Last Known Contact

by Phillipa Nefri Clark

  An elderly woman shuffled in and lowered herself onto the next seat. The woman had tears in her eyes.

  Ellie offered a small smile. “Are you okay?”

  “It doesn’t get any easier.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The woman fumbled inside her handbag, finally drawing out a handful of cards the size of a bookmark. She handed one to Ellie.

  On one side was the image of a boy, a teenager. Tousled brown hair and hazel eyes above a cheeky grin. Underneath were the words Have you seen Adam?

  Ellie turned the card over. Adam Blackwell. His age, height, last known sighting, contact details.

  “I’m so sorry.” Ellie held it out.

  “Please keep it. In case. My grandson, you know. Disappeared seven months and three days ago and it is almost his birthday.” A tear ran down the woman’s cheek. “Had an argument with his granddad and took off. We raised him and we just want him…home.” Her voice trailed away.

  Dad missing was bad enough but how to bear not knowing where a teen was? She glanced at his age again. Not even sixteen.

  “Oh, Detective Rossi!” Adam’s grandmother pushed herself upright and hurried to Ben, who was halfway down the hallway. They spoke for a few moments and the woman hugged Ben, who shot Ellie a faint grin over her head.

  When the woman shuffled past Ellie to leave, she smiled, the tears gone and something like hope in her eyes.

  “How do I help?” Ellie showed the card to Ben. “He’s a baby, all alone somewhere.”

  “Don’t you have enough to worry about? Come on, let’s go this way.”

  She caught up with him. “Do you think he’s staying with friends? Or is he really lost? He’s so young.”

  “If you mean Adam, then I can’t comment. But he isn’t forgotten about, okay?”

  His firm tone irked Ellie, but now they were winding through an open plan space filled with police officers so she didn’t reply. She had an idea of something she could do to help find Adam.

  Ben opened a door and gestured for Ellie to go ahead. This room reminded her of Paul’s office with its wall to wall monitors. There were a couple of desks, two whiteboards, and a young, intense woman with red plaits working at speed on a laptop. She glanced up as they entered.

  “Ellie, meet Meg. Meg, Ellie.”

  They said hello at the same time.

  “Take a seat. Meg is a forensic analyst. Nobody puts data together better.”

  “I’m not giving you the formula, no matter how nice you are.”

  “Meg has a special coffee blend that only she knows. Thinks any compliment is an underhand way to steal it.”

  “Can’t be too careful. Mrs Connor, I’ve examined the footage provided by your head of security.”

  “Ellie, please. May I see it?”

  Ben nodded at the largest monitor. “We’ll run through them in the order Paul Dekeles provided, then have a closer look at each area if you’re okay with it?”

  “Of course.” Ellie turned her eyes to the screen and the boardroom footage began. Her heart jumped and she curled her hands into fists on her lap.

  Dad was in his usual spot at the long table, with Campbell and Dennis on either side. Paul placed a cup next to Dad, who barely noticed. There was a conversation between the three other men and Paul retreated to stand near the window. Dennis leaned forward, talking, then abruptly stood, and left.

  The camera changed to Dennis leaving the boardroom, already on the phone.

  And then to Dad in his office.

  What about the rest of the boardroom footage?

  He packed his laptop into his briefcase, tidied his desk, and then picked up an envelope. Ellie leaned forward, frowning. The envelope was small, and she recognized it as one of his personal ones.

  Dad stopped at Joni’s desk for a moment before going to the lift, the envelope still in his hand.

  Inside the lift, he pressed the basement button then stared at the doors the whole way down. When they opened, it was at the basement where his car was parked. He got out. The screen went blank.

  “You alright?” Ben asked.

  “There’s so much missing. Why isn’t there footage after Dennis left the boardroom? I mean, Dad had a coffee sitting there, Campbell and he were talking, and Paul was hanging around. So, what happened?”

