by Jane Harper
‘No.’ King glanced over as a group of searchers emerged from the trailhead, their faces showing no good news. ‘But he was a small-time crook with ideas above his station. Dabbled in drug dealing, hung around the fringes of the bikie gangs. It was only a matter of time before he followed his old man into prison for something or other, or ended up pissing off the wrong person and paying for it. We’ve got some people in Melbourne trying to firm it up.’ He gave a grim smile. ‘Would’ve been better if it had been done at the time. But no-one’s too upset when a bloke like Sam Kovac goes AWOL. Only person who gave much of a shit was his dad.’
‘What makes you think he has anything to do with Alice Russell?’ Falk said.
‘Look, I don’t. Not really. But there was always this theory that Martin Kovac had a base somewhere in the bushland. Some place where he could lie low. At the time, they thought it was probably near to where the victims were taken, but if it existed, it was never found.’ He frowned. ‘From the descriptions the women gave, there’s a remote chance this cabin they found could be connected to him.’
Falk and Carmen looked at each other.
‘How did the women respond to that?’ Carmen said.
‘We haven’t told them. Decided there was no point worrying them until we were sure there was something to worry about.’
‘And you’ve no idea where this cabin is?’
‘They think they were in the north somewhere, but “north” is a bloody huge area in here. There are hundreds of hectares we don’t know well.’
‘Can you narrow it down from Alice’s phone signal?’ Falk asked, but King shook his head.
‘If they’d been on high ground, then maybe. But it sounds like that wasn’t the case. There are pockets where you get lucky but there’s no real rhyme or reason. Sometimes they’re only a few metres square, or the signal will come and go.’
From the trail, a searcher called King’s name and the officer waved an acknowledgement.
‘Sorry, I’d better get on. We’ll talk again later.’
‘Are the rest of the BaileyTennants group still up here? We might need to speak to them,’ Carmen said as they followed him back across the road.
‘I’ve asked the women to stick around for now. All the men have gone back except for Daniel Bailey. You can tell them you’re assisting me, if it helps. As long as you share, of course.’
‘Yeah. Understood.’
‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to Ian Chase.’ King raised a hand and a young man in a red fleece extracted himself from a group of searchers and headed over. ‘He runs the Executive Adventures program out here.’ He almost smiled. ‘Let him tell you in person how bloody foolproof this is all supposed to be.’
‘It’s really easy if you follow the routes properly,’ Ian Chase was saying. He was a wiry, dark-haired bloke with eyes that kept flicking to the bushland as though he expected Alice Russell to emerge at any time.
They had driven back to the lodge, Falk and Carmen following Chase’s minibus along the isolated rural route. Now, Chase leaned one hand on a wooden sign marking a trailhead. Carved letters worn smooth by the seasons read: Mirror Falls. At their feet, a dirt track meandered into the bush before disappearing from sight.
‘This is where the women’s group started,’ Chase said. ‘The Mirror Falls trail isn’t even our hardest route. We might have fifteen groups a year go along here and we haven’t had any problems.’
‘Ever?’ Falk said, and Chase shifted his weight.
‘Once in a while, maybe. You get groups that are late sometimes. But usually they’re slow rather than lost. If you follow the route backwards, you find them dragging their heels near the final campsite. Sick of carrying their bags.’
‘Not this time, though,’ Carmen said.
‘No.’ Chase shook his head. ‘Not this time. We leave food and water in lock boxes at the second and third nights’ campsites so the groups don’t have to carry everything the whole way. When the girls didn’t come out at the end, a couple of the rangers went in. They know the short cuts, you know? Checked the lock box at the third site. No sign they’d ever been there. Same at the second. That’s when we called in the state officers.’
He pulled a map from his pocket and pointed to a thick red line curving in a gentle northward arc before finishing in the west.
‘This is the route they were following. They probably went wrong somewhere around here.’ He stabbed the paper between crosses marking the first and second campsites. ‘We’re pretty sure they took the kangaroo track. The problem is where they ended up after that, when they tried to double back.’
