One Single Thing

by Tina Clough

  ‘My God! So someone was really determined to get her. But why? And who is he?’

  ‘We don’t know. There is another aspect I haven’t mentioned yet. Her flat was being monitored with video equipment.’

  She listens to this new revelation without exclamations, just takes it in and gets to work on the facts. She asks several questions about the abduction and the camera and sits back with a thoughtful frown.

  ‘I can’t understand how the police can ignore a thing like this – it’s unacceptable! And how on earth did it happen a second time? A man takes her away in a bin and she goes through that terrible trauma trying to get away. She is locked in, but somehow he manages to take her again. Unless she opens the door to someone she knows well, someone unthreatening – and then leaves it open? No, I can’t believe she would do that when she was under threat. She would have been extra careful.’

  ‘Exactly. She wouldn’t have opened the door to him a second time. She had a peephole and could see who was outside. And if he covered it with his hand she would not have unlocked the door. She said in her note to Noah that she was going to have the safety chain done up all the time. There’s no damage to the door and the chain is intact. When Noah went there the door was ajar.’

  With a promise to keep her informed I leave. I am sorry to leave her upset; she is a good person and not used to violence.

  A text message to Dao gets no response, so I go to the supermarket. Halfway along the deli counter my phone buzzes.

  ‘Hi,’ says Willow. ‘Just a quick update – I’ve told Noah already. I bullied my way to a very superior cop, by phone, and the news is not good. He said, and I quote, “The file is flagged for no action by police. A matter of national security is being investigated by another agency.” End of quote. It can only mean that some Government agency has put a block on it – or possibly that Interpol is involved. I’ve never come up against this before, so I’m going to have a chat to a law professor at Victoria University who is a specialist in national security and civil rights legislation. Any news from Dao yet?’

  With the shopping in a chiller bag in the back of the car, I return to Hope’s street. Noah will be back at work now, but I can walk around and see if anything new occurs to me. The street is a mixture of activities that have evolved over decades: a little shop that sells cigarettes and magazines and chocolate bars, one café, workshops and offices of different kinds. A little micro-cosmos just to one side of the CBD. I start two blocks away from Hope’s flat looking for businesses that might open early. I work my way along and stop to look up at her windows under the roofline diagonally across the street. A length of cable is still attached to the wall between two windows.

  Someone speaks right behind me and makes me jump. ‘That building is getting a lot of attention today.’

  He is an old guy, wearing blue overalls and heavy work boots. Behind him, through a wide doorway I can see a workshop. I glance up at the sign: Electrical Repairs and Motor Rewinding.

  ‘Oh yeah? Maybe you saw my friend Noah this morning.’

  ‘There was a very skinny fellow here, earlier. We had a chat. And then another one, but much younger. Not that long ago, an hour perhaps.’

  ‘Did the skinny guy tell you why he was asking questions?’

  He nods. ‘He said his sister has disappeared from that building over there. He was asking about a man with a truck and a wheelie bin. Which I hadn’t seen.’

  ‘And the younger guy – what did he ask?’

  ‘Nothing, he never spoke to me at all. He just stood looking up at the building for a while. He went inside and a couple of minutes later he came back out and walked away.’

  ‘Did you get a good look at him?’

  ‘Good enough, he walked right past me. I thought it was funny there was a second chap interested in the building on the same day, so I watched him. A young Maori fellow, good looking – smart clothes. Not those jeans with holes like they all seem to wear these days.’

  I thank him and walk back to the car. My head is full of speculation. Was the young guy Hope’s stalker? And if it was, why was he there? Or was it someone from whatever agency had installed the camera, seeing he knew how to get into the building? And how likely is it that two handsome and smartly dressed young guys are suddenly interested in Hope?

  I sit in the car and wonder what I else I can do to pass the time, but before I come up with anything Dao calls. ‘Can you pick me up, please? I’ve seen Benson – I’ll tell you when I see you.’

