by Jane Harper
Falk frowned. ‘What did they think had happened to her?’
‘That she’d cracked the shits. Gone off on her own. There’d been some back and forth between them about the best thing to do. Apparently this Alice had been making noises about bush-bashing north to find a road. The others weren’t keen, and she wasn’t too happy.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘Could be right. Her backpack and the phone were gone along with her. She’d taken the group’s only working torch.’ King’s mouth formed a hard line. ‘And judging by the injuries and the amount of stress they’d have been under, between you and me, it sounds like there’d been a bit of aggro at some point.’
‘You think they fought? Physically?’ Carmen said. ‘About what?’
‘Like I said, there’s still a fair bit to be ironed out. We’re moving as fast as we can, under the circumstances. Minutes count out there. The search has to take priority.’
Falk nodded. ‘How did the other four find their way back?’
‘They struck a course due north until they finally hit a road, then followed it round. It’s a rough technique, doesn’t always work, but they probably didn’t have much choice. What with the snakebite and everything else. Took them hours but paid off in the end.’ He sighed. ‘We’re focusing on trying to find the cabin. Best case scenario, she’s found her way back and bunkered down there.’
Falk didn’t ask what the worst case was. Alone and lost among the perils of the bush, he could think of a string of possibilities off the top of his head.
‘So that’s where we are,’ King said. ‘Your turn.’
Falk got out his phone. He had saved the voicemail from Alice Russell as a recording and was now glad that he had. His screen showed no signal at all. He passed the handset to King, who pressed it hard against his ear.
‘This bloody wind.’ King covered his other ear with his hand and closed his eyes, straining to hear. He listened twice more before handing the phone back, his face set.
‘You able to tell me what you were talking to her about?’ he said.
The helicopter flew low again, shaking the trees into a frenzy. Falk looked over at Carmen, who gave a tiny nod.
‘We saw Daniel Bailey in the carpark back at the lodge,’ Falk said. ‘The chief exec of the company they all work for. His name was on that participant list you sent us.’
‘The boss? Yeah, I know who he is. He was on the blokes’ team.’
‘Did the men’s group have contact with the women’s group while they were out there?’
‘Officially, no. Unofficially?’ King said. ‘Yeah, I’m told there was some. Why?’
‘That’s what we’ve been talking to Alice Russell about,’ Falk said. ‘Daniel Bailey.’
Day 1: Thursday Afternoon
Jill Bailey could see the back of Alice’s head grow further away with every step.
They had been walking for only twenty minutes and already the left heel of Jill’s boots was rubbing ominously, despite the three-figure premium she’d paid for something described as ‘quick-wick comfort technology’. It was cold, but her t-shirt clung under her arms and a bead of sweat trickled down and pooled in her bra. Her forehead felt damp and shiny and she wiped it subtly with her sleeve.
The only person she thought might be doing it tougher was Beth. Jill could hear the rasp of smoker’s lungs behind her. She knew she should turn and offer a few words of encouragement, but at that moment, she could think of nothing to say. Nothing convincing, at least.
Instead, she focused on keeping her own rhythm steady, trying not to let the discomfort show. The gentle drip of water from branches reminded her of the meditation tracks they piped through at spas. That was more her idea of a good weekend away; the outdoor pursuits had always been Daniel’s thing. Bloody Daniel. She wondered if he’d arrived at the lodge yet.
She sensed a change in the movement ahead and looked up from the path to see the others slowing. The trail had widened as trees started to thin around them and she now realised what she’d thought was the wind was actually the rush of water. She caught up to the others at the edge of the tree line, and blinked as bushland abruptly parted to reveal a tumbling wall of white.
‘Oh my God. Unbelievable,’ Jill breathed. ‘It looks like we’ve found the falls.’
Stunning was the word that came to mind. A lively river drove its way past the trees, bubbling and frothy as it raced beneath a wooden bridge before freefalling over a rocky edge. It plunged like a heavy curtain with a deafening white roar into a dark pool below.
