Last Known Contact

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Last Known Contact Page 11

by Phillipa Nefri Clark


  “Paul might have more information. There’s cameras in the area which Andy is getting onto.”

  “Speaking of Andy,” Two coffees in hand, Andy nudged the door open. “A little bird told me you have yours black. So that’s what it is.” He put a cup down in front of each of them. “Just to interrupt for one sec, early enquiries report no one running out of the alley. But I have someone checking up on cameras in the area.” He pulled the door closed as he left.

  “There was someone there, Ben. Paul saw him as well.”

  “I know there was. Paul tailed you from your building.”

  “He did what!”

  Eyebrows raised, Ben picked up his cup and took a sip.

  “Why would he follow me?”

  “What were you and Dennis arguing about?”

  Hand half-way to her cup, Ellie froze. “How do you even know we were. And it is not your business.”

  “I’m not going to use it against you. Let me decide if it has anything to do with Jack, or for that matter, whoever was in the alley today.”

  “If you must know, I told him he needed to give police full access to the footage and anything else you need. I asked why Bannerman isn’t doing its own investigation into Dad’s disappearance. God knows we have the resources.”

  “He didn’t agree?”

  “Of course not. So, you’ll need to get a warrant because I’m only a board member. I can let you into my office and that is all.”

  “I’ll take you up on that.”

  “Oh.” Ellie picked up her coffee and sipped, expecting the worst. Rich flavours surprised her. “This isn’t bad.”

  “Thank Andy. He worked as a barista through university. What else?”

  “He suggested Dad might have been…well, depressed.”

  Ben laughed. “He doesn’t know Jack as well as he thinks.”

  Lightness filled the dark hole in Ellie’s heart for a moment. She’d known it couldn’t be true, but to hear Ben—of all people—confirm it, gave her a sudden hope.

  She smiled. “No. No, he doesn’t know Dad at all.”

  They finished their coffee in silence, but the tension had left the room. After this, Ellie would go home and shower, wash away the fears and go visit Michael.

  “Where are things with Sea Angel? Are your people still onboard?”

  “Yes, and probably for the rest of the day. They are checking everything, from fingerprints to trace. And in advance, I can only apologise for the mess they’ll leave.”

  “Trace? Do you mean blood? Do you think that gun…” she put her hand over her mouth as her mind raced back to Ben’s scenario of Dennis shooting Dad.

  “Hey, Ellie calm down. Yes, blood is one thing, along with all manner of other substances. A gun under a mattress is a highly unusual find. Did you recognize it?”

  “No. I’m not one for guns but Dad has a couple. Registered. He keeps them in safes along with cash. Sounds a bit underbelly.” She leaned her arms on the table. “You don’t think some mafia or something is involved?” The look Ben gave her almost made her laugh. “Okay, just clutching at straws. Because why would there be a gun under a mattress on a yacht?”

  Ben’s phone vibrated. “Sorry.” He read a message before glancing back. “Is there any chance Dennis will change his mind about giving us access to Jack’s office? And the footage?”

  Ellie shook her head. “Doubt it. But something he said just came back to me. He said there’s no point letting you have access if Dad doesn’t want to be found. What on earth does that mean?”

  After sliding his phone into a pocket, Ben copied Ellie’s crossed-arms-on-the-table, leaning toward her a little. “People go missing for a lot of reasons. The overwhelming majority are quickly located, even if they don’t want to contact their families, they at least advise police they are safe.”

  “And the ones you don’t find?”

  “Missing adults of sound mind and means—like Jack—are often just wanting time out. Things might be rough at home, or a bad investment scared them. They go without telling anyone because they are under so much pressure. Or from shame. Jack reached out to you with his phone call, and the so-far unlocated note. It fits the profile of someone wanting a break, but not disappearing without a trace.” He shifted his position, linking his fingers together. “Perhaps he is taking a few days for himself and the message didn’t get through.”

