‘She’s covering for someone,’ said Con. ‘My guess is her brother-in-law, Tom North.’
‘Melinda is doing well, isn’t she?’ said Commander Normandy offhand. ‘It’s an unusual line of questioning, and a rather specific style: almost like she was coached by someone before she went in there.’ She turned her eyes on Con and sipped her tea. ‘Why is it hard for you to believe Eliza could have been sleeping with Cierra Mason?’
‘I don’t know, maybe because she can’t answer Tran’s questions quickly? Maybe because she doesn’t seem that upset by the questioning?’
Maybe just because it’s too left-field. In a case like this, something has to be normal – the steroid-fuelled gym teacher has to be more likely to hook up with a student than the orphaned English teacher with the dead niece.
‘Unfortunately we have no proof of that,’ said Agatha, as though she could hear his thoughts. ‘Besides, your male intuition and the way you’ve coached Tran both presuppose a particular conclusion. Eliza isn’t here to defend a suspicion: she’s confessed. Madison made the allegation and Eliza has admitted to sleeping with Cierra,’ said Agatha. ‘As with Cierra’s own video confession, we need to take this seriously, and that means Miss Eliza Ellis has just become suspect number one.’
She inclined her head and turned her tea cup where it stood on the desk.
‘However, I agree that . . . it doesn’t feel right. But that doesn’t constitute evidence . . . Unfortunately . . .’ She lifted her tea, holding the cup close to her mouth. ‘You know, I really don’t like that this was all brought about by Madison Mason. If she orchestrated this whole disappearance, any videos she puts out – any information – must have a certain aim. What I would like to know is what she’s hoping to achieve by shifting our scrutiny onto Eliza Ellis.’
‘Then I should go speak with Madison,’ said Con, relishing the thought.
‘Not yet. I forbid it,’ said Agatha. ‘She must be handled very delicately from now on, which you’ll leave to me. And I don’t want a whiff of her planning this whole thing getting out to the public yet. We need that to be handled carefully too.’ She put her finished cup of tea on the table. ‘And another thing. Carl Lenah still hasn’t been found.’
Con shook his head. ‘It would be good to tie up the loose end, but we need everyone working where they’re most useful. I think we can safely rule him out. From what we can tell, he and his family are just deeply suspicious of police.’
‘I agree. If he surfaces before this all blows over, we’ll talk to him, but let’s not make a big deal of it. If we handle him wrong, it only reinforces Madison’s narrative.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Speaking of which – the commissioner has asked to speak to me about that video of you and Gabriella.’
She patted Con on the shoulder as she left the room.
Con looked back at the screen. Eliza Ellis. ‘Why are you protecting him? Are you protecting Tom?’ he murmured. He tapped the table with his fingertips.
Finally, the first part of the interview was over and Melinda Tran walked out.
Eliza sat alone with her lawyer. Neither of them was speaking. The lawyer had angled herself away from Eliza and was very red in the cheeks.
Eliza stared up at the camera, a tiny frown behind her glasses.
‘Good job,’ said Con when Tran entered. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think you’re right: she’s trying to cover for someone else,’ said Tran. ‘She’s not as good an actress as she thinks she is. What next?’
‘Get Detective Coops to bring Murphy in for a chat. He should ask nicely, but without giving Murphy the option of saying no. He was there at the house with Eliza before we arrived: I want to know why.’ Con returned his eyes to the screen. ‘Meanwhile . . . Monica and Tom North are waiting to see Eliza. I say we let them have a chat, but somewhere they can be overheard. Then, afterward . . . how do you feel about teachers, Tran? I think Mr North needs someone to vent to about his sister-in-law’s betrayal.’
‘I’ll offer him a shoulder to cry on,’ said Tran with a wicked smile. ‘Let’s see if he’s a better actor than her.’ She left the room, her high heels clicking.
Con watched the monitor a bit longer, studying Eliza, thinking about his plan of attack for when he spoke to her himself.
The door opened and the young Constable Cavanagh stepped in, her face flushed. ‘Detective Badenhorst? I have a phone call for you, from . . . Pastor Hugh. Sorry, this is my personal phone. He called my number . . .’ She held out her phone to Con. ‘You need to hear what he has to say, but . . . keep it in this room. Don’t tell anyone else from this station.’
The pastor! He’d completely forgotten. That wasn’t a good sign. He took the phone from Cavanagh and, beginning with a profuse apology, listened to what the pastor had to say.
CHAPTER 32
MURPHY
Murphy pounded the steering wheel as he drove home from Eliza’s. He ignored the journalists outside his house and ran inside, slamming the door behind him.
‘Have you seen it?’ said Butch, excited, his laptop open on the table. ‘Madison put up a new video —’
‘I don’t wanna see it,’ said Murphy. ‘Eliza wasn’t sleeping with Cierra and you know it. Let me use the laptop – I’m gonna look at this USB of Madison’s, maybe there’ll be something on there I can take to Con to help Eliza.’
‘We’re calling him Con now?’ said Butch. ‘What, are you two mates?’
‘Shut up, dickhead.’ Murphy shoved the USB drive into the port of Butch’s laptop.
The drive held a folder named ‘Jasmine’s Footage’ and a text file entitled ‘Read Me First’.
Jasmine’s Footage. Murphy’s heart began to pound in his head. Don’t get excited. Madison can’t be trusted . . .
He opened the text file and began reading:
Mr Murphy,
I know you probably hate me, and I understand. I would if I were you.
I promise I don’t know where Jasmine is. And I don’t know what happened to Georgia, or why Bree’s backpack was still at the Fisherman’s Hut. But if Jasmine’s and Cierra’s backpacks are gone, I know that they’re safe. I’m sure of it.
I think it’d be good for you to understand why Jasmine chose to be part of this, why she chose to disappear for six months. Why she played along with my plan. Here’s all the footage I have of her.
If you share this footage with anyone else, I’ll end you.
Once you see what’s in the folder, you’ll realise that I can. Start with video #1.
Lots of Love,
Madison xoxo
The drive held six numbered MP4 files.
‘What is it?’ said Butch.
Disappear for six months . . .
‘I’ll be in my room,’ said Murphy, taking the laptop down the hallway and ignoring Butch’s protest.
He made sure the worn door was firmly closed and sat on his bed, the springs squeaking. He clicked open the first video.
It was Jasmine. She was sitting on Madison’s bed. Her make-up was heavy, her shoulders back, and she had been crying.