CON
In the room next door, scratching his stubble and listening to every word, Con glanced at Gabriella.
‘The sounds on the mountain went quiet . . .?’ he said.
Gabriella looked excited. ‘You go in,’ she said. ‘I want to google something real quick.’
‘Google what?’
‘Just go, Con.’
He stood up, leaving his phone and the earphones with her.
When he walked into Eliza’s room, all eyes turned to him. ‘G’day, everyone,’ he said pleasantly. He flashed his badge, then nodded to Eliza. ‘Sorry I’m late. Had to sort a few things out. My name is Detective Con Badenhorst, but you can call me Con. Murphy, can you give us the room please?’ He smiled at the nurse. ‘I’m sure the hospital can find you something to eat.’
He felt Murphy’s jacket, reaching into the pocket with one hand as he gripped the collar with his other. ‘This is still soaked. Want me to find a heater and dry it off?’
‘Get off me!’ Murphy pushed his hands away and Con pocketed the voice recorder. The nurse took hold of Murphy, leading him out of the room.
‘Hey, we’re not done,’ protested Murphy, even as the door clicked shut behind them.
Con sat down in the chair beside Eliza’s bed.
‘Have they found them?’ she begged, her bloodshot eyes searching his. ‘Anything at all?’
‘The weather has been hampering the search. But they did find Jasmine’s drink bottle, with blood on it.’
‘She had a cut lip,’ said Eliza. ‘From the fight.’
She let her head fall back on the pillow. Con stayed silent. He pulled out his notebook and waited. She glanced at him, down at his notebook, up to his face. He kept an expression of deepest interest, but didn’t say a word.
‘You want to know what happened up there,’ she said.
Con smiled and clicked his pen.
She waited a moment, then began to recount the same tale he’d heard her tell Murphy. The fight, and sending Madison ahead. How Eliza realised the other girls were missing and went back to find them. Things going strange. The silence, the disorientation, the storm.
Con stayed silent throughout the whole thing, jotting down notes occasionally, but keeping his eyes on her. He’d been told his deep blue eyes could be unnerving – he had this trick where he didn’t blink, didn’t waver, just stared, writing notes without looking at the page.
When she’d finished, she fell silent and watched him. ‘Does that all sound mad?’ she finally said.
Con didn’t reply. He let the silence build further. People often provided more information than necessary in order to fill silence.
‘Are you okay, detective?’ She was watching him curiously.
‘Anything else?’ he said, irritated. Neither his eye trick nor the silence was working.
‘Well . . . I think . . .’ she began. ‘It just sounds so stupid, and I honestly think Georgia might’ve been making it up.’
‘What’s that?’ he said, leaning forward.
‘On the path, before the girls disappeared . . . Georgia told me that she thought she saw a figure watching us.’
‘She saw someone? Why haven’t you told anyone?’
‘I thought she was seeing things,’ she said. ‘Even she didn’t tell me right away because she didn’t believe it. But when we walked through one of the patches of swamp, where the trees are clearer, she said she’d seen someone at the top of one of the ridges, one that looks like a fish fin.’
‘Did she say what they looked like?’ said Con.
‘Georgia said that . . . well, like a . . . huge . . .’ Her voice trailed off in frustration.
‘Like a what?’
‘A bear-man.’ She sighed. ‘See? This is why I didn’t tell anyone. Georgia thought she saw a bear in the bush.’
‘A . . . bear.’ Con had a mad urge to laugh, which he quickly quelled. ‘But you didn’t see it?’
‘Like I said, she didn’t point it out at the time. She said she didn’t want to scare any of the other girls, or let them make fun of her.’
‘Did Georgia say anything else?’
‘Just that, whatever it was, once she had seen it, it ducked behind a tree. It didn’t want to be seen. Georgia said it looked like it was carrying something on its back.’
The door opened and an elderly doctor entered. He looked angry. ‘Sorry, detective, I’m not sure who told you you could be in here. Miss Ellis needs to rest. She’s in no state to answer questions.’
Gabriella stepped in beside the doctor. She shrugged at Con, sipping a coffee she must have weaselled out of the hospital staff. ‘I told him you needed more time, but he insisted.’
Con felt another flash of irritation, but he hid it. ‘Sorry, mate, but this is important,’ he said to the doctor. ‘Lives might be at stake.’
‘Don’t call me mate, it’s crass,’ said the doctor, but he softened. ‘How much longer?’
‘Eliza, this other figure – however weird, it might be our only lead. Is there anything else? Could you take us back to that location?’
‘Maybe? Right now, in this state, I’m not sure.’ She pointed angrily at her own head, indignant at her weakness. ‘But I’ve told you everything I remember. The girls were there, and then they weren’t.’ She put her hands over her face. ‘This has to be a nightmare. I have to help find them.’
The doctor coughed meaningfully at Con and gestured towards the door.
‘Thanks for talking to me, Eliza. It’s been very helpful,’ said Con. ‘Focus on getting better first, but let us know if you remember anything else. That’s how you can help find the girls.’
He nodded at the doctor and stepped out into the corridor, where Gabriella was waiting for him.
‘I spoke to that doctor, but he wouldn’t budge,’ she said. ‘He told me we’re obviously dealing with a concussion, and that doesn’t just mess with your memory, it can affect your personality too – confusion, mood swings, paranoia. It’s not just that she doesn’t remember, she might not be entirely herself, and who knows how long that will last. We need to take everything she says with a grain of salt.’
‘Yeah, I gathered that. Just how hard did she hit her head?’
Gabriella showed him one of the photos from Eliza’s file: it was Eliza’s forehead, showing a big gash surrounded by a purple bruise. ‘She hit her forehead on the ground – but the wound on the back of her head . . .’ She showed him another photo: the back of Eliza’s head, her blonde hair pulled aside to reveal a bloody lump. ‘Blunt force. They found pieces of bark in there.’ Gabriella showed him a third photo. ‘The soles of her feet. Look how scratched up they are: she was walking around barefoot for hours, probably.’ Her face was flushed. ‘Isn’t this weird?’
‘You just missed the best part.’ He loaded up the recording on his phone and played it back.
When it was done, Gabriella let out a breath. ‘Georgia saw someone?’
‘Georgia thought she saw a bear,’ clarified Con.
‘Or a yowie. Could it have been one of the girls on its back?’