  There was no reply, so Ellie turned to Ben. His expression unsettled her. She saw the detective in him, the need to find out what she knew or thought. But there was more. A sadness. Ellie wanted to cry out, “Don’t pity me! Help me find him!” but her manners and self-control kicked in and she gulped down the responding emotions.

  Meg took her hands off her keyboard. “What we’re seeing is edited. Not by us. I would like to get hold of an hour either side of each clip. And the quality is surprisingly bad. Quite old style.”

  “Then we’ll get it for you. Or do you want to come to Bannerman House? I’ll arrange full access.”

  Ben and Meg exchanged a glance.

  “What?”

  “Your husband has already said we need a warrant to get more.” Ben shrugged.

  “He what? That’s insane. He wants this resolved as much as I do.”

  “Isn’t he CEO now?”

  “Acting CEO.” Something bothered her. “Can you replay the part where Dad is in the lift going down to the carpark?”

  Meg tapped a few keys and the footage resumed.

  “This isn’t right. There must be more.” Ellie stood and went to the screen. “It isn’t there.”

  “What isn’t?”

  Ellie turned to Ben. “The envelope, detective. Where is the envelope he took into the lift?”

  “Where the hell’s Dekeles? Campbell, do you know?” Dennis stormed into Campbell’s office, tie to one side, and a shirt button undone.

  “No. Are you alright?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I need to speak to the idiot.” He dropped his briefcase onto a seat and straightened his tie, frowning as he found the button. “Slept in and then traffic was a killer this morning.”

  Campbell reached for the intercom. “Coffee?”

  “No, I—okay, actually yes.”

  “Joni, would you arrange coffee for Mr Connor and me please?” Campbell nodded through the glass window as she rose. “Grab a seat, Dennis. Why are you after Paul?”

  Dennis dropped onto the chair opposite Campbell, still fiddling with his tie. “Giving confidential footage to the police without approval. He handed a selection—meaning he selected what he wanted—to that Rossi guy.”

  “But isn’t it to help work out Jack’s movements before he disappeared?”

  “By picking the bits he thinks make me look guilty.”

  Campbell stared at Dennis. “But you’re not guilty of anything, Dennis, so there’s no chance of you being implicated from anything caught on our cameras.”

  “Well I’ve fixed it. Told Rossi he needs to go through legal channels if he wants anything else.”

  “Is it necessary? Surely, they’ll see us as putting up roadblocks to finding Jack.” He leaned forward. “If it helps the police identify anything of value to their investigation, then why would you stop them?”

  The reddening of Dennis skin, from his neck upwards, accompanied a cold anger in his eyes. “I’m CEO now and will do what I believe is best for the company. For that matter, what investigation? One cop who is spending more time with my wife than following up the few leads we have.”

  “I doubt he is spending much time with her.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  Joni tapped on the door and came in with two cups of coffee. Campbell didn’t answer until she’d left again, closing the door behind.

  “I’ve met him less times than you have.” Campbell sipped his coffee. He wasn’t about to share his speculation about Ben Rossi and what he once might have meant to Ellie.

  “On another matter, have you heard anything from the…the other party?” Dennis reached for his coffee. “The timing
couldn’t be worse.”

  “Actually, there is an email here, which I’ve sent across to you. They want a meeting.”

  “I’ll look at it soon.”

  “When will you tell Ellie what is going on, Dennis?”

  “That was Jack’s job. So, until he returns, it’s pointless. There’s no value in making any of this public and causing more harm than has already been done. I expect you to keep quiet.”

  For now, Dennis. For now.

  Dennis’ phone beeped a message. “Dekeles just drove in, so I’m going to go find him.”

  “Jack trusts him. Paul’s worked for him almost as long as I have, so take some friendly advice and put your dislike aside, for the sake of appearances, if nothing else.”

  On his feet, Dennis swallowed the last of his coffee. “I don’t trust him. I do like you, though, so let’s keep it that way and you not offer me anything more than the work you’re paid for.”