The five women clattered onto the bridge and leaned against the railing, staring down into the chasm as the water tumbled and churned. The air was so crisp Jill felt she could almost touch it, and the freshwater spray cooled her cheeks. It was a hypnotic sight, and as she drank it in she almost felt the weight of her pack lift a little from her shoulders. She thought she could stand there forever.
‘We should go.’
The voice came from the far side of the bridge. Jill dragged her eyes away. Alice was already surveying the trail ahead. ‘We’ll probably lose light early up here,’ she said. ‘We should keep moving.’
Immediately, the blister forming on Jill’s heel flared up and her shirt began to chafe against her skin. She glanced at the heavy sky, then looked back once more at the view. She sighed.
‘All right. Let’s go.’
She prised herself away from the safety railing in time to catch Bree staring at the map and frowning.
‘All good?’ she asked, and Bree flashed her straight white teeth.
‘Yes. It’s this way.’ She refolded the map, pushed her dark ponytail over her shoulder and pointed to the single track ahead. Jill nodded, saying nothing. One track, one choice. She hoped Bree felt as confident when there was a decision to be made.
The path was muddy, and Jill feared she might slip with every step. An ache had started to inch its way along her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was from the weight of the pack, or from constantly bending her neck to watch where she put her feet.
They hadn’t gone far when the hum and trill of the bushland was broken by a shout up ahead. Bree had stopped and was pointing up at something off the path.
‘Look. It’s the first flag. Isn’t it?’
A crisp white square of cloth flapped bright against the stringy bark of the gum trees. Bree dropped her pack and tramped through the undergrowth to look.
‘It is. It’s got the Executive Adventures logo on it.’
Jill squinted. She couldn’t make out detail from that distance. Bree stretched up, fingertips reaching. She jumped and fell short.
‘I need something to stand on.’ Bree looked around, her hair blowing across her face.
‘Oh, let’s just leave it.’ Alice was looking at the sky. ‘It’s not worth breaking your neck for. What do we get if we find all six? A hundred dollars or something?’
‘Two hundred and forty each.’
Jill turned at Beth’s voice. It was the first time she’d heard her speak since they’d set off.
Beth put her pack down. ‘I’ll give you a boost.’
Jill watched the enthusiasm fade from Bree’s face.
‘No, it’s all right. Let’s leave it.’
But it was too late, her sister was already heading over. ‘Two hundred and forty bucks, Bree. I’ll get it myself if you’re not going to.’
Jill stood beside Alice and Lauren, their arms folded across their chests against the cold, and watched. Beth knelt in front of her sister, threading her fingers to create a makeshift step and waiting until Bree reluctantly placed a muddy boot in her clasped palms.
‘This is a waste of time,’ Alice said, then glanced sideways at Jill. ‘Sorry. Not the whole thing. Just this.’
‘Oh, let them have a go.’ Lauren watched as the twins wobbled against the tre
e trunk. ‘They’re not doing any harm. A couple of hundred is worth a lot in your twenties.’
Jill looked at Alice. ‘What’s your hurry anyway?’
‘Just that we’ll be putting these tents up in the dark as well as the wet at this rate.’
Jill suspected that Alice was right. The sky had grown dimmer and she realised she could no longer hear birdcall. ‘We’ll move on in a minute. I was actually talking about you wanting to get back to Melbourne early on Sunday. Didn’t you say you had something on?’
‘Oh.’ There was an awkward pause, then Alice waved a hand. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s prize night at Endeavour Ladies’ College,’ Lauren said, and Alice shot her a look Jill didn’t quite catch.
‘Is it? Well, we’ll get you back in time for that,’ Jill said. ‘What’s Margot receiving?’
Every time Jill met Alice’s daughter, she’d always come away with the strange feeling of having been somehow appraised. Not that the opinion of one sixteen-year-old held any value in Jill’s world – her need for that kind of approval was thirty-five years behind her – but there was something about Margot Russell’s cool gaze that was strangely unnerving.
