Franklin did an ego-stroke. ‘Great job. Any joy?’
‘Not really.’
He cocked his head at the conditional negative.
‘The only thing we came up with—and it mightn’t amount to much—was that he proposed to his girlfriend, now fiancé, this week.’
Franklin rasped his chin again. It was weak, unless there was more.
‘Wednesday night,’ the Mount Isa cop drawled.
Franklin fumbled his pen. ‘Same day his kids went missing – no kidding?’
‘And apparently it came as a complete surprise to his missus, ay. Although she’s about to drop –’
He cut in. ‘She’s pregnant? With Savage’s kid?’
‘You betcha. Could be just a weird coincidence…but maybe deciding to settle down with his new family motivated Savage to finish stuff with his old one?’
‘Getting rid of his old kids.’ Franklin’s mouth dried up.
The Mount Isa cop’s reply was uncharacteristically swift. ‘Or putting together a readymade extended family.’
Neither spoke again for a moment.
Then Franklin said, ‘I prefer your alternative.’
Georgie kissed Franklin to catcalls and sledging from some of the searchers near them. They broke apart. He blushed, but she threw the hecklers a thumbs-up. It broke some tension, but only fleetingly.
‘I’m a shit dad.’ He groaned. ‘I should be taking Kat to get her ankle checked.’
‘Josh has it all set, they’ll be right. He’s taking her in the minivan. He has the Medicare card and your letter of consent to act as her responsible adult. Anyway, it’ll give them something to do. Waiting around here will be like pulling fingernails off.’
He shrugged, as Ando called, ‘Ready?’
Franklin fixed his eyes on the SES officer. His face hardened and Georgie knew she’d lost his attention but tried anyway. ‘Fill me in on Savage.’
‘Right.’ Ando did a starter’s pistol action. ‘We are go! Let’s bring these kids home.’
‘I’ll see you before I leave, Georgie. Just gotta do this first.’ He stepped forward, then glanced behind. ‘Suss out Josh while I’m gone?’
Meaning: get to the bottom of what Franklin had overheard. She nodded, apprehension rippling her spine as it had when he’d first mentioned it. She wondered what Josh’s story was and why the nineteen-year-old was a poor bastard in Manthorp’s words.
As she trekked down the block towards where they would enter the National Park, the property’s beauty struck Sam. Although they were still buffeted by heavy winds, this was the first day since their arrival when blue actually showed between fluffy clouds and the sun made cameo appearances. It highlighted the various greens of the manicured lawns, trimmed shrubs, exotic and native trees of all sizes, and she could smell something sweet – blossom?
Her stride was almost a jog as her short legs struggled to keep up with Franklin and Lunny.
‘So.’ She was dying to know more. ‘What was Savage’s reaction to hearing his kids are missing? Did he seem to already know?’
They had previously discussed the downside to the tide of community and media concern for the missing children: most people now knew about as much as the cops. Savage could be innocent of any involvement and have learnt about his kids from news reports or social media. And in reverse, it’d be harder to trip him up.
Franklin didn’t answer, so she pressed, ‘Boss?’
She shot Lunny a guilty glance. He was both their bosses, but Franklin was the one who’d always treated her as his protégé. The sarge didn’t react.
Franklin replied, ‘Apparently, Savage had heard talk in the local watering hole that a bunch of kids had gone missing in Victoria. But as it’d happened in the Melbourne hills, he didn’t pay any attention. He missed the fact they were from Daylesford, but quite frankly admitted he’d virtually forgotten his kids existed.’
Sam’s eyebrows rose. ‘Did his fiancé, the mother-to-be of his baby, hear that?’
He said dryly, ‘If she did, he’d just spiel off a story that put all the blame on Ness.’
He and Lunny loped on, leaving her behind.
She drew level before speaking again. ‘So, it doesn’t sound like he was distraught?’
‘Yep: “surprised, mildly shocked, but as if it really had nothing to do with him” was how the Mount Isa bloke put it. Savage didn’t even ask how Ness was coping.’