  Chapter twelve

  Dao says she will tell me everything when we get home, but we have a lengthy stop on the Harbour Bridge, waiting for a truck crash to be cleared, and she changes her mind. I turn the engine off and Dao undoes her seatbelt and sits cross-legged in her seat, leaning against the door.

  ‘When I got there, I refused to tell them my name, I just said I had something important to tell him. They were very nice – they gave me a cup of coffee and a biscuit and at lunchtime they said they could organise a sandwich. Wasn’t that kind? They probably thought I was quite young.’

  ‘Everyone does. Be grateful – you’ll appreciate it when you get to my age.’

  If Benson had not moved to a different station, the desk staff would have recognised her, so at least she avoided the kind of attention her unfortunate fame has exposed her to.

  ‘Anyway, he must have come in at the back of the building. When he got the message that someone was waiting, he came out and you should have seen his face! He was so surprised, but he’s smart. He made the connection nearly straight off – Willow calling, you, me. Once we were in his office he said, “This guy, whose sister has disappeared, is he a friend of Hunter’s?” so I had to say yes, kind of. He said it was just too much of a coincidence to get a call from Willow asking a favour and then me coming to see him.’

  ‘Good old Benson,’ I said. ‘And knowing how suspicious he is of me doing something illegal, I suppose he refused to tell you anything.’

  ‘Oh no, he was really helpful. He listened to what I told him and I said that I am so worried about Hope and what might be happening to her. He asked me to tell him the whole thing and I did, all about the stories she wrote and the video clip of the airport explosions – the lot. I got a bit angry after a while.’

  She stops talking, looks out the window at a tow truck edging past us towards the crash at the crest of the bridge.

  ‘But maybe that was good that he saw how angry I was. I said we feel terrible that nobody will help Noah and that I know how Hope must be wondering if anyone is ever going to find her – and that makes me really upset.’

  ‘And then he worried about you thinking of the things that happened to you, and decided to help you?’

  ‘I didn’t do it on purpose. I wouldn’t do that! It was just part of telling the story. He said he would see what he could find out. He looked up something on his computer and made a phone call. He said that someone he had known for a long time was a friend of the woman who had disappeared, and he was just trying to find out what was going on. I could see from his face that he didn’t like the reply he got. Another authority – which must mean the intelligence people or something – has put a block on Hope’s file and the police are being kept out of the investigation.’

  ‘Was he able to tell you anything at all? Did he hint at what we could do?’

  She frowns and shakes her head. ‘I was a bit annoyed with him at first, when he told me all that. But when I was leaving he said he hoped to see me again very soon. He had a funny look on his face, as if he was planning something. Maybe he thinks he can find something out, sort of unofficially? And he said he likes my hair long.’

  ‘He’s an old flirt,’ I say and smile at her expression. ‘Just kidding – but he’s very fond of you and he has been impressed with you from the very start. Maybe he will find something out, but I’m not banking on it. Has he learnt to keep his shirt tucked in yet?’

  Now Dao smiles t
oo. ‘God no, he still looks like he dressed in the dark. I don’t think he cares. His tie was stuffed into a mug that says Top Cop and his desk is a mess. And he asked if your wounds have caused any lasting problems. I was really pleased he didn’t ask if you still have loaded guns around all the time. I don’t want to lie to Benson.’

  I don’t ask her if Benson said anything about the missing barrel of drugs. We know they don’t think I took it, but Dao might still worry. There has been nothing in the papers about it having been found.

  Samantha calls that evening. ‘I’ve been thinking about Hope all day and wondering why on earth she opened the door for someone, when she knew the danger she was in. But I have an idea how it could have happened – it might be a bit far-fetched, but still it probably fits the circumstances. Say he came back pretending to be a policeman. He takes for granted that she has been interviewed by the police after the abduction and that a visit from police wouldn’t be unexpected. We know he could get into her building – he did it the first time. But a cop wouldn’t have the code, so this time he calls from the street and says something like, “We need to ask you some questions, can you give us the door code please.” And Hope gives it to him, but he calls again and says, “It’s not working, the door won’t open.” So maybe she says, “Go across the street so I can see you are really the police.” And she looks out the window and there he is in uniform. From high up she might not recognise him as the man who abducted her, so she runs downstairs to let him in.’

