Tell the Truth (16 page)

‘If he couldn't see her then I was going to drive her to Five Dock. But he said he could.' James shrugged. ‘How often does that happen?'

‘What did she say the dentist said about her toothache?'

‘That everything looked okay, it was probably stress from work, causing tension in her jaw.'

Zaina Khan had told them Dimitri said she asked for a clean, though she hadn't needed it. ‘Had you been arguing that morning?'

‘No,' James said. ‘Why on earth would you think that?'

She'd wait until they found Dimitri and found out more about what went on in that room. ‘Have you had more texts from her phone?'

‘Not since the ones that arrived when we were at The Gap,' he said. ‘And I've been good and kept my phone turned on since.'

‘Did you send anything yourself?' Murray said.

‘Just one. I told them to give me my wife back or I would hunt them down.'

‘When was that?' Ella asked.

‘An hour or so ago.'

‘Why then?'

‘Because I was here, alone, angry and fed up. I couldn't stop thinking about it. It didn't help when they didn't reply.'

‘I got a message,' Ella said.

‘What? When? What did it say?'

She handed over her phone.

James scrolled through the messages. ‘More of the same shit. I don't know what they expect me to do. I don't know who they are or what they think I've done. How can I admit to anything?' He thrust the phone back at her. ‘I'm starting to think she's dead and they're playing us for time, that eventually they'll say they killed her because I didn't confess, when really she's been dead all along.'

‘You can't think like that,' Murray said. ‘You have to keep hoping.'

Ella was surprised by the heat in his tone. She said to James, ‘Are you absolutely certain that there's nothing you haven't told us?'

‘Are you serious? My wife's out there somewhere, at best she's injured, at worst she's dead, and you think I've somehow overlooked something important?'

‘I'm not saying you've done it deliberately. I'm saying you should take time and think. It could be something small. It could be something you haven't considered.'

‘I've considered everything,' he said. ‘I never stop considering everything. Whatever's happened to her has nothing to do with me.'

*

Ella drove back towards the office, Murray biting his thumbnail in the passenger seat. The late afternoon sun was low and orange in the city's haze, harsh even through sunglasses, and Ella had to sit her straightest to keep the visor shading her eyes.

She said, ‘I've never heard you say that hope thing before.'

‘Really.'

‘Nope. Never.' She glanced over at him. ‘You feel sorry for him?'

‘You don't?'

‘He's suspect number one.'

Murray lifted a piece of nail from his tongue, lowered the window an inch and flicked it out into the breeze. ‘Or he's a victim whose beloved wife is missing.'

Beloved. It sounded corny coming from his mouth. She blamed the wedding.

‘Don't you think it's odd that he actually said she might be dead?' she said. ‘Most people hang on to hope until confronted with the actual body.'

‘Everyone reacts differently.'

‘Only to a degree. Going big picture, most people react the same way, and there's something off with how he's behaving.'

‘Can't you give the poor guy a break?'

‘Poor guy?' she said heatedly. ‘What is it about him that's sucked you in? Do you see you and Natasha in the posh photo of them rugged up and laughing on the beach? You see yourselves with the nice house, the scrappy yet lovable dog, the super-happy marriage?'

‘So what if I do? Jesus, Ella, not everybody's relationship turns automatically to shit.'

She bit down on her first reply and instead said, ‘He's a suspect.'

‘Or he's a man whose wife is missing and injured, and who might die.'

They didn't speak for the rest of the trip. Fantastic, she thought. This then dinner with Adelina. What an awesome end to the day.

At the office, Murray stormed off to the bathroom and Ella stalked to her desk. She found two messages waiting for her. One was from Rachel Nisbet saying it was important; the other from a Senior Constable Anne Percy at Broken Hill.

She picked up the phone and dialled.

‘Yeah,' Percy said. ‘I saw your email about Angus Wylie and called straight away.'

‘So you know him?'

‘Not exactly,' Percy said. ‘He comes and goes, works for various people, doing odd jobs and so on. I've talked to him a couple of times: once he was a witness after a fight in a caravan park where he was living; another time he helped out at a truck crash, fetching and carrying for the Rescue people.'

‘So he's never caused a problem?'

‘Not for us. He seems a nice guy.'

‘Is he at the caravan park now?' Ella asked.

‘I don't think so. I haven't seen him for quite a few months. That's a little odd, come to think of it. I'll scout past there and check. Are you after him for any particular reason?'

‘I've come into contact with his family in a case,' Ella said. ‘It'd be nice to be able to tell them he's okay. If he wants them to be told, of course.'

‘Let me look around,' Percy said. ‘I'll be in touch.'