  Campbell gripped his cup until Dennis left and was out of sight. Wherever Jack was, he needed to come back.

  “There’s something terribly wrong. We need more footage.” Ellie rubbed her eyes, strained from watching the recordings for what felt like hours. “I’m not imagining it, am I?”

  Meg shook her head. “My opinion is the elevator is taken from another day. There doesn’t appear to have been time for Mr Bannerman to put the envelope out of sight between stepping in, and pushing the button. Not unless he stood there for a while and the segment was clipped a bit too quickly.”

  “Didn’t Paul put this together late at night? He must have made an error somewhere.” Ellie looked at Ben. “I’ll speak to Dennis and arrange access.”

  “And if he refuses?”

  “He can’t. And why would he?”

  “Why indeed?”

  Ellie bit her bottom lip. Dennis had nothing to do with this. Whatever else he was up to, it wasn’t about getting rid of Dad. She knew Ben was staring at her, waiting for a response, but he wasn’t getting one.

  “Ben? Sorry to interrupt.” Another detective peered in. “Got a missing fisherman.”

  “Off a boat?” Ben stood.

  “Nope. A pier. Think you’ll want to take a look.”

  “Be right there, Andy. Meg, would you see Ellie out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let me know how things go with Dennis. If he doesn’t agree, we’re not yet in a position to seek a warrant.”

  Ellie jumped to her feet. “Why not? We’ve acknowledged the envelope is missing…not just from those clips. It has to mean something.”

  “This department is over-stretched. I’d need more to go on for a warrant. And if I had one, it’ll be to look at more than monitors.”

  Why will nobody help?

  Ben’s expression was of pity.

  “I’ll see myself out. Let you get on with more important business. Thanks for helping, Meg.”

  “Ellie—”

  Ben’s voice followed her as she left the room and stalked through the open plan station.

  17

  Late And Missing

  “His wife is beside herself. Frank Barlow keeps to a routine. At the end of the pier before dawn, home by eight am. Stops to buy the paper on the way back, along with croissants for their breakfast.”

  “That’s pretty specific.” Ben surveyed the car park. Why was he here again?

  Detective Andy Montebello grinned. “Wrote it down. They have an arrangement. He fishes for dinner three days a week and buys them both breakfasts. She cooks him his favourite meals. Been this way for six years, ever since they moved to a town house up the road.”

  “No previous history of deviating from this? Catching up with a friend? No arguments?”

  “Not according to Mrs Barlow. Been married forty-two years, retired when they moved here. He was a teacher, she worked in retail. No children. Committed couple from the sound of it, and she is distraught.”

  “Do the usual. See if the local unit can help with a couple of uniforms to door knock. You backtrack based on Mrs Barlow’s statement of where he left from, went to, and anything possible in between.”

  Andy nodded and wandered away, tapping on his phone.

  Ben ran a hand through his hair. First Jack, now Frank. Was someone targeting this pier? From here, broken glass around the light pole reflected the sun. He turned to call after Andy.

  “We’re going to need some forensic help. Would you handle it?”

  “Sure thing. Shall I tape the area off?”

  “Not yet.” Ben chuckled as he left the carpark. Andy would love to turn the place into a crime scene.

  He squatted near the broken glass. A half brick lay not far away. Maybe bored kids.

  Or a serial killer.

  Not time to consider this yet.

  Just because two men were missing, last seen—or expected to be seen—around this pier, meant nothing. Coincidence. Except, Ben didn’t believe in coincidences.

  It was hot today. Hot and sticky and no chance of a storm until tomorrow, according to the latest weather report. Careful to avoid any glass, he continued to the pier. Two small yachts bobbed on one side with no obvious sign of anyone on board. He’d send Andy down to check. There private property and no fishing signs but no fencing, gates, or cameras. And Frank Barlow fished here three times a week, so did he have permission?

