“You’re not crying over this cheating piece of shit, are you?” Elf Man asked, showing her a video of Oliver sat behind a table in a nightclub.
Spotting blonde hair going up and down, and noting Oliver’s happy face, her life dropped away from her in a single moment. Not for one minute did she think of him as the unfaithful type. “Fuck you!” she hissed, unable to stop watching some bimbo pleasure her man.
When she flew into a fit of rage, contorting and twisting in her chair, Elf Man tutted and walked away with the bat and knife. Possessed by anger, she struggled so much the plastic ties drew blood around her wrists and ankles.
The sight of the psycho carrying a funnel in one hand and a bottle of bleach in the other made her stop fighting.
Instead she begged and pleaded with him to let her go, that she would behave.
She would give him whatever he wanted; she would fuck him.
Nothing worked.
Elf Man grabbed her chin and stuffed the funnel in her mouth.
Isla cried, desperate for him to stop, watching him raise and turn the bottle.
She screamed through the nozzle until bleach trickled down her throat.
Coughing, trying not to swallow the corrosive liquid, the cleaning fluid continued to run down her throat, until her stomach burned, and the pain led up her chest and into her mouth. Her saliva turned dark red.
After Elf Man whipped the funnel out, he stood back and watched her.
Isla screamed until blood gargled. Stuck in her chair, she writhed in agony.
“Enough.” Elf Man picked up his bat.
She wanted to die.
The pain too much, she longed for death when her killer swung the baton at her head.
37
“Shane, it’s ready!” Georgina shouted, using tongs to take the snags off the barbecue. With a separate set of tongs, she turned over her veggie burger.
Sunday evening and she’d arrived home an hour earlier. Salty and sandy after her day on the beach, she didn’t mind; she would be taking a shower after dinner. Picking up her stubby, she took a swig. “Shane, did you hear me? Yours is ready.”
“All right, keep your knickers on, I’m here.” He stepped out in a pair of shorts and vest. She liked him in vests; she loved his arms and legs, the muscle definition that other guys lacked.
Settling down at the garden table, Georgina helped herself to some salad he’d prepared for them, knowing she wouldn’t be home on time. Always late, especially when she went surfing with Mingzhu, she rang ahead to let him know. In fairness, he didn’t need to be psychic. It happened every time without fail. She wedged her veggie burger inside a bun and took her first bite. Delicious.
She and Mingzhu had spent the afternoon keeping an eye out for Elf Man, which wasn’t surprising after their last outing when Georgina’s Jeep was stolen and promptly returned. Elf Man being out there gave her the jitters, but she’d not heard from him all weekend. Why he decided not to take the money had baffled her and Shane.
He worried her with how quiet he was being. They weren’t the kind of couple who didn’t talk, yet this past week or so he’d gone silent, and every time she brought up his behaviour, he told her not to worry. Not being stupid, or shallow, she knew when something was wrong. And even now, watching him eat his hotdogs, he did so in silence. No, “how was your day?” Nothing like that. “I had a good set today,” she said, trying to make conversation.
“Hmm? Oh, good.”
“I met a great guy,” she said with a grin. “He bought me drinks, we went back to his house for amazing sex.” Tutting, she waved her hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Shane. Wake up, babe.” When he focused, she said, “Jesus, what’s the matter with you? This is getting beyond a joke now, baby. Talk to me, please?”
“What? Nothing’s wrong, all right? Having a go at me isn’t going to make me talk more.”
Speechless, she pushed her plate away and stood, her shower calling her. “Fine! You stay down here by yourself!” And as she strutted inside, he called after her, apologetic. He could do one for all she cared, she told herself, climbing the stairs.
In the bathroom, she stripped off and stepped under the warm water. The sand and salt washed away, leaving her skin supple and refreshed. While washing off the gel, the door creaked open. She turned to find a sorry Shane holding a couple of her flowers out of the garden. Beckoning him in with her finger, he dropped his shorts and joined her.
