“Enough to kill his father-in-law?” Ben said. “What exactly happened at the board meeting?”
“It was more after than during. The others were stuffing themselves with food while Jack, Dennis, and Campbell got into something at the far end of the boardroom table. I got a coffee for Jack, not that he noticed. He and Dennis were having words.”
“As in?”
“Well, I remember Campbell saying he’d do the paperwork and he left. Then Dennis was on about Jack’s decision affecting a lot of people, especially Dennis. Jack told him to shelve it and they’d speak privately on the yacht.”
“Do you know what they were discussing?”
Paul shrugged. “I stay out of the business. Was only in there because I do a security update each meeting. But Dennis was agitated. This was three hours before Jack disappeared.”
Ben glanced at the monitors lining one wall and Paul nodded. “Impressive, isn’t it. The control room is downstairs, but I keep an eye on things.”
“How long do you retain surveillance tapes?”
“Not tapes these days. But, a while.”
“Can you get me any from the boardroom meeting?”
“Should be able to. I’ll get someone onto it.”
“Have you checked to see when Jack left that day?”
“I’m an idiot. Should have been the first thing. Sorry, Detective, I’ll get you some footage.”
Once Ben left, Paul swivelled his chair so he could stare at the photograph on the wall.
6
Message From The Missing
Ellie dragged herself into the elevator of her apartment building. Emptiness and exhaustion battled for her attention and her shoulders slumped beneath the weight. She’d been out by car, going to Dad’s golf club, his Brighton box on the beach, a hotel he occasionally stayed at when he wanted some personal time. Nobody knew anything.
Then, she’d taken to the streets of Melbourne on foot, visiting every coffee shop, bookshop, and bar he liked. At one of the bookshops she’d seen a man at the back of the store in a designer suit with short cropped grey hair and her heart flipped, but then he turned. Not Dad. She’d hurried from the bookshop before she made a fool of herself by falling apart.
Now, as the elevator doors began to close, a man squeezed between them. Mid-twenties with curly blonde hair, he wore a singlet and track pants and carried a gym bag. She’d seen him once before, but there was also a familiarity about his face she couldn’t place. Probably had seen him more than once and not paid attention.
“Thought I’d missed it.” He grinned, positioning himself close to Ellie. Too close. “Need a shower something bad.”
She agreed but put on the smile she used for strangers. Polite and remote.
“Hey, I know you.”
Ellie looked at the ground. She wasn’t up to questions about Dad.
“You live a few doors up from me.”
“We’re on the same floor.” Ellie relaxed and offered a friendlier smile.
“You’ve noticed me.”
Did you just flex your muscles?
“Guess you would. I work hard for this body.”
Instead of laughing, she managed, “I’m married.” At least for now.
“Good for you. I’m not into older women. But nice to know you’ve checked me out.”
With a soft whoosh, the doors opened and gym man stepped out. Ellie counted to three then exited, hoping he’d kept walking. Older woman. Since when was thirty old? He unlocked a door to the left, grinning when she glanced at him.
Her corner apartment was the opposite direction and she let herself in, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead, she opened the only remaining alcohol—the French champagne and toasted herself.
To old women who are married but not married.
Shoes off, a mouthful of not-as-bad-as-she-expected bubbly warming her stomach, Ellie stood in the middle of the living room. If Dennis was gone, then this was all hers again. She’d owned the apartment for longer than she remembered and made the mistake of allowing him to add what he called ‘improvements’ with furnishings and art. Better than his preference of selling it and moving to the same suburb as her father, which Dennis considered a good idea.
The evening sky was red and gold and she longed to sit outside. How she loved Melbourne, the city she’d been born and raised in. From here she could see toward Dad’s house.
The champagne was suddenly tasteless and she put the glass on the table beside the phone.
The answering machine blinked.
She’d go out and get dinner and a bottle of real wine and come back and sleep. Take a pill and block it all out just for one night.
Her hand hovered over play. It would be a telesales call.
She touched the button.
“Honey. It’s Dad.”
7
A Clue
Ben almost bumped into a man rushing out of the elevator as he stepped in. They both apologised, then went their separate ways. The doors closed behind Ben, amplifying the stench of dried sweat he’d noticed coming off the other man. Normally people got sweaty after the gym, but the bag and clothes indicated he was on his way to one.
Ben stared at his reflection on the mirrored sides, straightened his tie and combed his too-long hair with his fingers. Get it cut. Shave the stubble.
Why do you care what she thinks?
Ellie’s floor. He turned right and headed to the corner apartment, where he tapped. “It’s Ben.”
“Not locked.”
He raised his eyebrows and let himself in. The sliding doors to a long, wrap-around balcony were wide open and Ellie was outside, leaning against the rail.
Ben glanced around. Glass windows on both sides with incredible views. A gas fireplace set in the middle of a lowered living area. White kitchen with nothing on the benches. Not like the colourful mix of fruit bowls, herbs hanging to dry, and assorted bowls she used to keep there. And the minimal furnishings and rather odd pieces of artwork were new. New to him.
