The Recipient (23 page)

Then, another bolt of realisation struck.

Her companion.

Adopting a similar pose, the young woman leaning suggestively against Saskia gradually came into focus once Lionel had positioned his glasses correctly. He recognised the girl as the friend from the photograph that Casey had snapped in Saskia's bedroom.

It was Shelley Agutter.

He drew his hand up to his mouth as he examined the photograph. He could not make out the registration plate of the car they were posing with as it was obscured by Shelley's legs. But, all at once, Lionel realised just what sort of vehicle he was looking at.

A low-slung pair of headlights that tapered into the grille.

Highly polished chrome rings, partially obscured by Shelley's leg, captured the glint of the camera flash.

Interlocking chrome rings.

“Casey,” Lionel called into the darkness, his voice hoarse.

On the balcony, Casey stirred in her chair. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice.

“Pa?” she responded.

“You had better come and look at this.”

Shaking herself awake, Casey dragged herself from her chair and threw on her dressing gown. Stepping through the doorway, she approached Lionel, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, but she snapped to alertness when she looked over his shoulder at the computer screen. Lionel looked up at her. He tilted the screen so she could see it more clearly.

Casey's eyes fell across the image. Her jaw dropped.

Saskia and Shelley together. The garish lights of a party. Striped tights and fairy wings.

The car. The Audi.

Casey's knees buckled. All the air left her lungs. Her head swirled as the full realisation of what she was looking at dawned.

“That's it,” she whispered shakily.

___

The line snaked from the courtyard cafe cart well into the thoroughfare. From her vantage point, Casey could still see the cart. Her eyes were focused on the counter where Shelley Agutter was serving.

Casey had set out well before dawn, this time on her own. Her resolve was fuelled by the realisation that Shelley was hiding something significant. In her hand, Casey clutched a piece of paper, a printout of the image her grandfather had discovered last night.

The Audi was no longer a nebulous vision. Shelley had been in the company of that Audi and quite possibly the owner of it. She had told the police nothing of it. There was nothing in the reports Lionel had viewed that mentioned Shelley speaking of a car of this or any sort.

Casey looked down at the image as the line moved forward. There was no mistaking it. The two best friends. The Audi.

She knew
, Casey thought, trying to contain her anger.
She knew all along
.

The line moved closer and Casey moved with it until she was right next to the cart, mere feet from the counter. Shelley hadn't seen her.

As she collected money from the customer she was serving, Shelley Agutter caught sight of Casey out of the corner of her eye. Her face hardened immediately. Fumbling with the change in her hand, and dropping some on the counter, she picked it up and handed it to the young man.

Casey watched her resolutely.

And then she was before her.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone,” Shelley said as discreetly as she could.

“I know about the Audi,” Casey said calmly.

Shelley froze. Her hand shook and her mouth fell open.

Casey watched Shelley stonily. “The night of the accident. There was a car. An Audi.”

“How do you—?”

“Know?” Casey finished for her. She slapped the picture down on the counter.

Casey leaned over the counter. “We need to talk.”

Ashen faced, Shelley turned to her colleague. “Nathan…”

Nathan turned and saw her expression. He frowned.

“Can you cover for me?”

He nodded, gazing worriedly in Casey's direction then back at Shelley. “Are you all right?” he mouthed silently.

Untying her apron, Shelley nodded hastily and hung it on a hook behind her. She glanced at Casey, her eyes filled with fear. “Come with me.”

CHAPTER 24.

A
s Casey followed Shelley away from the courtyard and onto The Walk, she noticed how nervous Shelley appeared. She frequently glanced ahead and behind them, as though afraid she was being watched.

Turning off The Walk, Shelley led Casey to a trio of benches tucked away in a quiet nook at the rear of the mansion. Shelley gestured to one of them and Casey sat down.

“Okay. If you're not with the police or the media, then who are you with?” Shelley asked, he voice shaking. “Were you at Pleasant?”

Casey stiffened. She knew she would have to tread carefully.

“I wasn't at Pleasant. Like I said to you before, my name is Casey Schillinge. I'm looking into Saskia Andrutsiv's accident.”

Shelley frowned, confused.

“How could you
possibly
know about that car?”

“You didn't say anything to the police about it,” Casey countered, deflecting Shelley's question. “Why not?”

Shelley wrung her hands in her lap, then clutched them together in a vain attempt to hide her fear from Casey. She shrugged.

“I…” Her voice barely broke above a whisper. “I was scared.”

“Scared? Did you know who was driving that car?”

Shelley looked directly at Casey.

“No,” she said determinedly. “I don't.”

“You knew she was in that car, the night of her accident. She didn't leave the Pleasant Festival alone, did she?”

She tensed at Casey's persistence and shut her eyes tightly.

Casey considered her words carefully.

“Shelley, the police never closed Saskia's case file,” she said, softening her voice. “It remains unsolved because they don't have any fresh leads that might help them solve it. If you know something, I can take it to them. I can protect you.”