Falk examined the route. It looked easy enough on paper, but he knew how the bushland could distort things.
‘Where did the men’s group walk?’
‘They started from a point about ten minutes’ drive from here.’ Chase pointed to another line, marked in black this time. It stayed almost parallel to the women’s trail for the first day, then curved south before finishing at the same spot in the west. ‘The blokes were about an hour late setting off but still had plenty of time to get to their first site. Enough time to make it over to the girls’ camp for a couple of drinks, apparently.’
Carmen raised her eyebrows. ‘Is that usual?’
‘It’s not encouraged, but it happens. It’s not a difficult walk between the two but you always take a risk going off track. When it goes wrong, it can really go wrong.’
‘Why were the men late?’ Falk said. ‘I thought you all drove up together?’
‘Except Daniel Bailey,’ Chase said. ‘He missed the bus.’
‘Oh, yeah? He say why?’
Chase shook his head. ‘Not to me. He apologised to the other fellas. Said he got held up with business.’
‘Right.’ Falk looked again at the map. ‘Do they all get given this on the day, or –?’
Chase shook his head. ‘We send them out a couple of weeks beforehand. But they only get the one per team and are told not to copy it. We can’t stop them, of course, but it’s part of the process. Makes them appreciate scarcity out here, that things can’t always be replaced. Same with not taking the phones. We like them to rely on themselves rather than technology. Plus the phones don’t work well anyway.’
‘And how did the group seem when they set off?’ Falk said. ‘In your opinion?’
‘They were fine,’ Chase answered straight away. ‘A bit nervous maybe, but nothing out of the ordinary. I wouldn’t have sent them off if I’d had any concerns. But they were happy enough. Look, you can see for yourself.’
He fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen before holding it out so Falk could see. It was a photo.
‘I took that before they set off.’
The five women were smiling, their arms around each other. Jill Bailey stood in the centre of the group. Her right arm was around Alice’s waist, who in turn had her arm around a woman Falk recognised as Lauren Shaw. On Jill’s other side were two younger women who looked a little, but definitely not a lot, alike.
Falk stared at Alice, her blonde head cocked a little to the side. She was wearing a red jacket and black pants, and her arm rested lightly across Jill’s shoulders. And Ian Chase was right. In that snapped single moment, they did all look happy enough.
Falk handed the phone back to him.
‘We’re getting copies printed for the searchers,’ Chase said. ‘Come on. I’ll show you the start of the trail.’ He looked Falk and Carmen up and down, taking in their little-used boots. His gaze lingered briefly on Falk’s burned hand. ‘It’s a bit of a walk to the falls, but you should be right.’
They plunged into the trees and almost immediately Falk’s hand started to prickle with pins and needles. He ignored it, focusing instead on his surroundings. The path was well defined and Falk could see scuffs and indents, old footprints possibly, that had been blurred by rainfall. Above, tall eucalyptus trees swayed. They were walking in constant shadow and Falk saw Carmen shiver under her jacket.
He thought about Alice Russell. He wondered what had been going through her mind as she’d entered the bushland, walking towards something that would stop her from leaving.
‘How does the Executive Adventures program work?’ Falk’s voice sounded unnaturally loud against the rustle of the bushland.
‘We organise tailor-made activities for staff training and teambuilding,’ Chase said. ‘Most of our clients are based in Melbourne, but we offer activities all over the state. Ropes courses, one-day retreats, you name it.’
‘So you run the program here on your own?’
‘Mostly. There’s another guy running a survival course a couple of hours away. We each cover when the other’s on leave, but most of the time it’s just me.’
‘And you live up here?’ Falk said. ‘Do you have accommodation in the park?’
‘No. I’ve got a little place in town. Near the service station.’
Falk, who had spent his formative years firmly in the back end of nowhere, thought even he would be hard-pressed to describe the handful of shops they’d passed as a town.
‘It sounds a bit lonely,’ he said, and Chase shrugged.