“This is all mine again, it appears.” Ellie watched him from the sliding door. “If you know anyone who likes these sorts of furnishings, the whole lot will be going. Not my style.”
Reading my mind?
“You should keep the door locked.”
“The building is secure. Besides, I unlocked it when I buzzed you in.” She stepped inside. “Who is going to harm me?”
“Not really the point.”
She stopped near a sideboard. “Am I in danger?”
“I see no reason to believe you are a target, but don’t let your guard down.” His eyes roamed the apartment again. “Are you okay being alone?”
“Why?”
The question in her eyes was genuine. Behind the façade of coping with the chaos around her, and refusing to acknowledge their past, a tiny flicker of something ignited.
And disappeared. “Please don’t patronise me, Detective Rossi.”
“I’m not. You were concerned you might be in danger. Having someone else in the apartment might help you sleep better.”
“Someone with a badge?”
Before Ben could digest her comment, let alone answer, she turned away. “I asked you here to listen to something. To a message.”
Jack Bannerman’s voice was the last thing he’d expected.
“Honey, it’s Dad. Wish you weren’t on a plane, and I’m sure there’s all kind of talk now, but it’ll make sense once you read the letter. I promise. It is in our secret spot so don’t let Meredith know. Or…anyone. And I’m sorry to leave things like this.” A long sigh. “I love you so much, honey. Be strong for me.”
As the recording ended with a series of beeps, Ellie walked away. “Drink? Haven’t got much else except expensive champagne Dennis decided to binge buy whilst I was in London.”
“I need to hear it again. I missed the time of the call.”
“Take the machine. Listen all you want but it won’t change the facts.” Ellie poured two glasses of ch
ampagne and carried them to Ben. The rims of her eyes were red.
“We don’t know the facts, Ellie.” Ben accepted a glass.
“He’s sorry to leave like this. Wants me to be strong. What do you think he means? Ben, he was saying…goodbye.”
“No. He was telling you there’s a letter which explains something. Perhaps where he is.”
“But why would he do that?”
Ben had no answers, so sipped the drink, watching Ellie’s face. So expressive, the flash of hope followed by thoughtfulness, and then, a sudden understanding.
“I know what he meant. I need to go to the house.”
“Jack’s house? Why?”
“Dad and I have a few places we call ours. But only one, I think, where he could leave a letter. Are you coming with me?”
As if he’d refuse.
A solitary light was on in the library in Jack’s house, the one over his desk. Thick carpet and timber walls created a sense of quiet and old-fashioned comfort. Several rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled one side of the space. Two desks faced each other, whilst in a corner, tub chairs circled a low coffee table near a bar.
Dennis sat behind Jack’s desk, systematically going through each drawer. He’d already checked the safe which held its customary wad of cash, Jack’s passport, and a small photo album. This he’d flicked through, passing over photos of Ellie from birth to graduation, stopping on a casual one from their own wedding.
Ellie and Dennis were dancing. Near them, Jack and Meredith also danced but Jack’s attention was on another woman. Gabi, her face animated as she waltzed with Campbell. Dennis had only met Ellie’s mother once, at the wedding, then she was gone again to wherever it was she went.
Jack rarely mentioned her, but he kept a photo of her with Ellie on his desk at work. Despite him being the one to divorce Gabi. Perhaps he regretted it.
He closed the album and shoved it back under the passport, then locked the safe and straightened the painting in front of it.
There was nothing of interest in Jack’s desk, so he turned to Ellie’s. Behind some files in the bottom drawer was an old, black bottle of rum. Rum didn’t interest him, but the lid of this bottle did. It was loose. Something else was inside, hidden behind the dark glass. His fingers were too big to reach what looked like tightly curled paper. He closed the drawer.
Bottle in one hand, he turned off the light. Fingers on the door knob, Meredith’s raised voice, followed by Ellie’s calmer one, stopped him. High heels approaching on the timber floorboards sent him scurrying to the furthest corner of the room, squeezing into a corner near a bookcase.
“Keep it short. I need my sleep.”
The door opened.
“At barely eight?”
Ellie had a point.
“Anyway, what are you looking for? I’m not keeping Jack captive in here.”
“Meredith, we won’t be long, but for goodness sake, what does it matter? I’m getting something from my desk, not Dad’s.”
“Fine. Turn the lights off when you leave.” The door closed with a loud click.
Just hurry up.
“So, why are we here?”
Dennis almost dropped the bottle. What the hell was the detective doing in Jack’s library?
“When I was a child, Dad began hiding messages for me to find. Inside books usually, with a couple of clues to follow.”
Unable to help himself, Dennis crept from his hiding spot and found a vantage point where he could watch Ellie between a gap in a row of books. She stood at her desk, the detective to one side.
“What was the purpose?”
“Probably to distract me when Gabi left. I was only little and suddenly had no mother. The messages ranged from envelopes with gift cards to handwritten notes telling me how…proud he was of me.” Ellie shook her head. “Anyway, it evolved into our way of communicating to each other. Things we didn’t want anyone else to know.”