After the longest shower of her life, and the most passionate kissing in a while, she stepped out and dried them both with the same large towel. In the bedroom he made love to her more slowly than he had in a long time.
Shane pried himself away from her long enough to brew them a cup of tea each.
While lying there, she thought about Isla.
When they’d left their friends’ house on Friday, Isla was in the tub. Smiling, Georgina thought about asking her what happened.
And when she thought back, she had not spoken to Isla since that night.
Scrolling through her messages, she noted the dates. Every day she received communication of some sort from Isla. It had been almost two days. Lying beneath the sheets, with Shane making noise downstairs, she typed, “Long time no speak. How you doing after Friday? xxXxx” They had a specific format for their kisses.
“Here,” he said, placing her mug of tea on her bedside cabinet.
He climbed in beside her and spooned. “Mmm, this is more like it,” she said, his arms wrapped around her. She groaned when her phone bleeped. “Sorry! Isla,” she said unwrapping him and picking up her mobile.
“Bit busy now, George. Had to leave. Scared. You should do the same X”
Not believing her eyes, she sat up and reread the text. Everything was wrong with the message, from the writing itself, to the format of the kisses. Isla sent one capital X. She never sent only one kiss, ever. Isla’s kisses were identical with every text: xxXxx. There were always five, and the middle kiss always, always a capital.
“What is it?” Shane asked, sitting up.
She handed him her mobile. “I think something’s happened to Amelia and Isla,” she started, noticing his expression change from concern to “not this again”. “Hear me out, please. You think Amelia and Kereama are up north somewhere, that they ran off to get away from all this, but Isla’s different, she’s a fighter; she and Oli wouldn’t run away, would they?”
Shane conceded that they were both fighters.
“And now we’re supposed to believe that they packed up their ute and skipped town?” He was coming around to her way of thinking. “Look at how she’s written it. Isla can’t spell. She doesn’t type out words like this. And neither does Amelia.” He nodded. When he reached for her mobile, she handed it to him. “And what about Isla’s kisses? She doesn’t give one big kiss, ever. She gives two small kisses, then a big one, followed by two small. I swear, whoever wrote that message, it’s not Isla.”
“All right, you may have a point, but what do you want me to do? We can call the police again, but they won’t be much help. They weren’t last time, and we had evidence of him being inside our house. With this, we’ll be giving them what? Our friends telling us they’ve gone away for a few days. They won’t take it seriously, baby. What do you think we should do?”
“Let’s go over there. Amelia’s is all locked up. Please, Shane, I want to go and check for myself.”
“What, now?” He handed back her phone.
“Absolutely,” she said, pleading with him.
When he took his time, she said, “I’m going over there, with or without you. So, either come, or don’t, I don’t care. This is important.” She whipped off the covers and started to dress, pulling her knickers on and a T-shirt over her head. She felt his arms around her waist and his lips on her neck.
“You win. Let’s go!”
Having thrown on some clothes, Shane met her in the kitchen, where she picked up her keys from the counter. “Ready?” she asked. Aft
er picking up an apple, he followed her downstairs and out onto the driveway. In her Jeep, she turned on the engine and opened the gates with the remote control.
Pulling up outside Isla and Oliver’s house, Georgina noted it was all locked up and the drive deserted. None of their cars were there. “The ute’s gone.” With apprehension, she stepped out of her Jeep and walked up to the front door with Shane by her side.
When no one answered, she peered through their window. Dark out, the street lamps were her only light. It was no use, she couldn’t see anything through the glass. One thing she did notice: “When Isla goes away, she puts the lights and curtains on a timer.”
“Yeah? Maybe she forgot this time?” Shane shrugged.
“Why are you so determined to not believe me?” Georgina turned to him. Her boyfriend took a step back and gave her a “who, me?” glance. And then she remembered meeting one of Isla’s neighbours before. She walked back down the drive.
“Where are you going now?”
Georgina walked along the pavement and up the neighbour’s front path. She knocked. “If Kylie doesn’t know anything about Isla going away, then she hasn’t gone anywhere.” She prayed Kylie had a key.