She paused, touching her tongue to her lower lip.

“But, I can also point them in your direction if you won't help me. You're scared of something. I can see that. Help me to understand what it is.”

Shelley looked back at Casey with a tortured expression, only to meet Casey's own determined visage.

“Don't you think Lesia deserves to know the truth?”

Shelley blinked, stunned by the mention of that name. “Lesia? How do you…?”

Shelley didn't finish her sentence. She sensed that Casey must already have spoken to Saskia's grandmother. “How is she?”

“She seems okay,” Casey replied. Then she frowned. “You haven't seen her recently?”

Shelley looked down at her hands once more. “Not since the funeral. I haven't been able to bring myself to. Anyway, I doubt she would want to see me. It was my fault what happened to Saskia.”

Casey leaned forward, softening her expression further. “Shelley, if you know something that can help—that can get to the truth—
please
tell me.”

Shelley hesitated. A weariness descended over her. The bulwark she had erected to protect her was crumbling. She regarded Casey and in that moment, Casey thought that Shelley Agutter appeared decades older.

“I-I just wanted to take a trip down the coast,” Shelley began, biting the inside of her lip. “Sass and I…we needed to blow off a little steam. She had been through a really hard time with her Nana but things were finally starting to look up. Pleasant seemed ideal.”

Casey drew a notebook and pencil from inside her bag and began to take notes as Shelley watched her.

“I got a couple of tickets from a friend. The plan was that we were going to meet up with a group from Melbourne Uni, pitch some tents near the Festival and just have a great time. And we did, at first. Everyone was happy. A couple in the group had brought some weed—nothing serious—but it put us all in the mood.” Shelley's voice trailed off. She drifted into her memories. “On the Saturday, we all walked along the beach from the campsite to Pleasant itself and took in the concerts. The atmosphere was amazing.”

The lines on her forehead deepened with the pain of her memories.

“We were so happy, Sass especially. She really let her hair down, more than I'd ever seen her do before. She deserved to, you know?”

She looked to Casey as if seeking some sense of understanding and Casey, for the first time, offered an empathetic smile.

“Anyway, it was in the evening—Saturday night—when this
guy
just kinda turned up out of nowhere.”

“A guy?”

“I don't know who he was. I'd never seen him before. None of us had. Except…”

Shelley paused and looked down.

“It was like…Sass knew him. She seemed shocked that he was there. It was weird. He turned up in this expensive car. It impressed the hell out of the others. But it bothered me.”

“Why?”

Shelley held her hands out, palms up. “I had this bad vibe about him and like, Sass never kept anything from me. We were close. She never told me that she was seeing anybody.”

“Can you describe him?” Casey asked.

Shelley shrugged and bowed her head. “We were all pretty out of it, myself included. There was lots of, you know,
stuff
on offer that night. I can't be certain what I remember of him specifically. Except to say he seemed
intense
.”

Shelley reached across and took the photograph from Casey.

“I don't know who took this. When he first showed up, we were all clowning around and showing off in front of his car because it was so expensive-looking. Sass played along with it for a bit but I could see she was uncomfortable. It was like, the longer this guy was around, the more she didn't want him anywhere near us. She eventually led him away from the group.”

“Where did they go?”

“Not far. Down to the beach. We all went back to partying at the main stage. It seemed like they were gone for ages. I was getting worried so, eventually, I went looking for them. When I found them, they were arguing.”

“Arguing?” Casey asked. “About what?”

Again, Shelley shrugged her shoulders and she tensed with frustration.

“I don't know,” she said, scratching her head harshly. “It was really awkward. I think she wanted him to leave. He was really cagey about something. And then suddenly, something changed in Sass. It was like, he'd convinced her to go with him.”

“Convinced her?”

“She saw me looking at them. She came to me and said she had to go. She wouldn't tell me where. I was beside myself. I mean, this guy that I've never met turns up out of nowhere and all of a sudden, she's going off with him. It wasn't like her. It was like I didn't know her.”

Visible grief bubbled forth and Shelley seemed to collapse under the weight of it. She lowered her head, supporting it in her hands as she cried softly.

“That was the last time I saw her alive.”

“Why didn't you go to police with this?” Casey asked breathlessly.

“Because,” Shelley retorted. “We got busted that night for possession. ‘E' was freely available and most of us were pretty wasted. It all happened right in the middle of Saskia going with him. I couldn't remember half of what I'd seen. But I also…” Shelley clutched at herself. “I started getting these phone calls a few nights after the accident. Threatening phone calls.”

“From this guy?” Casey asked incredulously.

“I don't know! They were creepy, distorted…I guess so. But it wasn't just the calls. I was getting messages into my pigeonhole at uni. Clothes were going missing from my line. I had a couple of break-ins although there was no sign of anyone forcing their way in. Somehow they were able to just get in. Things—awful things—were being left there. Someone actually
shit
on my bed—more than once. It went on for a few weeks. I felt like I couldn't go to anyone about it. Eventually, I had to get out. I left Melbourne. I put my studies on hold and just left.”