  “He had a lot on his plate. But Campbell has been watching for any transactions and there are none, not on Dad’s business cards or personal. Campbell takes care of everything for Dad.”

  “And his phone appears inactive since shortly after leaving the building the day he disappeared. Which brings me to some other reasons people vanish.”

  Ben’s expression darkened. He looked away, down at his hands, then back into her eyes.

  “Not going to lie, Ellie. Some people take their lives and are never found. Or are murdered and hidden. It happens, you know it does. And while I don’t believe Jack would be depressed, he did have things he wasn’t proud of.”

  “I’m not here to discuss his childhood, or his relationship with Michael.” Ellie sat upright.

  “Not asking you to. Look, I need to consider everything because that’s what I do. Don’t get shitty with me because I ask questions or paint scenarios. None of this is personal.”

  And that’s what hurt most. It used to be personal. Once, Ellie would have been on the other side of the table, in Ben’s arms, sobbing her heart out if need be, but not anymore. Now, his familiar face was both friend and enemy and the resurgence of old feelings was unacceptable.

  But real.

  She pushed herself onto her feet. “Unless you need me, I’d like to go home.”

  He stared up at her. Was it disappointment lurking behind those eyes? Couldn’t be, not if this wasn’t personal.

  “I’ll ask someone to give you a lift.”

  “I’ll grab a tram, thanks. And I’ll stay out of alleys.”

  He grinned as she pushed the door open.

  Andy was on the other side, about to knock. “Heading off. Need a lift?”

  “Nope. But thank you.”

  A few feet away, her phone beeped a message and she stopped to read it. Behind her, Andy’s voice carried as he spoke to Ben.

  “I have issues with this Paul Dekeles fellow.”

  She took a discreet step back, lips open.

  “Me too.”

  “You don’t just follow someone to see if they are okay. What about a text, or phone call?”

  “Something doesn’t sit right.”

  About to go back to ask what that something was, Ellie heard the door click closed. She dropped the phone back into her handbag, message unread, and found her way out.

  She’d known Paul for years. He’d worked for Dad for as long as she could recall, starting off in some position away from the business, but eventually becoming head of security. He did everything to look after the building and Dad.

  “I’m not Jack’s bloody keeper.”

  The words shot through her mind from the night he’d picked her up at the airport. He was Dad’s keeper, at least as far as security, so why or how had he lost sight of the man who paid his wages?

  Ellie shook her head as she exited the police station. She headed for the closest tram stop. Paul was loyal to Dad. She would never believe otherwise. Police could think what they wanted but he wasn’t the issue. It was more likely Dennis knew something from his hostile and odd behaviour.

  At the tram stop, Ellie remembered the message. It was from Paul. 8pm. At Cameron’s.

  Dinner at such an upmarket restaurant was the last thing she wanted now. But she had to go. This was a chance to work out exactly what she was up against. What was going on behind the scenes during her absence. Nothing more or less.

  21

  Dinner

  Paul took his time getting ready for the date with Ellie. He’d left work early, which was deserved after saving her in the alley from God-knows-
what. A long shower and shave, fresh clothes, and a pre-dinner shot of vodka over ice all put him in the mood for fine dining and company. Such a pity Ellie was under pressure, but he’d prepared a range of subjects to talk about, and would ensure she’d enjoy the evening.

  When she’d accepted his invitation, he’d known immediately where to take her. Cameron’s was intimate, expensive, and perfect for couples. He’d already spoken to the maître de and arranged a discreet table outside overlooking the river. Ideal for watching the colours of the sunset change above the Yarra River. Then perhaps she’d enjoy a walk alongside the water.

  He’d not offered to collect her. This was a ten-minute walk from her apartment, or a two-minute tram ride. Tonight, she’d be here with an open heart. He knew it.

  Go slowly.

  They’d known each other for ever. And there were many things in common, but others so different it would be a delight to discover them. He smiled at his reflection in the hallway mirror and ran a hand through his short hair.