“Have you met these people before? You can’t go knocking–”
“Oh, hi George,” Isla’s friend and neighbour said, opening the door and leaning against it. “Been a long time.” Her smile faded. “Are you all right? Is something wrong?” She put her hand on Georgina’s shoulder.
When Kylie shook her head to Georgina’s question, Georgina glanced at her boyfriend. “She wouldn’t leave her house in the dark, Shane,” was all she needed to say as Shane pulled her back down the path, thanking Kylie for her time.
“You’ve convinced me,” Shane said, his voice quiet and deliberate. “I’ll phone Sergeant Kennedy first thing in the morning.”
38
“You’ll be here in an hour? Thank you so much, sergeant.” Shane hung up his mobile and stared at the ceiling. Georgina showered next door. Half past eight on a Wednesday morning and ordinarily he would be on his way to the cricket ground. Instead, he had an interview planned; he would be answering police questions. “Damn!” He sat on the edge of the bed.
Sleep. Even before the Elf Man troubles sleep had eluded him, the thought of losing another season high on his list of worries. What if he failed to win the Swans any trophies? He would go down in history as the biggest sporting failure of all time. Every Swans captain had won at least one trophy.
Pulling on his boxers, he got down on his toes and hands. A hundred push-ups and fifty sit-ups were his staple. The best way to start his day. Some people preferred a shower and a fruit juice; some liked a cigarette and a hot cup of coffee; he made himself perform push-ups and sit-ups before he did anything else.
He was such a coward, he told himself, as sweat dripped onto the carpet. If he were any kind of man, he would have sat her down and spelled it out to her: I’m a cheat, and Elf Man’s using photos to blackmail me.
Breathless, he paused before commencing his sit-ups. Why had the pom gone quiet over the weekend? Shane didn’t like the silence. At least when Elf Man contacted him, he knew roughly what he intended. Not knowing when he would strike was worse.
Feeling his stomach muscles tense, he pulled himself up, and back down again. What did Elf Man want? Why wait? What was his endgame? He had gone after Kereama, Oliver, Isla, and Georgina so far. So, what did he want? If Shane could figure that out, he would be halfway to resolving the conflict.
She walked in drying herself with a towel. “When are they coming?”
“Soon. Within the hour. Please don’t get your hopes up. If they didn’t take the video seriously, what do you think they’ll do about this? You’re giving them proof Amelia and Isla are still answering their messages.” He wouldn’t tell Georgina, but he believed her. Something had happened to his friends. Isla and Oliver prided themselves on being tough. They wouldn’t run and hide from some pommie psychopath; they’d stay and fight.
A long, warm shower later, he dressed himself and met Georgina in the garden, where she sat eating her breakfast. While he cried off work for the day, she postponed a photoshoot for Ripped Energy Drink. After the interview, he was taking her shopping, to try to take her mind off Elf Man.
Conversation sparse between them, Shane ate his bowl of cereal wanting to talk to her. Hell, he wanted to apologise, to beg for forgiveness. He didn’t want to lose her, and if she found out he so much as kissed another woman, she would leave him.
“I’ll let them in,” Georgina said, hearing the doorbell.
Two minutes later, Senior Sergeant Scott Kennedy and Incremental Sergeant Janae Willis stepped out into the garden. Shane invited them to join him at the table. “You had any luck with Chatter?” He noted the police officers’ nonchalant expressions.
“Our cyber unit are trying to contact Chatter’s CEO,” Kennedy replied. “As I’m sure you’ll appreciate, dealing with corporate companies like this is problematic. But we’ve been looking into Elf Man’s life back in the UK.”
“And?” Georgina leaned forwards, listening.
“Our sources over there tell us he’s popped up recently,” Willis said.
Confused, Shane scratched his head. “And? What does that mean?”
“He has no history. They say there’s a home and work address for him for the last eighteen months, but nothing prior to that.”