  ‘Very clever,’ I say. ‘And that would explain why her phone was still in the flat, and her bag. If she was just quickly running downstairs, she might well have left her door ajar and not taken anything with her. So he grabbed her then and there, and somehow got her away before anyone noticed.’

  ‘But why, Hunter? The only thing that comes to mind is that something happened in Pakistan, don’t you think? But surely researching those safe houses can’t have triggered this? Her articles haven’t even been published yet.’

  I don’t tell her about the airport bombs, just thank her and promise to let her know if we find out anything new. Dao is dying to know who I was talking to; when I tell her Samantha’s theory she nods.

  ‘She is clever! That fits all those weird facts. Did you notice that Noah didn’t want me to tell her about the camera? I was just about to and he kind of jumped in before I could say anything. Do you think there’s something he’s not telling us?’

  ‘I’m not sure if he interrupted you because you were about to mention the camera. I noticed his expression when Samantha was talking about how good-looking the stalker is. I could see his mood changing – it made him angry for some reason. Perhaps he’s one of those people who feel a need to rubbish anyone that somebody else praises. He didn’t like it when you said you understood why Hope liked Willard’s voice, either.’

  ‘I know, I noticed that. He’s an idiot,’ she says dismissively. ‘Like he’s jealous of everyone he meets. How depressing.’

  I don’t mention my suspicion that maybe he is jealous of anyone close to Hope, people she feels attracted to. The kind of jealousy one mostly associates with lovers, not siblings. The idea is unpleasant; I hope I am wrong.

  ‘It could be a serious case of low self-esteem,’ I say, trying to be fair. ‘It would be hard to live with self-doubt all the time. He and Hope seem to have been very close, though. The way she said in that story about the abduction that she couldn’t wait for him to be back from his holiday.’

  ‘I suppose everyone is loved by at least one person,’ says Dao and gets up from the table. ‘So long as nobody expects me to love him. I do feel sorry for him, but I don’t really like him. He’s not a bit like you.’

  Just before ten Noah calls. ‘Sorry to call so late. I’ve had a hell of a day with a project that’s not going well and a boss who wants things done yesterday. I’m still at work, but I thought I’d better tell you what I found out this morning.’

  I sit down next to Dao on the sofa and turn on the phone speaker. ‘Go right ahead. What did you find out?’

  ‘The guy in the flat below Hope heard the bin bumping down the stairs. He looked out the window and saw a guy loading it, said it looked very heavy. And then he went and had a shower. He can’t describe the man, but he said the pick-up truck was quite old and had no canopy over the deck. He hasn’t noticed anything suspicious since then. The people in the other flat on that floor never heard or saw anything – they leave for work very early. The woman in the café was putting her sidewalk sign out and she noticed a small white truck. She saw the man lifting the bin and she said he had a terrible job getting it up – she stayed outside and watched. She described him as not very tall and a bit stocky, so at least we have one more fact to go on. She has no idea what the number plate was or what make of truck it was.’

  ‘I went back and wandered around for a while when I was waiting for Dao,’ I say. ‘You remember the guy who runs the electrical repair shop, across the street and down a bit? You talked to him this morning. He said there was a handsome young guy there at lunchtime today, staring at the building and then going inside.’

  It takes a good ten minutes to fill him in on everything, including Dao’s visit to Benson.

  ‘I’ll be in touch,’ says Noah when we end the call.

