Bit of a loose unit, he finally decided.
‘I’ll go down to the station and have a chat with Murphy now, Badenhorst,’ said Sergeant Doble, appearing at his side.
‘Thanks, mate, but I need you here.’
‘Nah, I’m telling you, if anyone in this town has something to do with this, it’ll be Murphy. You saw him.’ He spoke half to himself. ‘Someone needs to find out why he was so keen to get onto that track, and if this blows up any more than it already has —’
‘It’s alright, mate. Thanks for the offer,’ said Con again, eyes roving the car park.
‘Look, Badenhorst —’ began Doble.
‘Detective, a few words?’ came a voice from nearby. It was a newswoman, closing in fast.
Her approach identified him to the gaggle of media huddled under a shell of umbrellas. They came swarming like seagulls to a chip.
‘Of course,’ he said, forcing a smile.
Once word had got out about four teenage girls going missing, media from all over Australia had gathered to this nowhere country town with inhuman speed. Con had transferred to Tasmania from his native Sydney over a year ago, but even there he’d rarely seen so much media assemble so fast.
Commander Normandy should have been dealing with them. Which, of course, meant Con would be dealing with them. It’s all part of the job, he reminded himself. But damn, he wanted this case solved as quickly as possible.
‘Are you expecting to find the girls safe and unharmed?’ asked one journalist.
‘We are hoping for the best, of course, but preparing for any eventuality.’
‘But the Tiers are dangerous, especially this area,’ prompted another. ‘What safety precautions are the SES taking?’
‘They’re trained for situations exactly like this.’
The media swarm shuffled, jostling for position.
‘Could the girls have just run away?’
‘Considering the conditions, it’s not likely,’ said Con.
‘Is there an assumed connection to the 1985 disappearances in the Meander Valley area? Teenage girls, taken from bushland?’ The journalist paused for effect. ‘Is the Hungry Man active again?’
The swarm pressed closer.
‘We have four teenage girls missing on a hiking track in a storm,’ said Con. ‘So it would be helpful not to make it bigger than it is. It’s not something we haven’t dealt with before, we know where the girls are – they’re up there somewhere,’ he waved his hand in the direction of the looming bluffs, ‘and the SES will get to them.’
‘So why are the CIB here?’
‘Standard procedure,’ said Con with a toothy grin.
‘So there is no assumption that the 1985 killings are related . . .?’
‘No. The 1985 killer was found,’ said Con.
Now the questions came hard and fast.
‘Could there be a copycat killer?’ shouted one newswoman.
‘The family of Theodore Barclay still claim his innocence,’ shouted another. ‘And the bodies were never found.’
‘Should the teenage girls of Limestone Creek be taking extra security measures?’
‘A man was just taken away,’ said another. ‘Jordan Murphy. He’s the father of one of the missing. Is it true he assaulted a search volunteer? Is he considered a person of interest?’
‘Well, yes, but we can’t discuss our suspects yet,’ said Doble loudly.
‘Sergeant, leave this to me,’ said Con firmly.
‘Of course, if anyone has information, please come forward,’ continued Doble, shouting over the top of Con. ‘You can call Crime Stoppers on 1800 333 000, or come down to the Limestone Creek station. We promise you – your safety is our concern. We do not condone intimidation of any kind, and you don’t need to be afraid of men like Jordan Murphy.’
‘Enough, mate,’ said Con.
Doble looked pleased with himself: the damage was done. He muttered under his breath, ‘Out-of-towner dipshit . . .’
Just what Con needed: local police with attitude.
Over the heads of the media, he could see his partner, Detective Sergeant Gabriella Pakinga. She was leading one of the uniformed officers over to the media pack. She shoved him in front of the cameras and shouted, in a husky Kiwi accent, ‘This is Constable Darren Cahil. He’s a local and he knows these mountains, so he’s going to be coordinating the search. Any questions?’
As the cameras and reporters descended on the sharp-eyed Constable Darren, Gabriella pulled Con away, holding her umbrella above them both.
Doble was still alongside him, and Con grabbed his arm. ‘I’ve changed my mind. Head down to the station. You can write a report for me on everything that’s happened so far. I can send it through to the commander.’
Doble looked down at where Con held his arm. ‘You wanna let go of me? I’m not your secretary.’
‘Remember, nice big words in the report. Think you can manage that?’ Con let go and Doble stalked off towards his patrol car.
Gabriella stepped in beside Con with the umbrella. ‘We don’t like him?’
‘Just your usual dickhead. Thinks I’m an arrogant out-of-towner.’
‘You are an arrogant out-of-towner.’ Gabriella’s whole body shook when she laughed.
He sighed and led the way to the command centre tent. ‘What have you got for me, Gabby?’
‘Don’t call me Gabby,’ she said. ‘They’re going to have to go slower with the search. There’s sleet in that rain, it might even start snowing soon. The fog is only getting thicker. The last thing we need is to lose a couple of volunteer searchers over a cliff, and in these conditions they’re just as likely to ruin the girls’ tracks as find them.’
‘Surely it’s not cold enough to snow,’ said Con, distracted. ‘Can the dogs scent anything?’
‘They just sit down. It’s like they don’t want to search.’
‘That’s no good,’ said Con. ‘Dock their pay.’
She snorted. ‘I don’t get it either.’ Then she shivered. ‘First the legends, now the dogs. This whole place is giving me the willies. How do four girls just disappear? Those stories from 1985 . . .’
‘Four girls don’t just disappear,’ he said sternly. ‘Don’t start getting weird on me.’ He pointed up towards the mountains, hidden by the weather. ‘We know that they’re up there somewhere. We’ll find them and then we can go home. And after that you can burn your sage and cleanse your chakras.’
‘Don’t joke about it,’ she said, slapping the back of his head. ‘What about Eliza Ellis and her head wounds?’
Con went silent, footsteps crunching in the wet gravel. ‘Maybe she tripped?’
‘Ah, of course, poor helpless woman just tripped over in the big scary bush,’ said Gabriella scathingly. ‘So, what next?’
‘We wait for the ambos to finish with Eliza and, when they say she’s ready to speak, we question her and then head to where the girls were last seen. Anything we find out in the meantime is a bonus.’
Suddenly it grew cold. Icily cold. White flecks filled the air in a flurry.
Con held out his hand, catching a flake. ‘What?’