Casey took a moment to comprehend the gravity of Shelley's account. She had no reason to deny that what Shelley was saying was true but it left her facing the reality of another apparent dead end.

Looking down at her notebook, she flipped the page, examining what she had written. She saw a note that read, ‘student papers'.

“Lesia said that Shelley had some kind of trouble with her visa.”

Shelley blinked through her tears and looked at Casey. “I didn't think Lesia knew about that. She was so sick. We deliberately kept it from her.”

Casey leaned forward. “Would you tell me about it?”

Shelley took a deep breath in and blinked back her tears.

“Sass got in a mix-up with the Immigration Department. She'd been working extra hours at the uni cafe to cover the bills while Lesia was undergoing chemotherapy. They were in danger of sinking under debt. Turns out Saskia was in breach of her visa conditions. She got reported and then, to add to the insult, they took her away. Department officers came to the school and just…
took her
.”

Shelley's lip trembled.

“Where did they take her?” Casey asked.

“The detention facility at Flaxley Park,” Shelley answered. “They didn't say anything immediately but they later told Sass that until the situation was sorted out, she would have to remain in detention. It was terrible. They treated her like a common criminal.”

Casey scribbled furiously on the page, which annoyed Shelley, but she continued.

“Fortunately, Saskia's support officer told us he was sure it could be sorted out quickly. That's why we didn't tell Lesia. We figured it was all just a big mistake so we told her that Sass had to go away on a field assignment. I sat with her in the hospital while she was having her treatment.”

“Risky,” Casey said flatly.

“It was. But then, all of a sudden, Sass was out. Just like that. I got a call from her to say she was free to come home. I went and picked her up myself.”

Shelley's expression tightened.

“It was after she was released that I first thought something had changed in her. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I suspected she might have met someone in the detention facility. I broached it with her but she was really aloof. She wouldn't say anything. But I definitely sensed that she was seeing somebody.”

“You think it was him?”

Shelley nodded. “I do. Whoever it was, she kept him secret. Things were weird between us for weeks. But then, suddenly, she changed again. I think it went cold between them. She kinda came back. She was like her old self again. Then, she was…gone.”

Quiet settled between them. A breeze picked up, causing the paper in Casey's hand to flutter. There was nothing left to say. Shelley slumped back in her seat. Having unburdened her secret, she seemed exhausted.

Casey considered the information.

Suddenly she stood, slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder. Shelley looked up and sat forward as Casey stepped around the bench, preparing to leave.

“That's it?” Shelley asked incredulously. “What are you going to do?”

“I'll be in touch if I need anything further,” Casey answered. “In the meantime, you don't need to do anything. Just continue on as you have been.” Casey turned away as Shelley's eyes widened in disbelief.

“But, how can I do that now?” she protested, launching herself forward as Casey began walking away from her. “You come out of nowhere with all of this. How can I be sure you're not putting me in danger all over again?”

“You're going to have to trust me.”

“
Trust
you?” Shelley croaked. “Jesus, I don't even know you. Why are you doing this to me—to Sass? What gives you the right?”

Casey stopped in mid-stride and turned slowly back to face Shelley. Her expression was sad, rather than angry. Slowly Casey unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and separated it just enough so that Shelley could clearly see the scar on her chest.

“Because I have her heart.”

Shelley blinked at the scar, then at Casey. Her knees buckled.

As Casey turned and strode away, Shelley squeezed her eyes shut, then they snapped open wide. In that moment, she felt something instinctual.

“Wait!”

Snatching up her bag, she rushed across the path, closing the short distance between herself and Casey.

Casey watched as Shelley's fingers searched desperately inside her shoulder bag until they latched onto a small object. Teasing it out carefully, she finally liberated it.

She held it out to Casey. “She gave me this that night,” Shelley stammered.

Casey took the small cloth purse in her hand and examined it. It was handmade, its surface adorned with tiny beads arranged in pretty patterns. She could feel the weight of small change inside it, as well as the crinkling of paper against the hard surface of a credit card sized object.

Unzipping the purse, Casey felt inside it, taking out the piece of paper and the card: a Melbourne public transport card. She unfolded the yellowed piece of paper, a torn rectangle of note paper that bore the fragment of a letterhead in the top right-hand edge. Casey's eyes were drawn to the contents in its centre. On it, hastily scribbled in pen, were a series of six groups of numbers and letters.

SX801244

SX708937

SX394923

SX803254

SX987324

SX293875

Casey stifled an urge to gasp. She felt her tongue swell. Saskia's face appeared in her mind's eye. Her desperation. Her silent plea.

Reciting the numbers together, until Casey mouthed them with her…

Until she understood.

“She told me to hold onto this and keep it safe,” Shelley explained. “I don't know what they are but she was
adamant
that I take it.”

Casey blinked away the image of Saskia's face, looking up as Shelley began backing away. She held her arms out by her sides. “That's all I have,” her voice quavered. “There isn't anything more.”