‘It’s not too bad.’ He was navigating the uneven path with the ease of someone who had walked it many times before. ‘I like being outdoors and the rangers are okay. I used to come camping up here when I was younger so I know the terrain. I’ve never wanted an office job. I signed up with Executive Adventures three years ago, been up here for the past two. It’s the first time this kind of thing has happened on my watch, though.’
In the distance, Falk could make out the distinct sound of rushing water. They had been walking slowly but surely uphill since they had set off.
‘How long do you reckon they have to find Alice?’ Falk asked. ‘Best case scenario.’
The corners of Chase’s mouth turned down. ‘It’s hard to say. I mean, we’re not talking winter conditions to rival Alaska, but it gets bloody cold up here. Especially at night, and especially with no shelter. Stuck outside, a bit of wind, bit of rain, it can be game over quite soon.’ He sighed. ‘But you know, if she’s smart, stays as warm and dry as she can, keeps hydrated, then you never know. People can be tougher than you think.’
Chase had to raise his voice as they rounded a bend and came face to face with a curtain of white water. A river tumbled over a cliff edge and into the pool far beneath them. The falls roared as they walked out onto the bridge.
‘Mirror Falls,’ Chase said.
‘This is amazing.’ Carmen leaned against the railing, her hair whipping across her face. The fine spray seemed almost suspended in the crisp air. ‘How high is it?’
‘She’s only a baby, about fifteen metres tall,’ Chase said. ‘But the pool at the bottom is at least as deep again and the water pressure is crazy so you wouldn’t want to go over. The drop itself isn’t too bad, it’s more the shock and the cold that’ll kill you. But you’re lucky, this is the best time of year to see her, she’s not as impressive in the summer. This year we were down to a trickle. Had the drought, you know?’
Falk clenched his hand with its slick new skin inside his pocket. Yes. He knew.
‘But it’s been good since the weather broke,’ Chase went on. ‘Great winter rainfall, so you can see why it gets the name.’
Falk could. At the foot of the crashing falls, most of the churning water was swept along by the river. But a deviation in the landscape had created a natural dip off to the side, an overflow into a pool that lay large and calm. It rippled gently, as its surface reflected the magnificent surroundings. An identical image, a few shades darker. Falk stood entranced, gazing down at the thundering white noise. Chase’s radio beeped on his belt, breaking the spell.
‘I’d better be getting back,’ he said. ‘If you’re ready.’
‘No worries.’
As Falk turned to follow Chase, his eye caught a splash of colour in the distance. On the far side of the falls, where the trail disappeared into deep bush, a tiny lone figure stared out over the water. A woman, Falk thought, her purple hat contrasting with the greens and browns of the surroundings.
‘There’s someone there,’ Falk said to Carmen.
‘Oh, yeah.’ She looked to where he was pointing. ‘Do you recognise her?’
‘Not from this distance.’
‘Me neither. Not Alice, though.’
‘No.’ The build was too thin, the hair poking out beneath the hat too dark. ‘Unfortunately.’
The woman couldn’t possibly have heard over the distance and the roar of the falls, but she turned her head sharply in their direction. Falk raised a hand, but the tiny figure didn’t move. As they followed Chase to the trail, he glanced back once or twice. The woman continued to watch until the trees closed in behind them, and Falk could see her no more.
Day 2: Friday Morning
Beth unzipped the tent door from the inside, wincing as the noise vibrated across the canvas. She looked back. Her sister was still sleeping soundly, curled on her side, her eyelashes long against her cheeks and her hair casting a dark halo around her head.
She had always slept like that as a child. They both had, almost nose to nose, their hair entwined on the pillow, and their breath shared. Beth used to open her eyes each morning and see an image of herself looking back. That hadn’t happened for a long time. And Beth didn’t sleep curled up anymore. Beth’s sleep these days was broken and uneasy.
She crawled out into the cold air and zipped the tent shut behind her, cringing as she slipped her boots on. They had got damp yesterday and stayed damp today. The sky was as grey and heavy as the day before. There was no movement from the other tents. She was alone.