‘She’s getting the dance award,’ Alice said.
‘That’s nice.’
‘Hmm,’ said Alice, who Jill knew held a master’s degree in business and commerce.
Jill glanced at Lauren. She’d never met Lauren’s daughter, but knew she was also an Endeavour girl. She’d overheard the woman complaining about the fees more than once. Jill dug deep, but could not dredge up the girl’s name.
‘Do you need to get back too?’ she said, finally.
A pause. ‘No. Not this year.’
At that moment there was a small cheer, and Jill turned with a flutter of relief to see the sisters brandishing the flag.
‘Well done, ladies,’ Jill said, and Bree beamed. Even Beth was smiling. It changed her face, Jill thought. She should do it more.
‘At last,’ Alice said, not quite far enough under her breath. She hoisted her pack onto her shoulders. ‘Sorry, but we’re really not going to make it before nightfall if we don’t move.’
‘Yes, thanks, Alice. You’ve said.’ Jill turned to the sisters. ‘Nice teamwork, girls.’
As Alice walked away, Bree’s smile held bright and firm. The single twitch at the corner of her mouth was so slight that if Jill hadn’t known better, she might have thought she’d imagined it.
Alice had been right. The campsite was pitch black by the time they arrived. The last kilometre of the hike had been done at a snail’s pace, picking their way along the path by torchlight and stopping every hundred metres to check the map.
Jill had expected to feel relief when they reached the clearing, but she felt only exhaustion. Her legs ached and her eyes felt strained from peering into the gloom. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but the site seemed larger than she’d expected. It was surrounded on all sides by swaying gums, their branches black fingers against the night sky. She could see no stars.
Jill set her pack down, glad to be free from the weight. As she stepped back, her heel caught on something and she stumbled, landing hard on her tailbone with a cry.
‘What was that?’ A light flashed in Jill’s eyes, blinding her. There was a tiny laugh of surprise, bitten off before it began. Alice. ‘God, Jill. You startled me. Are you all right?’
Jill felt someone grasp her arm.
‘I think you found the fire pit.’ Bree. Of course. ‘Let me help you.’
Jill felt Bree buckle a little under her weight as she clambered to her feet.
‘I’m fine. Thanks.’ Her palm felt grazed and raw, and she thought it might be bleeding. She reached for her torch but found her jacket pocket empty.
‘Damn.’
‘Are you hurt?’ Bree was still hovering.
‘I think I dropped my torch.’ Jill looked where she’d fallen, but it was too dark to see.
‘I’ll get mine.’ And Bree was gone. Jill could hear the sound of rummaging through a bag.
‘Here.’ The voice came out of nowhere, close to her ear, and Jill jumped. Beth. ‘Take this.’
Jill felt something placed into her hands. It was an industrial metal torch, long and heavy.
‘Thank you.’ Jill fumbled until she found the switch. A powerful beam sliced through the night, boring straight into Alice. The woman flinched and raised a hand to shield her eyes, her features harsh and exposed.
‘Jesus, it’s a bit bright.’
Jill took half a beat longer than necessary to drop the beam from Alice’s face to her feet. ‘It looks like it does the job. We might be glad of it later.’
‘I suppose.’ Alice stood with her feet captured in the circle of light, then took a single step to the side and disappeared.
Jill swung the beam slowly across the site. The white light stripped out most colours, washing everything with monochrome shades. The path they’d walked along looked thin and uneven, and the fire pit at her feet was black at the centre. A silent circle of trees grew all around, their trunks luminous under the beam. Beyond, the bushland was black. A shadow caught Jill’s eye as she swept the light along and she stopped. She moved the beam back, more slowly this time.
A slender figure stood motionless at the very edge of the clearing and Jill jumped, nearly stumbling again and sending the light bouncing in a crazy pattern. She caught herself, steadying her hand. The light shook very gently as she focused the beam.