“Such as?”
“He lost a bundle on poker once. Didn’t want Meredith to find out because she hates gambling but had to share. Oh, and I told him I was taking the year off via a note. I knew he’d be upset and it was easier for me to do it that way.” She sat and opened the bottom drawer. “We use an empty rum bottle as the receptacle. Like pirate’s treasure. Which should be here.”
Which is in my hand.
And made it even more important he was the first one to read the note.
“But it isn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Perhaps he left it in his desk. But this is what he meant, I’m sure it is.”
Dennis retreated to his dark corner.
More opening of drawers and then a sigh. “It doesn’t make sense, Ben. It should be here.”
“Who else knows about this? Dennis? Meredith?”
“Nobody. It was our thing and meant nothing. But the bottle is gone.”
“Cleaner? Not that anyone should be in the desk drawers. Is there another hiding place?”
“I guess it might be in one of the books.”
Dennis was as far in as he could get. If they came around the first row of bookcases he was stuffed. What excuse could he come up with?
Is this what you are looking for? Pina Colada, anyone? Oh, it doesn’t have rum inside?
“Meredith wasn’t happy about you coming in here. Shall we ask her a couple of questions?”
For the first time, Ben Rossi sounded like a sensible man.
“You’d better ask. I’ll probably throttle her.”
“Would prefer not to arrest you.”
The long silence bothered Dennis. Bothered him a lot. He couldn’t see what was going on and that detective had better not be flirting with his wife.
No more words, just footsteps going away and then the opening and closing of the door and the lights being extinguished as they left.
He forced himself to wait for five minutes, then squeezed out of the space. If Jack had hidden something in it, then got a message to Ellie to look for it…what would it be? Code for another safe, a password to something? Or a clue to what happened to him?
Meredith denied all knowledge. Why would anyone go in there, amongst dusty old books and desks belonging to the eighteenth century? Jack and Ellie kept their little secrets and she didn’t care. She said all of this before telling them to leave and flouncing from the room.
Ben and Ellie’s eyes met and they almost burst into laughter.
“Shall we go?”
“Why? This is Dad’s house, not hers. I’d like to take a look around.”
“For?”
Ellie led the way from the living room to the back of the house. “Maybe someone found the bottle and thought it was full.” She flicked on a light and went inside. A billiards table took up one side, whilst a long bar ran along the other wall.
“This is a possible place.” Ellie rummaged around behind the bar. “Not that Meredith can tell the difference between quality liquor and some cheap stuff she’d drink.”
“You’re not her biggest fan.” Ben perched on a stool.
“I don’t dislike her. After all, Dad loves her, I imagine.” Ellie straightened with a frown. “Not here.”
“But?”
“But? Oh, Meredith. She doesn’t appreciate what she has. Or Dad.”
“And she should be grateful? For the lifestyle and money being his wife brings?”
Ellie stared at Ben. “I didn’t say that. And I’d like to go home now if that’s okay.”
The drive was silent until they reached the city.
“Drop me anywhere, Ben. No need to weave all the way in.”
“Sure.” Ben kept driving. “How long have Meredith and Jack been married?”
“Six years. I thought he’d never remarry so it was a surprise. But he seemed happy again.”
“He was alone a long time.”
“Gabi left when I was nine. So yes, a long time.” Ellie gazed out of the window.
“Do you see her? Your mother?”<
br />
“Now and then. She still has her little cabin in Gippsland but is off on adventures on her yacht most of the time. Sometimes she goes to spend a week near…well, Michael. But she hasn’t been to Melbourne since…since my wedding.”
“Which was how long ago?”
Ellie glanced at Ben as he drove through the evening traffic. “I married Dennis five years ago.”
His jaw clenched for a second or two then he stopped at a red light and looked at Ellie. “We should talk.”
She shook her head.
“Ellie—”
“This is close enough. Thanks for the lift.” Ellie wrenched open the door and was out and into the night before he could respond.
8
What We Hide
Dennis locked himself into the guest house where he’d made himself at home the day Jack disappeared.
Meredith had been hysterical when he’d explained Jack’s no-show and begged him to stay. Much as he liked the idea of moving straight in with her, that wasn’t his head talking. At least, not the decision-making one. The guest house was a compromise.
He left the bottle on the kitchen counter and searched for something to draw out the contents. In the bathroom cupboard was a pair of tweezers.
Was this really a message from Jack to Ellie? How many other secrets were hidden around the place? He was learning a whole lot about his wife tonight, including her interest in, or by, the detective.
The tightly wound paper was an envelope and addressed to Ellie in Jack’s handwriting on Jack’s personal stationery. It looked as though it had been crumpled into a ball and then straightened and rolled. Dennis flattened it out, then stalked away to find a drink. What made Ellie come looking tonight? Something must have made her believe whatever was in the bottle was important.
After a gulp of Jack’s blue gin, Dennis slid a single sheet of paper from the envelope.
As he scanned the note, the glass dropped from his fingers, smashing into shards on the floor.
Last Known Contact Page 3