She had an urge to wake her sister, so they could be alone together for the first time in . . . Beth wasn’t sure how long. She wouldn’t though. She’d seen Bree’s look of disappointment when Alice had tossed the sisters’ backpacks together in front of the same tent. Bree would rather share with her boss than her own sister.
Beth lit a cigarette, savouring the first drag and stretching her sore muscles. She wandered to the fire pit, where last night’s embers lay black and cold. Discarded boil-in-the-bag wrappers had been stacked under a stone, their contents oozing gently. Old stew was smeared and crusted on the ground – an animal must have found it in the night – but there was still a lot left over. What a waste, Beth thought as her stomach rumbled. She had quite enjoyed hers.
A kookaburra perched nearby, watching her with its black eyes. She picked up a strip of beef from one of the abandoned packets and tossed it towards the bird, who scooped it up with the tip of her beak. Beth smoked as the bird jerked her head, whipping the meat back and forth. Satisfied at last that it was dead, the kookaburra swallowed it in one gulp and flew away, leaving Beth alone once more. She bent to stub out her cigarette and her boot caught a half-empty wine bottle. It toppled over, spilling its contents like a bloodstain on the ground.
‘Shit.’
She felt the hot prickle of annoyance. Alice was a cheeky bitch. Beth had kept her mouth shut while Alice barked orders about the tents, but when she’d told her to fetch the booze, Beth had stared at her in confusion. Amused, Alice had opened Beth’s bag herself and, rummaging around at the bottom, pulled out three bottles of wine. Beth had never seen them before.
‘They’re not mine.’
Alice had laughed. ‘I know. They’re for everyone.’
‘So why were they in my bag?’
‘Because they’re for everyone.’ She spoke slowly, as if to a child. ‘We all have to help carry the supplies.’
‘I’m already carrying my share. Those weigh a tonne. And . . .’ She’d stopped.
‘And what?’
‘I’m not supposed to –’
‘Supposed to what? Help?’
‘No.’ Beth had glanced at her sister but Bree was glaring back, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. Stop kicking up a bloody fuss. Beth sighed. ‘I’m not supposed to be in possession of alcohol.’
>
‘Well.’ Alice tapped the bottles. ‘Now you’re not. Problem solved.’
‘Does Jill know?’
Alice had stopped at that. The smile was still on her face, but the amusement was gone.
‘What?’
‘Does Jill know you put those in my bag?’
‘It’s a couple of bottles, Beth. Lodge a complaint if you feel that grievously injured.’ Alice had waited, the silence stretching on until Beth had shaken her head. She’d seen Alice roll her eyes as she turned away.
Later, when Lauren had held out a bottle by the campfire, Beth had been more tempted than she’d been in a long time. The bush seemed like the kind of place that kept secrets well. And Bree seemed too distracted to police her. The scent of the wine had been as warm and familiar as an embrace, and Beth had made herself say no before she accidentally said yes.
She wished Daniel Bailey hadn’t brought the men over. That they hadn’t brought the extra booze. She found it harder to resist in a group setting. It felt too much like a party, albeit a crap one.
It was the first time Beth had seen the chief executive in person. He didn’t slum it down in the bowels of the data archives, and she had certainly never been invited up to the twelfth floor. But from the way people spoke about him, she’d somehow expected more. Around the campfire he’d just been one more bloke with a hundred-dollar haircut and a smile he’d obviously once been told was charming. Maybe he was different in the office.
Beth had been watching Daniel and considering this when she’d seen him take Alice aside and disappear with her into the dark. Was there something between them? Beth wondered. Something about his manner made her think not, but what did she know? It had been years since anyone had wanted to disappear into the dark with her.
She’d caught a snatch of their conversation as she’d wandered around the site, looking for someone to talk to. No. She’d been right the first time. Definitely not a prelude to pillow talk.
‘The boss is a bit full of himself, isn’t he?’ Beth had whispered to her sister later, when they were zipped into their sleeping bags.