Ella hung up. Detectives were gathering, queuing for coffee in the little kitchen, their voices echoing off the tiles and hard floor. She had a few minutes still, and dialled the number that Rachel Nisbet had left.

‘Detective,' Nisbet said. ‘Thank you so much for calling me back.'

‘I'm assuming this isn't about your interview idea,' Ella said.
It better not be.

‘Far from it,' Nisbet said. ‘I wanted to let you know that I overheard someone at the station talking about the call we received telling us that James Durham was at The Gap. Usually we find out about that type of thing via the police scanner, so this was unusual. I managed to get a look at the message and apparently the male caller said, “James Durham is going to jump off The Gap”. It struck me as odd that the caller would recognise him, even allowing for the fact that he was on the news last night, and equally odd was the choice of words. It seems to me that someone would be more likely to say “is threatening to”, or perhaps even “looks like he might”, because they wouldn't want to think the person would really do it. Which made me think that perhaps the caller wanted it to sound drastic so we'd all hurry down there.' She took a quick breath. ‘Also, the phone number was still in the system, so I called it, and the person who answered said I'd rung a public phone box near The Gap. And then I called in a couple of favours with people at other stations and got them to check, and they all said they got the same message and from the same number.'

‘Hmm,' Ella said, thinking about who might benefit from a media scrum, and why.

‘So I hope that's helpful,' Nisbet said.

‘Possibly,' Ella said. ‘Thank you for letting me know.'

‘You're welcome. And if you do ever change your mind about the interview, I'm always here.'

Ella put the phone down and leaned back in her chair.

Murray came back and sat at his desk. ‘You look weird. Who was that?'

She told him what Nisbet had said.

‘Semantics,' he said, opening the weather forecast webpage.

‘But she's right,' Ella said. ‘A bystander wouldn't say “is going to jump”. And why specify who it was? A bystander wouldn't be thinking about that either.'

‘So you're saying what?'

‘That it was James himself who called the media.'

‘Yeah, well, probably to get his face on the news.' Murray frowned at the monitor. ‘Ten per cent chance of rain now on Saturday. Man.'

‘It doesn't bother you that he might've played us all?' she said.

‘He's desperate,' Murray said. ‘Why can't you put yourself in his shoes for a second?'

‘Why can't you take yourself out of them?' she snapped. ‘And stop thinking about your wedding and concentrate on your job instead?'

He looked at her. ‘That's a really harsh thing to say.'

‘You know what I mean,' she said. ‘Just . . . hang on, sit down and let's talk about things. Don't go. Let's talk about the Facebook friends again.'

But he'd already walked away.

FIFTEEN

I
n the meeting Ella sat with her arms folded four seats from Murray, listening to detectives list off the day's activities. It was demoralising. Around and around the investigation went, and what did they really know? There was no news on what had happened at that park in Homebush, nothing new from Stacey's friends, nothing nothing nothing. Plus the dinner was looming, and she kept checking her phone in her pocket, hoping Callum would call and have to cancel, that things were crazy at the hospital and he just couldn't get away. But he didn't.

She and Murray gave their report, listing the details of James going missing then to The Gap; the information about the Facebook friends, including what George Tsu was supposed to have done with Stacey and that he was yet to be interviewed; the texts that Ella had received; the strange behaviour of Marie; Stacey's visit to the dentist and their inability so far to locate him. They sat down again, then Sylvie Catt and Paul Li stood up.

‘The make and model of the folding bike has been identified,' Sylvie said, ‘but it's unfortunately one of around a thousand that was sold either online or by one of two hundred and sixty stockists in the country.'

‘If we could get a serial number we might be able to trace the buyer, but right now we're at a dead-end,' Paul said. ‘But we've asked the local stations in the area around Homebush, where the bike was last seen, to let us know if one is found, dumped in a canal or whatever. Even if the cyclist wiped the bike down, there's always the chance of a print surviving under the seat.'

‘Wouldn't that be awesome?' Sid Lawson murmured in Ella's ear.

She smiled and nodded. His eyes were as bright as ever, enthusiasm and energy coming off him in waves. She felt old and jaded next to him, and as the meeting wrapped up and Dennis assigned tasks, including for a nightshift team to find and talk to George Tsu, all she could think was that now she had the family dinner to face.

*

Aunt Adelina must have been watching from the window, because she opened the door before Ella and Callum had climbed the first step to her parents' lit-up verandah.

‘Welcome,' she crowed.

Ella wanted to say it wasn't her house to welcome people into, but didn't.

Callum shook her hand. ‘It's nice to meet you at last.'

‘It's nice to meet
you.
' She made him walk first down the hall, and whispered loudly to Ella, ‘He smells good.'

Ella wanted even more badly to call the whole thing off.