  I wake in the night and can’t go back to sleep. With Dao sleeping beside me and Scruff on the floor, chasing rabbits in his sleep, I lie on my back and look up at the stars through the skylight. Being in our bedroom on a clear night is a bit like being at the bottom of a well. Dark curtains screen out all light from outside. I can look straight up and see thousands of stars that would be invisible if I went outside into the light pollution of the city. A piece of private magic.

  In my head a circular process starts up and keeps going. Who put the camera in Hope’s flat? Was it a Government agency? If it was, they know about the bin man – are they doing anything about it? Or was it the bin man who put up the camera? Who is the young guy and why did he go to Hope’s flat? How did he know the door code? What is Noah’s problem? Why the mood changes, the difference in how he communicates from one day to the next? Does he have a mental problem or a drug habit, or both? I could never rely on him in an emergency; he is far too volatile.

  Dawn dilutes the darkness and the stars are no longer visible. I turn on my side and listen to Dao’s barely audible breathing and wait for morning.

  Somehow, I fall asleep and wake to an empty bedroom. My phone tells me it is half-past eight. The skylight is a square of blue; the house is totally silent. I never sleep in; sleeping in is what other people do. I stay where I am and wonder if my brain has worked anything out while I slept. I close my eyes and let my mind wander; and smell coffee. I open my eyes again: Dao has silently appeared beside the bed with a tray.

  ‘Breakfast in bed! We’ve never done this before.’ She puts the tray in the middle of the bed and gets in on her side. ‘Coffee, toast, half a muffin each. Isn’t it great?’

  ‘You are a treasure,’ I say. ‘Where is the little furry thing?’

  ‘He’s in the courtyard digging a big hole next to the wall on Nigel’s side and he’s totally filthy. I’ll have to hose him down later.’

  It is as if we have made a silent pact to not talk about the Hope affair. We do what we have done on hundreds of days before Noah turned up on our doorstep: I work for a few hours, Dao studies or plays a game on her laptop, we have lunch. Early afternoon we take Scruff, still slightly damp from his hosing, for a run. We return at the end of the afternoon and Dao says she is going to call Plum while I unpack the shopping. Plum is my much younger sister, who has just graduated from university and now works for an architect in Taupo. Dao always lies on our bed when she talks to Plum. One day I’ll ask Plum, if she is on her bed at the same time.

  The doorbell buzzes and I run down to find Benson on the doorstep, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I never thought of him as a guy who would wear jeans and it
makes me smile. At least he looks tidier than he usually does with his shirt untucked.

  ‘Hunter,’ he says and returns the smile without any idea of what made me smile. ‘How are you? I have a couple of days off and I thought I would call in. I hope it’s not inconvenient.’

  His face reveals nothing when he sees the shotgun leaning into the corner beside the stairs in the living room. ‘Still there?’

  ‘Yes, still there. It’s a peace of mind thing now. Like the alarm system.’

  He nods thoughtfully and looks around for Dao.

  ‘She’s upstairs, she’ll be down in a minute. Would you like a beer?’

  There must be a purpose behind this visit; we are not on social terms. Last time he and I met was at the conclusion of the trial of Mint, where Dao was a key witness. Having Benson back in the house revives memories from a time of threat and peril, when Dao’s life and mine were under siege. We escaped injured but alive; several people died.

  I get us a beer each and we sit down by the glass wall to the balcony. I say nothing, just wait for Benson to tell me why he has come. After a moment he says, looking slightly awkward, ‘I’ll wait until Dao gets here. I’ve got some news.’

  When Dao comes down, she gives him a big smile. ‘Hi, Benson. This is nice! You said we would see each other soon, but I didn’t know if you meant it.’ She sits down cross-legged in the corner of the sofa and looks expectantly at him. ‘We can tell you lots more about Hope, if you like. Hunter found out some new things yesterday and so did Noah.’

  ‘Maybe later,’ says Benson. ‘But first I want to tell you something. As you know I don’t like rules being broken – by me or anyone else.’

  He has the uncomfortable look of a man who is about to do something he never thought he would do, as if he should perhaps leave right now.