Gabriella let go of Eliza, running to him.
Suddenly Murphy appeared in front of Eliza. ‘Don’t look at her, Eliza. Look at me.’ He put his big hands on either side of her face to drag her eyes away from Bree’s body.
‘Why are all these people here?’ Eliza struggled to focus her vision.
‘Madison’s vigil. Weren’t you with us?’
‘Madison is here?’ Eliza spun around. ‘Where?’
It was chaos. People swarming around the clearing, voices mingling, screams and sobs. Children and adults, teenagers and the elderly, locals and strangers, people everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.
‘Where are you, Madison?’ screamed Eliza, her voice lost in the cacophony. ‘Are you happy? Are you happy?’
But Madison was nowhere to be seen.
CHAPTER 38
CON
It was a long night up at the Hanging Tree.
Con watched as the forensics team went to work, the clearing lit up by their floodlights, casting everything into high relief and drawing biting insects to the scene. And always, the devils howled in the night.
Finally, Bree’s body was lowered out of the tree. He had vomited twice already, back in the trees where nobody could see, but he still shook uncontrollably.
Pull it together, Cornelius, he told himself, digging his nails into his palms to force the images of the Jaguar girls out of his head. There’s nothing you could’ve done.
He asked to inspect the wooden statue that had been tied to her wrist before Forensics bagged it. The statue had baling twine in a noose around its neck and chips of bone that had been hammered into its eyes. They hadn’t tested it yet, but everyone felt sure they were animal bones. Forensics continued to do their job, their team leader speaking to the recently arrived commander and Melinda Tran.
‘It was part of that ritual Yani told us about,’ said Murphy, crouching next to Con at the edge of the clearing. ‘Blind its eyes, hang a girl from a tree to die.’
Con didn’t reply. He suspected Gabriella wanted to tell him the same thing – she’d been calling his phone on repeat ever since he’d dismissed her. Finding her in the crowd at the tree had been a blow – she was one of the few people who understood what seeing Bree’s body would do to him, triggered in him. It was always worse when someone knew. He’d avoided her and she had eventually left, presumably to take Eliza home, with the teacher in a serious state.
Gabriella was calling again. He knew, deep down, he should answer. But not with another dead girl lying on a tarp, hidden from view by a tent. Not with so many of the vigil walkers still hovering at the edges of the police tape, watching with curiosity and eager cameras. Not with the commander so close, able to overhear.
Even when he wasn’t looking at the body, his mind’s eye saw the bloated corpse of Bree Wilkins, her lank blonde hair such a stark contrast to her purple face. She had been dead for days.
This was not a ritual killing. There was nothing I could’ve done. She killed herself.
She simply killed herself.
Except, how has no one found her until now? That body is old.
Agatha finished talking to Forensics and walked over to Con.
‘Cornelius,’ she said, ‘why are you shaking?’
‘It’s cold,’ he said.
‘Then why are you sweating?’ She shone her torch in his face. ‘Good Lord, man.’
He raised his arm to shade his eyes and she grabbed his hand, her fingers pressed around his wrist. She pulled him closer.
‘Go back to the Inn, Cornelius,’ she said firmly. ‘Everything can wait until tomorrow.’
‘But —’ he began.
‘Do not argue with me.’
‘I don’t —’
‘Go,’ she snapped. ‘Before I have one of the other officers take you home. You,’ she pointed at Murphy. ‘You came with him?’
Murphy rose to his feet and nodded warily.
‘Cornelius, give him your keys: he can drive you back. There shouldn’t be any civilians this side of the tape.’
Con straightened. ‘I’m fine, commander —’
‘We’ll talk about this later. Go.’
‘Commander, Gabriella was here tonight, with the vigil. She said she had something important to tell me, about the statue. Maybe you should speak with her.’
‘Gabriella Pakinga is not a part of this investigation anymore,’ said Agatha. ‘Anything she has to tell me can come through the appropriate channels.’
Con hesitated, glancing back towards Bree’s body, then turned towards the trail.
Suddenly Agatha caught his arm and spun him around to face her. With surprising strength she nudged his foot outward, putting him off balance. ‘Are you having bad flashbacks?’ she asked fiercely, directly into his face.
Con, keeping hold of her to regain his stance, nodded, then grew angry, both at himself and at her dirty trick – she had dislodged the truth by physically throwing him off balance, forcing him to lean on her.
He pulled himself away from her grip. ‘No,’ he said, too late.
‘Get a good night’s rest, Badenhorst,’ said the commander, the ferocity leaving her as fast as it had come. She sounded as tired as Con felt. ‘I’m sorry for not taking better care of you.’
Con walked off down the path, ignoring the questions of the civilians still watching, the media who swarmed towards him. Murphy walked alongside him, big loping steps, glowering at anyone who approached.
‘I’m fine,’ said Con.
‘I didn’t say anything,’ said Murphy.
‘What do you make of this?’
‘If Bree’s killed herself, that makes it more likely the other girls are safe too, right? It means Bree was never taken.’
‘She looks like she’s been dead for days. And her bag was still at the Fisherman’s Hut,’ said Con. ‘But what are the odds that Madison would organise a massive vigil that just happened to walk past the place where Bree was hanging?’
‘Madison knows where Jasmine is. I’m sure of it.’ There was almost a bounce in Murphy’s step. ‘How long until we know how long Bree’s been hanging there for?’
‘At least an hour to get her to the hospital for the autopsy,’ said Con. ‘If they do it tonight.’
‘Can we go ask Madison about it?’ said Murphy.
‘Tomorrow? Definitely.’
‘Can I come?’ said Murphy.
‘Probably not,’ said Con.
Murphy nodded, as though he’d expected that answer. Their footsteps crunched through the red soil and stone, Tasmanian devils in the bush around them, a masked owl watching from the branch of an ancient pencil pine.
And still, Con struggled to get his shaking under control.
It’s normal: you’re only human. It’s the shock of finding Bree. You tried hard to find her, to save her, and yet she killed herself. Sudden weariness. What’s even the point?
Murphy said, ‘I need to tell you something.’
‘What is it?’ said Con.
Murphy explained the USB drive Madison had given him via Carmen. He said he’d only had time to watch two of the videos Jasmine had made, and was very sparse on the details of what they contained.