In the kitchen, Netta was poking the contents of a big pot on the stove with a wooden spoon while Franco looked on. The air was warm and smelled of cooked meat.

‘Osso bucco,' Netta said, after they'd all hugged and kissed.

‘Wonderful,' Callum said.

‘I set the table,' Franco said. ‘Flowers and everything. Come and see.'

The two couples sat on the long sides, Aunt Adelina at the end. She looked like the queen up there, Ella thought, in the perfect position to pontificate both left and right.

The conversation started gently enough, with Netta asking Callum about his work, then skipped to Ella's work, then missing people.

‘Like that ship, the
Marie Claire
,' Franco said.

‘It's the
Mary Celeste
,' Adelina said.

‘Or the Bermuda Triangle,' Franco went on, unperturbed.

‘At least the woman has no children,' Adelina said. ‘Terrible thing for little children to lose their mummy.' She filled her mouth with meat, chewed and swallowed, then looked at Callum. ‘You're wanting children, I hope?'

‘Adelina,' Netta said.

Adelina said, ‘Ella's not getting any younger.'

‘Ade,' Franco said. ‘Leave the kids alone.'

‘It's all right.' Callum squeezed Ella's furiously jiggling knee under the table. ‘You never know what the future will hold.'

Adelina frowned. ‘Is that a yes or a no?'

‘It's an appropriate answer to a personal question,' Ella said.

‘There's no need to be huffy,' Adelina said. ‘This is my family. You're my niece. Nothing wrong with a fond curiosity. Callum, would you marry in a church, and if so, which kind?'

‘How's your dinner, Callum?' Netta asked. ‘Would you like some more?'

‘Just a little would be lovely, thank you.' He pressed his thigh against Ella's.

‘Do you know, Callum,' Adelina went on, ‘my husband and I couldn't have children. We tried, oh my, did we try. It just didn't happen for us. I hope our problem was with him and not me. Less chance of something being wrong with Ella that way. With the genes. Well, you know how it works, you're the doctor.' She gave him a big toothy grin.

‘Adelina,' Franco said, ‘come into the kitchen and help me with dessert.'

‘But we're not finished here yet.'

‘It needs turning.'

‘Pudding doesn't need turning.'

He grasped her arm. ‘Come on.'

When they were out of the room, Netta shook her head in apology. ‘She's getting old. She gets focused on ideas and won't let them go.'

‘It's not age. She's always been like that,' Ella said.

‘It's fine,' Callum said.

It wasn't to Ella. She just wanted to be left alone, for them both to be left alone.

The phone rang in the hall. ‘Excuse me,' Netta said, and went to answer it.

Ella pressed her forehead against Callum's shoulder. ‘Didn't I tell you?'

‘Don't stress about it.' He cupped the back of her neck, his fingers light on her skin. ‘You have to put up with more from my family then I ever do from yours.'

She breathed him in. He did smell good. He felt good too, the muscles of his arm, the cloth of his shirt in gentle folds against her cheek.

Netta cleared her throat in the doorway. ‘Callum, your mother's on the phone.'

Ella sat up. He took his mobile from his pocket and looked at it. ‘Eight missed calls. I put it on silent.'

‘You'd better see if she's okay,' Ella said.

He kissed the top of her head as he got up. Netta sat down opposite Ella and they smiled at each other.

‘He's really very nice,' Netta said.

‘You said that last time we were here for dinner.'

‘Well, he is.'

In the kitchen, Franco and Adelina bickered over the pudding. Ella could just make out the low tone of Callum's voice underneath.

She said to her mother, ‘Did she say what she wanted?'

‘No, but she didn't sound happy.'

‘She knew we were coming here,' Ella said. ‘She must've looked you up in the phone book when he didn't answer.'

They sat listening. Ella wished Adelina would shut up about the consistency of the damn sauce.

‘He really cares about you,' Netta said.

Ella looked at her, feeling suddenly, scarily, close to tears. It was true, he did. And she really cared about him. This is actual love, she suddenly thought. This is what it felt like: she was frightened over their future because of his mother, but there was no doubt in her heart about what she wanted. Not a single scrap.
I want him.
And I want him forever.

The realisation took her breath away.

Callum came back. ‘She said someone broke into her house.'

‘Oh no,' Netta said.

‘She was asleep and didn't hear anything, but she's terrified they might come back.'

It sounded like a doubtful story to Ella, and she read the same thought in Callum's eyes.

‘I'd better go,' he said.

‘But the pudding's ready,' Adelina said behind him.

‘Sorry.' He held out his hand to Ella.

She took it, but said, ‘Is this a good idea?'

‘She says her house was broken into,' he said. ‘The police should attend.'

*

Ella had never been to the McLennan family home. It was a tall two-storey house in Carlingford, with lights blazing from every window. Callum knocked and a moment later his mother, Genevieve, opened the door.