“I don’t understand, how can someone have no history?” Georgina looked to Shane and the officers for answers. “Everyone has a past. Don’t they?”
“We’ve asked the UK police to look into him for us,” Kennedy said, his voice reassuring. “In the meantime, we’re following up on Mr Tua’s assailant. This is him, isn’t it? This is Elf Man here.” The officer gave Shane the picture.
“This is him?” He couldn’t see his face. “What a shit photo. The cap’s covering his face. But if you say this is him, we think he stabbed Kerry.” He handed the picture to Georgina. “Didn’t the station have more cameras?”
“This was the best we could get,” Willis explained. “He knew how to disguise himself. He uses the cap to his advantage. We know how frustrating this must be for you, Mr Daley. Please be patient with us. We’ll catch this guy.”
“And in the meantime, we’re being terrorised,” Shane said. “What about putting a patrol outside our house? Where are we with that?” He didn’t like the shared glance.
“Our super won’t go for that, I’m afraid. He says we can’t waste man hours.” Kennedy gave him an apologetic look. “The best we can do is give you an alarm to keep in your home. The line goes through to our HQ in Parramatta, but the first responders will be local to you. They can be here inside two minutes.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Shane said. “Set us up with one of those bad boys.” An alarm would work. Having police parked outside the house would have given the neighbours something to talk about.
“I’ll request one now,” Willis said, taking her phone out of her shorts pocket. “It’ll take a couple of days.”
“You’re kidding me! How long?”
“We need to arrange installation. This is linked directly to your phone line. It’s not something I can hand to you that you keep on you. Think of it as your wired Bat Phone.” She continued typing on her mobile.
Still better than a patrol car outside the house, he thought.
Georgina squeezed his knee. “Tell them.” She caught Kennedy’s attention. “Say, have you seen Kereama lately?”
“Mr Tua? No, not since giving him an update, why?”
“He’s missing,” Georgina blurted. “They’re all missing. Kerry, Amelia, Oliver and Isla; they’re all gone. Please help us find them.”
“Just hear us out,” Shane added, knowing how dramatic his girlfriend sounded. “We went over to Isla and Oliver’s last night. Their house is all locked up, left dark. George says Isla always puts the lights and curtains on timer, which they
weren’t.” He noticed their expressions as he told them about Isla’s neighbour not seeing her.
He also informed them of the text messages from both Amelia and Isla, and how their very makeup had changed. Georgina showed them the texts in question. There was no way they were going for their story.
“Honestly, Mr Daley, there’s not a lot we can do for you on this. By your own admission they’re replying to you. If we can’t file a missing persons form, we can’t launch an investigation. I’m sorry!”
“But what about the text messages?” Georgina said to Willis. “You must have mates you know almost as well as yourself, right? There must be little details you know about them. With Amelia and Isla, I know their texts. Please, won’t you look into it for us?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Shaw, but the sarge is right. If we can’t file a report, we can’t create a case number. Without that, we can’t start an investigation.”
Shane didn’t argue; he left Georgina at the table, thanked the police officers for their time and walked them out to their car. Upstairs in the kitchen, he stood by the sink and observed Georgina below. She wanted a better answer and he didn’t blame her. Useless! They were useless.
39
The Westfield Shopping Centre on Market Street wasn’t especially busy. Visitors were sparse, which Georgina preferred when in stores looking for clothes, not that she needed more. Her wardrobes were chokka already. Picking up a pair of trainers, she checked the Nike store for Elf Man. Wherever she went, she felt his eyes on her.
No use. Even shopping couldn’t take her mind off her friends being missing. Despite the police’s refusal to investigate, she knew something had happened to them. Those texts were not from Amelia or Isla. Putting the trainer back on the wall display, Georgina moved further down and spied a pair of white trainers with a touch of pink.
“Um, hi! I’m so sorry to disturb you while you’re shopping, but can I ask you for your autograph, please? My daughter’s such a huge fan of yours,” a woman in her fifties asked. “When I saw you in here, I just had to come in.”
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