Jill breathed out. It was only Lauren. Her tall, thin frame was almost absorbed by the vertical lines of the trees and the dark space beneath them.
‘Lauren, my God, you gave me a fright,’ Jill called. Her pulse still felt a little fast. ‘What are you doing?’
Lauren stood frozen, back to the group, staring into the darkness.
‘Lau–’
She put up her hand. ‘Shh.’
They all heard it at once. A crack. Jill held her breath, her ears ringing in the void. Nothing. Then another crack. This time the broken rhythm of debris snapping underfoot was unmistakable.
Jill took a fast step backwards. Lauren turned, her face grey in the stark light.
‘There’s someone out there.’
Chapter 5
‘Daniel Bailey?’ King said, looking from Falk to Carmen. ‘Why are you looking at him?’
The wind threw clouds of dust and leaves into the air and on the far side of the road, Falk could see the group of searchers disappear into the bushland. Melbourne felt a long way away.
‘This is strictly confidential,’ Falk said, and waited until King nodded.
‘Of course.’
‘It’s around money laundering. Allegedly.’
‘At BaileyTennants?’
‘We believe so.’ Among others. The boutique accounting firm was one of a number under simultaneous investigation by the AFP.
‘I thought they’re supposed to be a respectable firm? Family-owned for generations and all that.’
‘Yeah. We think Daniel and Jill Bailey’s father was involved before them.’
‘Really?’ King raised his eyebrows. ‘So he’s, what, passed on the family trade?’
‘Something like that.’
‘How bad are we talking?’ King said. ‘A bit of fiddling the books or –?’
‘The allegations are serious,’ Carmen said. ‘Organised. High level. Ongoing.’
In truth, Falk knew he and Carmen weren’t sure how far the full investigation had spread. They had been assigned to investigate BaileyTennants specifically, and told only what was directly relevant. The firm was a cog in a larger network, that much they knew. How far that network reached, and how deep it ran, had not been shared with them. They guessed nationally, suspected internationally.
King frowned. ‘So Alice came to you
to dob in –?’
‘We approached her,’ Falk said. She possibly hadn’t been the right choice; he could admit that now. But on paper she had ticked all the boxes. High enough up the ladder to have access to what they needed, deep enough in the shit to give them sufficient leverage. And she was not a Bailey.
‘So it’s both Daniel and Jill Bailey you’re after?’
‘Yes,’ Carmen said. ‘And Leo. Their father.’
‘He must be well into retirement, isn’t he?’
‘He’s still active. Allegedly.’
King nodded, but Falk could see a look settle in his eyes. It was one he knew well. Falk was aware that in the grand scheme of things, most people ranked money laundering somewhere between shoplifting and fare evasion. It shouldn’t happen, of course, but a handful of rich people determined to avoid their fair share of tax was hardly worth stretching police resources for.
It was about more than that, Falk would sometimes try to explain. If the time was right and the other person’s eyes weren’t too glazed. If serious money was being hidden, it was for a reason. Those pristine white collars only got grubbier the further down the trail, until by the end they were downright dirty. Falk hated it. He hated everything about it. He hated the way men in plush offices were able to wash their hands at arm’s length and tell themselves it was simply a bit of creative accounting. The way they could spend their bonuses and buy their mansions and polish their cars, all the while pretending that they couldn’t begin to guess what was rotting at the far end. Drugs. Illegal firearms. Child exploitation. It varied, but it was all paid for in the common currency of human misery.
‘Do the Baileys know they’re being investigated?’ King said and Falk glanced at Carmen. It was the question they had been asking themselves.
‘We haven’t got any reason to think so,’ he said finally.
‘Except that your contact called you the night she disappeared.’
‘Except that.’
King rubbed his chin, stared out towards the bush.
‘What does all this mean for them?’ he said at last. ‘Alice Russell gives you what you need, and then what? The Baileys lose their firm?’
