook his head. He pursed his lips. ‘I don’t know how many more goes we’ll get before we’re locked out.’

  Quiet. Then Lunny said, ‘How about the same numbers but clockwise?’

  ‘1397?’ Pickett did a tight shoulder lift and entered it. A second later, the phone chimed. ‘We’re in!’

  Every person flocked around.

  He pressed keys. ‘Time and date are cockeyed.’

  Georgie didn’t expect success from something lost or dumped in the bush, but she was desperate to know for sure.

  ‘Only one name in the contacts: Haydn.’ He spelt it out, clicked his tongue, then said, ‘Three calls out to him: all fairly short.’

  ‘Leaving messages?’ Georgie suggested.

  ‘Possibly… No voicemail inwards. Looks like this phone’s been wiped or the user didn’t have it long.’

  Someone moaned.

  ‘Don’t you die on me.’ Pickett glared at the handset and gave the broken screen a gentle tap. ‘You good thing.’

  He plugged more keys and mouthed something. He lifted his eyes to the crowd. ‘Inbox message from Haydn: “leavin in 15 ru still comin rikki?” That’s Rikki with a double k and an i at the end.’

  Georgie thought Haydn and Rikki…damn. She sighed, hearing a chain of similar reactions.

  ‘Second message: “where are u?”’

  Pickett added, ‘Third message: “looking 4ward to cing u there soon don’t go anywhere”.’

  So the mobile was irrelevant. Georgie’s mood turned blacker.

  She craved another smoke.

  Morale nosedived after Pickett retrieved the dud messages and Franklin knew they’d hit more dead ends before catching a break.

  A bunch of newcomers had expanded the crowd – representatives from the various agencies: police, SES, CFA, DSE, Ranger Kev and a handful of other Parks Victoria employees, as well as more from the Red Cross. But the oppressive atmosphere lingered.

  Ando raised a hand. ‘Okay, folks. Let’s go over logistics. This is our primary focus.’ She swept a circle over the map. ‘The section of park we didn’t cover yesterday.’

  Franklin picked up her vibe. She aimed to lift the mood and reground them.

  One of the cops crossed his arms. He shook his head, face screwed up. ‘Taking into account the extreme weather over the first two days the children were missing and their lack of preparedness, the chances they could survive this long in the bush are poor.’

  Franklin wanted to thump him.

  Several others agreed with the cockhead.

  Before Franklin could blow his stack, Ando argued, ‘Kids are resilient, especially country kids. They could’ve cobbled together a shelter and found edible stuff in the bush. We’ve had plenty of rain and they could’ve moulded strong bark or something similar into a makeshift bowl to catch water.’

  She was spot on. They weren’t talking about city kids glued to TVs or computers who had to be taxied by parents to playdates with their friends. The Savages were active, outdoorsy and gutsy. When they wanted to catch up with mates, they would jump on their bikes and ride over, even five-year-old Coops. Hanny was thin but wiry and packed a good punch at the boxing studio – she could’ve put those muscles to use making a shelter for her family.

  ‘Hell, they spent time at Doongalla and might’ve found a bucket and filled it from the tap at the toilets,’ Ando went on. ‘For all we know, they might’ve been back after Thursday morning.’

  ‘That’s assuming the boys were with their sister.’ The negative wanker was at it again. ‘The ranger only spotted the girl.’

  Franklin cut him a glare. ‘Hannah would keep them together. She’d look after her brothers.’

  The dickhead laughed. ‘We talking about the same girl that tried to nick off without her brothers in the first place?’

  Franklin seized a fistful of the bloke’s shirtfront. He twisted it, pressing into his Adam’s apple. ‘She left them with adults she trusted—some of them cops—not on their own at Southern Cross Station.’

  The bloke scowled at Franklin. ‘What sort of useless cops lose nearly half the kids on a camp?’

  Ando thrust an arm between them and levered them apart easily. ‘This isn’t helping.’

  The room hushed.

  Then Kat said randomly, ‘Riley’s such a superfast runner that they reckon he’s good enough to be a future Olympian.’

  She was right, although the family would never have the money for a good coach and travel for the Nationals, let alone overseas, so it wasn’t going to happen, and Franklin couldn’t see any relevance.

  She went on. ‘He could race to a water source and back in no time.’

  Franklin nodded. It would’ve helped them more if Riles had run to get help. Factor in the weather and unfamiliar locale and it was easier said than done, though.

  Ando said something, but it was drowned out by, ‘Have you found them?’

  Everyone turned towards the frantic voice and Georgie cringed when she saw Ness. Her appearance lived up to her surname right now – matted hair, filthy clothes.

  She rushed to a stop, half an arm’s length from Jules Manthorp and repeated, ‘Have you found them?’

  ‘Ness, we’ve spoken every half-hour since about five o’clock this morning and we have a meeting a bit later on.’ The detective used a gentle, yet firm tone. ‘We don’t have any news yet but you’ll –’

  ‘Why haven’t you found them yet?’ Ness made a sound that sent goosebumps over Georgie’s skin.

  A young uniformed policewoman gestured to the detective. It looked like an I tried to stop her message and Georgie gathered she was the allocated family liaison officer, with the help of Bernie’s wife.

  ‘Why? Tell me why? Where are they?’

  Georgie couldn’t hear Manthorp’s reply for the mother’s shrieks. She was torn, unsure whether to intervene. But what could she do or say that would make a difference?

  Ness’s body quaked as she gasped for air and Manthorp spoke again, this time her words were audible. ‘We’re working hard to find them.’

  She gently touched Ness’s forearm. The woman brushed her away, then she beat her fists on the detective’s shoulders.

  Manthorp did what Georgie would’ve done, but it probably worked better in view of her solid build. She wrapped Ness in a bear hug and held her until the fight left the desperate mother limp in her arms, still wailing.

  They huddled
like that for a long while, as everyone in the room watched. It felt wrong, yet Georgie couldn’t look away.

  Chapter 36

  The Queensland prefix boded well and in two seconds, Franklin confirmed yet another cop from the Mount Isa station was his caller. It frustrated the hell out of him that he had to spend thirty seconds doing meet and greet – he knew the value of exchanging chitchat and building relationships but just wanted the bottom line, whether Savage was in or out of the frame.

  The Mount Isa bloke said, ‘I guess you don’t really wanna know that I’m knocking off soon to see my six-week-old son – I can’t get enough of the little cutie, ay.’

  He guessed right, but Franklin made polite noises.

  The fellow came to the point. ‘Right, well, we interviewed our Ric Spicer; your Rick Savage.’

  He talked as Franklin scribbled notes. It wasn’t hard to keep up, he spoke so slowly.

  ‘We mapped his whereabouts over the past week, to throw him off scent about our inquiry. And soz about the delay but we took the time to corroborate his movements with his boss, girlfriend, co-workers and a mate.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘All tallied, pain in the arse, ay? But to be on the safe side, we checked flights in’n’out and came up with nothin’ there either. He wouldn’t have had time to drive down and back, that’s for sure.’

  It came as no surprise but was a bloody shame. Franklin rubbed his chin. His stubble rasped – he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days.

  His hand stilled. Ruled out from doing the actual act still left a slim chance that Savage had masterminded the kidnapping and set up the ultimate alibi of being towards the top-end of Australia at the time.

  He said, ‘Anyone comment on Savage acting out of the ordinary this week?’

  The other cop sniffed. ‘We asked, ay. It did occur to us that he might not have done the deed himself but could’ve organised it.’

  His tone was narky: he’d taken offence.