‘Nice guy.’
Franklin sighed. ‘And despite the coincidence of his engagement and new bub, we don’t have anything on the fellow. The locals will keep an eye on him – but it looks like Savage joins the list of dead ends.’
Sam pictured the whiteboard that Ty Long had shown her on the sly that morning. The caretaker and housekeeper had been essentially eliminated as suspects, along with Upalong’s owner Patrick Belfrage, although they hadn’t yet pinned down his wife Catherine for a phone interview.
A number of local sex offenders and nearby brothels also featured on the same part of the whiteboard. They’d been highlighted after anonymous tipoffs, subsequently checked and ruled out.
Sadly, there were still hundreds of other sickos for the Sex Crimes Unit to work through. But instinct told Sam they’d find the key to this case via other means, possibly the line search today or Franklin’s digging at the Daylesford end.
After the search party departed, Josh and Kat set off to see a GP in the nearby town of Monbulk, leaving Georgie at her computer in the study. She normally enjoyed a sense of belonging with her Daylesford friends. Now, she was glad to have some space.
The adjacent room was crowded with cops but she zoned out. Her thoughts bounced around, almost as if she were lucid dreaming.
She came to a decision: she’d only know if it was the right one by following through. She dialled a number. It rang. And rang. After the build-up, she’d be disappointed if it went to voicemail.
‘George?’
She recognised he was groggy and happy to hear from her. She could still interpret his undertones…and that voice came with so many memories.
‘AJ.’
They hadn’t had a conversation since summer, only exchanged the odd, impersonal email and that aborted phone call earlier. She couldn’t think what to say next.
He said, ‘Are you home? I’m back in Melbourne.’
‘Why?’ It sounded rude but she’d panicked. ‘I mean, you were supposed to be in Hong Kong for at least a year.’
‘Didn’t Matty tell you?’
Besides their rushed exchanges about the missing kids, they hadn’t been in touch lately, their friendship strained over AJ and Franklin. ‘Not really.’
‘Mum got shingles, so I came home. I’m not sure if I’m staying, yet. It kind of depends –’
Georgie cut him off, in case he was going to say it depended on her. ‘Is she okay?’ Although she and his mum never got along, she wouldn’t wish anything seriously bad on her.
They talked for the next five minutes about his mum, who was recovering reasonably well, his dad, Matty and AJ’s life in China. They covered off Bron and her girlfriend Jo, Georgie’s mum Livia, and other mutual friends, while she skated over Ruby and Michael Padley, her neighbours in Richmond, and steered the conversation away from their personal lives.
‘George.’ AJ sounded serious again. ‘How’re Molly and Phoebe?’
His dog, her cat, both currently in the care of her housemate, Maz.
Again, she blurted, ‘Why?’ She couldn’t hand back the golden retriever now.
‘I miss them…and us. I want to see you.’
When she didn’t speak, he asked again, ‘Are you home?’
‘No.’ She filled him in on the missing kids and her involvement at Mount Dandenong.
‘Can I come up and see you?’
She pictured it, panicking.
He filled her silence. ‘Please, George.’
Franklin was away and AJ wouldn’t be fobbed off.
‘There’s a place u
p the road—the Dog and Duck—drinks there at 6.30pm tonight. Unless something happens here.’
She ended the call, feeling sick.
This was the point where Sam and Lunny would go with the main group and Franklin would join Ando. Lunny thrust out his hand at Franklin. They shook, with the sarge laying his other hand over the top.
‘Won’t see you before you head off. So, safe trip home, John. We’ll keep you in the loop. But with your luck, Suit, you’ll break the case from that end…if not sooner.’
Lunny calling him ‘Suit’—kidding him about his push to trade the uniform for plain clothes—surely wasn’t meant to be insulting, but Franklin cringed. He wanted to dig out the lead to the kids, and Lunny clearly knew it.
They both chuckled.
Sam shot him an odd look. She seemed at a loss for what to say, maybe struggling with stress.