  On the street, he grabbed a tram. His apartment in Footscray was far enough out to escape the worst of the city, but close enough to easily commute. Not that this was long term. His plans went way beyond a small apartment in the suburbs. With few expenses, he’d saved most of his income for years and was almost ready to enjoy the fruits of his labour. Almost.

  He arrived early, but rather than go in, wandered up the street and answered a few messages, keeping an eye out for Ellie. Like Jack, she was always on time. And there she was, at one minute to eight. She stood outside and gazed around so he waved to get her attention, running across the road.

  After her scare today, he knew better than to give her a welcome kiss. Let her fears subside and then see where the evening took them.

  “Sorry! Almost ran late.” He slowed as he approached. “Last minute issues at work. You look lovely.” She did. Hair loose around her shoulders, some sort of a pretty short dress, showing off her legs. “Ready for dinner?”

  A few minutes later, seated at the table he’d requested, they read their menus. “Shall we have an entrée? I believe the shared antipasto is excellent.”

  She closed her menu and put it aside. “I’m happy with just a main, but please get something for yourself. I’m not super hungry.”

  “Nah, happy with a main. Maybe we’ll have dessert if you want it later?” he signalled for the waiter and they ordered.

  “Are you sure you don’t want wine? Or a cocktail?” Paul asked for the second time, surprised she only asked for sparkling water tonight.

  “Bit of a headache from the heat today.”

  “We can move inside to the air-con.”

  “Oh, no, I like it here and this is nice, sitting here and watching the river.” She smiled and leaned back in her chair as their drinks arrived.

  Paul lifted his beer. “To summer evenings with good company.”

  “Cheers.” Ellie responded by tapping her glass against his. “I really appreciate us having a chance to talk away from the office.”

  Oh, that.

  Well, he had agreed to fill her in on the last month’s events. “Agree. Things are pretty tense there at times. Have been for a while.” Yep, time to tell tales.

  “How so?” Now, she sat forward, one hand on her glass, playing with the condensation on the outside. She had pretty hands. Long fingers. Her nails were short, but perfect.

  “Paul?”

  “Miles away.” He took another sip of beer. “About a week after you went to London, Jack and Dennis got into it. After hours, nobody else on the floor. I was about to go home and saw a lot of arm waving on a monitor, so shot upstairs.”

  “What happened?”

  “They were yelling at each other and didn’t even hear the elevator because I got right to Jack’s door before they saw me.” He paused for effect. Ellie was hanging on his words. “I couldn’t make sense of most of it, but heard a few things. Meredith’s name. Retirement and succession. The Foundation.”

  “What? In what context?”

  “I did hear Jack say…or yell, that he had no intention of handing his company to Dennis or of retiring.”

  “No. He won’t retire for years yet. But Dennis would be the logical next CEO.”

  “Apparently not in Jack’s opinion. Dennis said something about getting rid of the Foundation because it costs too much to run.”

  “Oh. He made a comment about it today.”

  I know he did.

  “You mentioned Meredith?”

  “Right.” Paul dropped his head. “I don’t want you upset.”

  “Paul? I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on.”

  When he looked up, her face expected the worst. She deserved better than Connor and perhaps with a bit more of a nudge, she’d turn her back on him completely. “Dennis said one way or another he is having the business, and that includes going via the boss’s wife.”

  Ellie put one hand over her mouth, eyes glistening.

  “Damn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He put a hand over her spare one and squeezed. “If it is any consolation, Jack laughed at him. I figured he must be confident she wasn’t interested in Dennis.”

  “Um, I need a tissue.” Ellie used both hands to look in her bag and dabbed her eyes. “Sorry, just a silly reaction. What did Dennis do then?”

  “Walked out, forced his way past me and slammed the door to the stairs. Must have needed to take them to cool off.” Paul grinned. This bit was fun.

  “And Dad?”

