Murphy shook his head, watching the window.
‘Warm enough back there?’ Murphy didn’t respond. Finally, Con said softly, ‘What does your gut say?’
Murphy glanced up at him through the rear-view mirror. ‘What?’
‘Your daughter. What does your gut say has happened?’
Murphy’s eyes narrowed, looking for a trap. Then he said, ‘She’s too smart to go off the trail. If she got lost, she’d stay where she was. She’s really protective, so if one of her friends was hurt, she’d probably jump off a cliff to save her. Otherwise, the only way she’d leave that track is if she was taken or if she was tricked.’ He shook his head once, like brushing off a fly. ‘How far away are we?’
‘That bad?’ said Gabriella. ‘We might have some painkillers.’
‘I’m bloody fine,’ he said, ‘but no one has told me anything about what happened up there. Was Eliza the only one there?’
‘You know her, do you?’ said Gabriella.
Con approved of her avoiding his question. They’d agreed to keep Murphy in the dark as much as possible, in case he offered details about the case he shouldn’t know.
‘I know most people in this town. Plus she’s Jasmine’s teacher.’
‘But it’s not just that school connection, right?’ said Con. It was important if he knew Eliza well – it made him an even better choice for drawing sense out of her.
‘I’ve seen her at the pub a lot of times. Even had a few drinks together, back in the day. But not since she became Jasmine’s teacher. Why?’ he said, gruff, those piercing blue eyes narrowed again.
‘Just wondering what she’s like,’ said Con. ‘Haven’t properly met her yet. The ambulance took her almost as soon as we got there. We didn’t get a chance to ask too many questions. She was a bit . . . would you say “delirious”, Gab?’
‘“Delirious” is a good descriptor,’ said Gabriella. She had closed the file on Murphy and was reading the emails being sent their way – Detective Stuart Coops, also assigned to this case, was currently interviewing the teachers, the school social worker, the parents, going through school reports and police records.
‘Yeah, well . . .’ said Murphy, sounding defensive. ‘Eliza’s good with the kids. Best Literacy teacher Jasmine’s ever had. The girls all love her. She went through the ringer last year when her niece killed herself, so this is going to really mess her up.’
‘Her niece?’ That caught Gabriella’s attention and she began typing into her computer to look up the details.
They entered the outskirts of Deloraine, the closest large-ish town – not that any towns in Tasmania were particularly large; the whole island had a lower population than the district of Geelong. Con navigated the streets, all the traffic pulling aside for his lights and siren, until they merged onto the Bass Highway. Now he could really stretch the Stinger’s legs, and they sped towards Launceston.
‘Do you mind if I ask another question?’ said Con. ‘Do you know why Sergeant Doble has a grudge against you?’
‘Yeah, I slept with his wife,’ said Murphy sarcastically.
Gabriella chuckled without looking up from her laptop. ‘Delicious. I love a little country-bogan scandal.’
‘Laugh at me again and see what happens.’
‘Threaten my partner again and I’ll bury you in the ground,’ said Con, his voice sudden ice.
‘Stop it, boys, you’re both pretty,’ said Gabriella, hitting Con on the leg.
The men had a brief staring contest, until Con had to look away to focus on the road. ‘Whatever, mate,’ muttered Murphy, leaning against the window.
Gabriella turned on the radio, so she and Con could talk without being overheard. He glanced back at Murphy and saw his eyes closed.
‘What’s wrong with you, Badenhorst?’ said Gabriella. ‘Getting a bit testy there? Those poor girls going missing a bit of an inconvenience for you?’
‘Keep your voice down, he’s still awake,’ whispered Con.
Gabriella glanced behind her. ‘No he isn’t.’
‘He’s pretending,’ said Con, watching him in the rear-view.
‘I don’t reckon he had anything to do with the girls disappearing,’ said Gabriella.
‘You’re just a sucker for a lumberjack,’ said Con. ‘Listen, I have an idea.’ He leaned across, watching the road even as he spoke low into Gabriella’s ear. Whispering, he explained that he wanted to send Murphy in to coax information out of Eliza, but he needed to find some way to get his voice recorder into the room to capture their conversation.
Gabriella shook her head. ‘Sounds unnecessarily complicated.’
‘I don’t want to take risks, but time is important here. You know what these country folk are like: probably more likely to open up to one of their own.’
‘Con, even after a year down here, I think the only thing you know about country folk is what you’ve read in books.’
They drove in silence for some time, Gabriella tapping at the computer. ‘Eliza’s niece was named Denni King. Her suicide was a messy affair . . . and it involved Madison Mason, Cierra’s sister. She’s some kind of YouTube celebrity. This is interesting.’
‘Jasmine . . .’ Murphy croaked, pulling at his seatbelt as he woke up. He cast around, eyes bloodshot and wide. When he realised Con was watching him, he looked away with a scowl. He covered his face with his forearm, resting against the car door. Though he tried to hide it, his shoulders shook in silent sobs, tears rolling down from behind his arm.
Con shifted in his seat. Still a suspect, he thought.
The Launceston General Hospital was a grey and sprawling complex, the traffic in its avenues and car parks moving slowly in the rain. They pulled into a loading zone near the emergency department.
Murphy jumped out of the car before it had stopped moving.
The three of them headed straight into emergency. Con showed his badge to the nurse at the desk, asking about Eliza.
‘Transferred to the medical ward,’ said the nurse without looking up from her computer.
Con nudged Murphy forward. ‘Well, here’s where we leave you. You’d better get your wrists sorted.’
‘Like hell,’ said Murphy. ‘I’m coming with you.’ He set off in search of the medical ward, and Con and Gabriella jogged to catch up with him. When they found it, the nurse at the desk pointed the way to Eliza’s room.
‘Ah, damn,’ said Con, pausing. ‘We need to call the commander first.’
‘What?’ said Murphy.
‘It’s fine . . . you go ahead,’ said Gabriella. ‘We’ll be right in behind you.’
‘Gabby, I dunno if we should let him in without us —’
‘It’s fine, he deserves to see her,’ she said. ‘Go, Mr Murphy. We’ll follow once we’ve made all the right calls.’
Murphy glanced between them, then loped off into the ward.
‘Good job,’ said Con quietly.
‘Call me Gabby one more time and I’ll blind you,’ she muttered, flicking her hair back.
Con flashed his badge again and asked someone on the staff to bring them Eliza’s current medical file. Then he and Gabriella stepped into an empty room that smelled of antiseptic and urine, and sat on a crisp-linen bed. Con pulled out his phone and AirPods, passing one to Gabriella. He pulled open the app that was synced to his live voice recorder.