Dealing with emotional stuff isn’t my forte…
He knocked his knuckles against her shoulder and mocked a very bad John Wayne accent. ‘See ya ’round, kid.’
Hannah
‘Wake up.’ Dicko prodded her.
His torch burned her eyes and she shut them again. He didn’t speak, just fed her a little bread.
Hannah chewed hard, mushing up the bread. When she swallowed, pain tore through her throat and out her ears.
‘Drink.’ He pressed a water bottle to her cracked lips and she took a tiny mouthful, thirsty but dreading swallowing.
She felt the bottle touch her mouth again. Instead of taking the water, she grabbed for where she thought his hand was, somehow connecting.
‘Help me get away.’ Her voice croaked, making her think of her mate Cale. When he had a growth spurt and started to look like a Daddy-long-legs his voice sounded like that all the time. It was hilarious and they all stirred him. But there was nothing funny about the broken glass feeling in her throat.
Hannah held her breath, waiting for Dicko’s answer. He’d been looking after her, so he must care. He must want to help her get away from Ealdy.
She choked when he tipped water into her mouth. He shook off her fingers and she knew time was running out. He never spent long with her.
Her voice squeaked as she tried again. ‘You’re giving me water and that. You must be a nice person. Help me get away.’
She knocked his torch with her forearm and opened her eyes. She saw spots but also made out his face. She thought that looking him in the eyes and begging would help.
But his face made her scared stiff. So angry and something else too – nervous?
Dicko punched her. Her head snapped and teeth clacked. Her brain rattled and her eye puffed up straight away.
‘Stupid bitch. Don’t look at me.’
Hannah’s eyesight fuzzed but she stubbornly stared at him.
Dicko sliced a backhand to her other cheek. Her breath whooshed out and she bit the inside of her mouth, tasted blood and something gritty, maybe chipped tooth.
‘I’m not nice. I can’t help you get away.’
He sloshed the water bottle over her and stalked out.
Chapter 37
Ty’s voice startled Georgie. ‘You look like you need this.’ The constable placed a coffee mug at her elbow.
She nodded her thanks, then asked, ‘Do you think there’s a connection between Zena’s disappearance and our kids?’
He stretched his fingers and his knuckles popped. ‘It has to be considered.’
‘A serial child abductor? Or a gang?’
He twirled his hand acknowledging both as possibilities.
Georgie’s brain raced on. ‘If so, they’re escalating and expanding, taking multiple kids, of both sexes and a range of ages.’
‘Not to mention ethnicity.’
His comment hung.
‘A paedophile ring? Child-trafficking operation?’ She shuddered and he mirrored the action. ‘It’s preferable to think they’re unconnected, isn’t it?’
Ty agreed.
‘If Savage is somehow behind this because he wants to play dad after all, that’d probably be the best-case scenario, yeah?’
He sighed and nodded. ‘Yeah. But it seems unlikely.’
They fell silent, but he didn’t move away.
After a few minutes, Georgie continued her train of thought. ‘It’d be better for Zena too…then there’d be some chance she’d make it home soon.’
Ty didn’t answer. But his face contorted as if he’d envisaged the outcome for Zena if she were part of a child abduction ring.
Georgie fought a rise of nausea. ‘Imagine the hell her poor parents are living through – they’ve had four months of it. It’s day four since our kids went missing, but it feels like an eternity.’
The wind held a strong bite but the toilet block acted as a windbreak. With the weak sun on the back of Franklin’s head came a fleeting sense of peace.
Ando crouched and inspected the area. She was good to work with. He’d found that she wasn’t prone to chatter for the sake of it, which suited him. They’d spent the past hour searching, mostly in easy silence, occasionally sharing an idea or observation.
Earlier, they’d agreed that the historic Doongalla site needed extensive scrutiny. Thick fog had obscured familiar landmarks, but the ranger said he’d chased the kid—presumably Hannah—across the car park, the driveway and lawn where the homestead stood before it’d burnt down. So they’d worked the area intently, fanning out to take in the toilet block.