  “I might refrain from quoting the words he used. But he was riled up. Actually, it was more than that, he seemed concerned about Connor’s threats of taking the business, more so than the wife. We had a few talks away from the office. Coffees, late-night dinners when he couldn’t bear going back to the house.”

  The waiter brought a basket of bread and refilled their water. Paul waited until he was out of earshot. “Jack looked after me when I was younger, so I was happy to be there if he wanted to talk.”

  “And these talks. Tell me more.” Ellie took a slice of bread. Good, she needed to eat.

  “Not much to tell, Ellie. He vented a bit, mostly about Connor being a pain in the butt. Said he should never have hired him but didn’t know how to change things. Wished he’d kept your job open for you.”

  Halfway through buttering her bread, Ellie stopped, looking at him in shock.

  Found the key!

  Paul made himself busy with his own bread. “And I know you don’t want me bagging Connor, but I never understood why Jack hired him. Oh, I’m sure he’s good at his job, but,” he smiled at Ellie, “he isn’t you, and a lot of business left with him in the role.”

  “That’s nice of you to say, Paul. But I love the Foundation and all the people we’ve helped since I started it. And Dennis is wrong about it costing so much because it brings in a lot of business through my networking. He only has to ask Campbell if he wants figures.”

  “I hate to ask this, I really do, because I think Jack will come home from wherever he is at the moment,” Paul put down his bread and leaned toward Ellie, lowering his voice. “but what if he doesn’t? Where will it leave you, and Bannerman Wealth Group? Theoretically speaking.”

  “I might have a glass of wine.” Ellie nodded at a passing waiter, who took her order. “Sorry, I’m ready for one now. There’s not a lot I can say, Paul. I’m bound by some confidentiality clauses but you be assured your position is safe.”

  “Not worried about that right now. Worried about you.”

  “Don’t. Dad always plans ahead and when the time comes for him to retire, I’ll be offered certain options. Dennis is backing the wrong horse, to be crude, if he wants permanent control of the group.” As though she was at peace with it all, Ellie bit into the bread.

  Paul followed suit, not tasting his piece as the implications sunk in. Dennis Connor was about to lose a whole lot of happiness. A whole lot.

  Ellie didn’t have a headache and had delayed dr
inking to keep a clear head. But now, she sipped the cold white wine with appreciation. Across the table, Paul munched on bread. He’d gone quiet since she’d mentioned Dennis being on the wrong track. Was it too much information?

  Or, just enough.

  Whether Paul misunderstood Dad, or was lying, she had no idea. He was hiding something and probably exaggerating other things and it annoyed the hell out of her. She’d play his game for a while and if it led to a dead end, so be it.

  “I never thanked you for today.”

  Paul frowned as though puzzled.

  “In the alley.”

  “Oh. My pleasure. Wish I’d have caught the little shit though.”

  “So do I. Would love to ask him what he was doing.”

  “Probably some pick-pocket or mugger looking for easy prey.”

  “Thanks.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You know what I mean. You were alone in a secluded place with no weapon. He’d have grabbed your bag and taken off before you knew it.”

  She tilted her head. “How do you know I don’t carry a weapon?”

  His burst of laughter turned several heads. The waiter must have recognized her expression before she controlled it, as he hurried over to top up her glass. Once Paul calmed himself, still grinning, she offered a toast.

  “To strong men coming to the rescue.” She held her glass up and after a moment, he tapped his beer against it, his face more sober.

  “Come on, Ellie. I wasn’t having a go.”

  She smiled and sipped.

  Their meals arrived, and the table was silent as they ate. Unlike last night with Ben, when the sight of food he’d ordered made her hungry, she barely tasted what was probably a delicious meal.

  “This is lovely, thank you.”

  “You deserve a nice night out. Too many bad things going on. Like the alley.”

  “Speaking of which, Paul, how on earth did you find me there?” she picked up the fork and played with a piece of carrot, trying not to be too obvious watching him.

 

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