  Who owned the pier, anyway? It wasn’t attached to a house, or on a private beach, just tucked away in this little indentation in Port Phillip Bay. He gazed back the way he’d come, scanning the neighbouring streets. One apartment building had floors high enough to see the pier. Otherwise, the short road finished at the carpark and that was densely treed. Enough to hide someone who was up to no good.

  Sea Angel was moored at the furthest end. With no light from the broken globe, it would have been dark along here a few hours ago. Was Frank Barlow connected to Jack? Ben made a few notes on his phone to remind himself to check later.

  The yacht creaked as the tide moved it. What secrets did she hold? There was more to Jack’s disappearance than him taking off without a word, Ben knew it in his gut. And he needed to have a look around here, go below and see for himself there was no evidence of some terrible act.

  Ellie is the best way to do that.

  But she’d virtually stormed out of the precinct less than an hour ago. Had she gone to work, perhaps to confront Dennis? Ben sighed and dialled her number.

  Paul locked himself in his office. He wanted to punch the wall. No, he wanted to punch Dennis Connor.

  “Arrogant shithead.”

  He caught sight of Dennis on a monitor and put his fist up at it. If it wasn’t that he needed to be here, he’d have knocked him down ten minutes ago and walked out. Dennis was just waiting for the opportunity to fire him and he wasn’t about to let it happen.

  His hands were clenched so tightly they hurt. He stretched them out and looked at his knuckles, then the palms. Fighting hands. A past well forgotten, yet still of value sometimes. It was how he’d met Jack and how he’d stayed with him when others would see him gone.

  Paul sank into his chair. Dennis could yell at him as much as he wanted. With the key from a thin chain he took from around his neck, Paul unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk. Inside was a metal box, and he used a different key to open this. The tension drained away as he lifted the lid and he smiled. Worth every bad moment.

  He reached both hands into the box, fingers extended.

  There was a tap on the door.

  He withdrew his hands, ready to tell whoever it was to clear off. Except it was Ellie.

  “Give me a minute.”

  Paul closed the lid and returned the box to the drawer.

  He checked his tie was straight and jacket in place before opening the door. Ellie stared up at him with those big eyes of hers and his stomach turned. She was upset.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “May I come in?” she did anyway, dropping onto a seat, then swinging it to look at the monitors
.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve had a run-in with Dennis as well?” he wandered back to his own chair.

  “I thought you agreed not to—”

  “Listen, Ellie, I have the greatest respect for you and I did say I wouldn’t get into it with Dennis, but he just ripped my head off. Cut me some slack, please?”

  She swung back. “What for?”

  “Providing the video footage to Ben Rossi without his express permission.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “You knew?”

  “I know he’s gone primal and wants to make everyone jump through hoops, but Dennis is just trying to protect Bannerman Wealth Group. He’s never been in this position.”

  Bloody shouldn’t be.

  “Fine. He’s learning. But he does know better than to yell at senior staff, I think.”

  “Did he really?” Again, Ellie’s eyes were drawn to the screens. “What changed, Paul? What happened when I went to London?”

  This was the last question he’d expected. “I’m happy to talk to you about what I’ve observed.”

  She gazed at him, her expression unsure.

  “Not here though. And it will take more time than over a coffee.”

  “But you’ll tell me what you know?”

  He nodded.

  “Dinner? Tonight okay?” she went back to watching the screens, to Dennis, talking to Joni at her desk. She didn’t look happy.

  “Yeah…yes that’ll work. Want me to find somewhere?”

  “Thanks. Text me the details.”

  Her phone rang. She ignored it.

  “Answer it, Ellie. I’m just doing paperwork.”

  “Sorry.”

  She answered without checking the caller and Paul could swear her shoulders slumped.

  “I have nothing to say to you right now.”

  Interesting.

  “You’re where?” She glanced at him as she listened for a moment. “Do you think it will help? I mean, really help?”