Ando hadn’t moved for a good few minutes, so Franklin inched closer to the SES volunteer. He stopped before he’d encroached too much and squatted.
‘Have you found something?’
She skimmed her eyes over the surrounds, abstractedly scratching under the collar of her orange coveralls. ‘Nothing certain.’ Her eyes glided some more, before they rested on Franklin. ‘Nope, nothing certain, but it could be that the little ones spent some time here. Of course, the search party might be responsible or some of the mountain bike vandals Kev’s been complaining about – but what’ya make of that?’
He followed her stumpy, calloused finger.
Globs of toilet paper littered the ground; all shapes and sizes. Some stuck to the outside walls of the toilets.
He hazarded, ‘Looks like there’s been a contest to see who could make their balls stick?’
‘Yep,’ Ando agreed. ‘Maybe who could get theirs highest up the wall too?’
Franklin rose, nodding. Then he expanded the theory. ‘Could well be the type of thing a couple of kids would do to fill in time.’
‘Yep. Maybe they were bored or needed something to do to keep warm.’
‘Just the type of thing two little boys would do, you’re thinking?’
Without being conscious of it, Franklin replied to his own question in sync with the SES officer. ‘Yep.’
Before either spoke again, his mobile rang and Ando disappeared into the toilet block while he answered it.
‘G’day, mate.’
Franklin recognised the Olinda cop’s voice from the first word. His very-Aussie-yet-Italian accent was distinctive. In any other circumstance, Franklin would welcome a call from this fellow. They could’ve been mates, as both enjoyed fishing, footy and a pot of beer after work, and both knew they were on a good wicket with their postings at Olinda and Daylesford; the envy of many a uniformed cop, aside from the fact that Franklin had got it in his head he wanted to trade up to detective.
But in this context, tension built in his chest. ‘Has something come up?’
His mind raced. If Bernie had good news, he would’ve opened with Great news, mate. But he’d gone in softly-softly.
‘Nah. Just checking in.’
Franklin exhaled: relieved and disappointed.
‘Vikki and I have personally revisited the taxi and bus services.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Nope,’ Bernie confirmed. ‘But we haven’t caught up with all the locals known to drive or walk in the vicinity around the time of day the kids
nicked off, so we might turn up something from that avenue.’
‘No one would’ve been out in that weather though.’
‘We have some diehards who go out every day at the same time – rain, hail or shine.’
Franklin’s mind flicked to a few Daylesford locals who were renowned for that. He thought they were crazy, but whatever floats your boat.
‘Worth a shot.’ He added, ‘Good luck,’ then shared what they’d found at Doongalla.
The local responded cautiously. ‘Sounds feasible, but it could’ve been there for months.’
‘Maybe. But I’d expect the paper to be more weathered, maybe mossy.’
‘It’d sure be good if you’re on the right track.’
Franklin agreed, with a flit of misgiving. What if he and Ando had read too much into the work of some litterbugs?
‘Another thing, mate.’ Bernie changed the subject. ‘The Powers have finally seen the wisdom of redistributing my cohorts back to Olinda. My boys’re rechecking medical centres and hospitals as we speak.’
More than once in recent days they’d questioned the logic of the other two cops at Olinda having to plug gaps in shifts for the Belgrave 24-hour police station at the bottom of the hill. Didn’t make sense for them to be tied up elsewhere while an emergency of this scale was on in their own patch. Typical bureaucratic bullshit was a consistent theme.
‘We’re hoping the local touch will trigger some memories.’
‘Good thinking, Ninety-Nine.’
‘Ah, a fellow Maxwell Smart fan, eh?’
‘I knew I liked you, Bernie.’
They hung up moments later.
‘If you and Bernie have finished sweet-talking each other,’ Ando called out, ‘you might want to see this.’
Franklin covered the distance in long strides. He assessed the male loo: the branch that half-protruded from the roof above them had busted several sheets of perspex, and patches on the surrounding rafters and floor below evidenced substantial leakage during the recent flash floods. Despite that, he picked up the familiar odour of urine, faint, yet present.
Into the Fog Page 19