She glared straight past him at Ella. ‘Look who's here.'

‘You said someone broke in,' Callum said.

‘Someone did.'

She walked into the living room. Callum went after her, glancing back at Ella, who hesitated for a second before following. Cushions had been tossed from the matching leather lounges onto the floor. The glass doors on a hutch stood open, and a couple of wine glasses lay broken and trodden into the carpet. A painting had been pulled from the wall and thrown across the room, the hook torn out of the plaster. A TV lay face down on its cabinet, the stereo speakers either side up-ended.

‘Is anything missing?' Ella said.

Genevieve shook a cigarette from a packet and lit it without answering.

‘She asked you if anything was missing,' Callum said. ‘And since when do you smoke?'

‘Nothing's missing. This is what they do.'

‘What who does?'

‘The people who are trying to drive me out.' She held the cigarette between two rigid fingers and gestured with them at the damage.

‘How'd they get in?' he asked.

‘How should I know?'

Ella said to Callum, ‘I'll have a look around.'

Genevieve tossed her head. ‘That's right, go and snoop.'

Ella went into the kitchen. Nothing was destroyed or disturbed. The glass in the windows was unbroken, the doorframe unsplintered, the lock sound. Same in the formal dining room next to it. Family photos hung on the wall and Ella looked at them as she passed. Callum as a teen, his proud parents. Alistair had once been broad and muscular, a far cry from the shrunken man she'd seen in court. Genevieve's smile had been lovely.

‘I don't like her being in my house,' she heard Genevieve say.

‘Mum –'

‘Don't you
Mum
me,' she snapped. ‘She's ruined this family. Why do you insist on seeing her? Are you trying to hurt me? Because it's working.'

‘Mum, you need to stop this –'

‘Because she can hear me? I'm well aware of that, and I do not care.'

‘No, because who I choose to see is none of your business, and because I won't let you talk about her like that.'

Her back straight, Ella walked past them to check the lock on the front door. It too was intact.

‘No sign of forced entry, no damage anywhere else,' she said to Callum.

He looked at his mother. ‘How'd they get in?'

‘So maybe I left the front door unlocked.' She ashed her cigarette forcefully in a saucer. ‘It's no surprise. There's so much on my mind, and I'm here alone, having to deal with it all by myself.'

Callum and Ella didn't look at each other, but she knew this was what he'd expected, and the same went for her. On the drive over, they'd talked about everything else: her work, his work, Adelina (though not the questions themselves; she didn't know what she'd say if he brought those up), osso bucco. He'd had to stop for petrol, and she'd pondered while alone in the car what would happen when they reached this moment, when it was obvious that the break-in was a ploy to draw him back.

She picked up the painting and leaned it face out against the wall. Inside the elaborate frame, three brown cows stood in a meadow. Genevieve muttered something, as if Ella was checking its value, planning to spirit it away.

‘Well,' Callum said, ‘things don't look too bad. So we'll get on, shall we?'

‘What?' Genevieve said.

‘You're safe, the doors are fine, nobody else can get in.' He put the lounge cushions in place. ‘We'll have it tidy in two minutes, then we'll leave you to it.'

‘I'm frightened,' Genevieve said. ‘I'm just an old lady, all alone.'

‘You're so much tougher than you think,' Callum said to her. ‘I've got Sunday free, so I'll patch the wall and rehang the painting then.' He and Ella lifted the TV up. The screen wasn't even cracked. ‘Lock the doors after we go, and you'll be fine. People like that don't come back, do they, Ella?'

‘No,' Ella said. ‘They do not.'

Genevieve sucked a tooth. ‘So you're going.'

‘You don't need me.' Callum hugged her and kissed her cheek. ‘I'll call you in the morning, okay?'

He and Ella stepped outside, and Genevieve slammed the door, turned the lock, and switched off the overhead light. Callum led Ella down the dark steps to the path.

‘You don't think she'd hurt herself, do you?' Ella said.

‘No. In her mind that's weak, and for all her “poor little me” act she'd never want to be that.' He started the car. ‘It's after nine. What do you want to do? Go back for pudding?'

‘Not really. You?'

‘No.'

She put her hand on his leg. ‘How about you take me home?'

‘Oh, Miz Marconi, what are you doing? I'm just an innocent boy –'

She squeezed his thigh. ‘Drive.'

In bed his skin seemed softer than ever before, his muscles firmer, his arms more enveloping as he cradled her to him. His breath was warm on her lips. She ran her hands down his sides, pulled his leg over hers and squeezed him to her.

‘I love you,' she said.

‘I love you too.'

They'd said it before, but it somehow never meant as much as it did right now.