Challis - 04 - Chain of Evidence (7 page)

Exactly, said van Alphen heavily.

Ellen ignored him. She has a
history of it, always returning home of her own accord or being discovered at a
friends house. But shes never stayed away as long as this before, and none of
her friends have seen her. Second scenario: shes had an accident, possibly on
her bike, possibly while running away or exploring waste ground somewhere. If
thats the case, shell be found eventually, but if she requires urgent medical
care we need to send out search parties at first light tomorrow morning.
Uniforms have already begun searching the mangrove flats, the tip and the
quarry. Here Ellen nodded an acknowledgement to Kellock. Third alternative,
her classmates, or older children, have done something with her. Locked her in
a shed, perhaps. An abandoned house. Again, we need to search thoroughly. Four,
this is revenge for something. Does the family have any enemies? Five, the
mothers de facto, Justin Pedder. He had access to Katie. Shed go with him
willingly. He has an alibi, however, and I didnt really get a feeling that
there was anything amiss in the home situation. But what if his mates are
involved? Six, shes been abducted by a stranger or strangers. She might be
found alive, or dead, or never found. For years now there have been rumours of
a paedophile ring on the Peninsula.

Rumours, thats all they are, said
van Alphen.

Ellen ignored him. Trace,
interview, eliminate, she said. Thats what police work boils down to in
cases like this. Friends, family, neighbours, teachers, everybody. But we dont
have a lot of time. According to statistics, most kidnapped or abducted children
are killed in the first twenty-four hours. If a paedophile ring is involved,
theyll abuse her for a few days and then kill her. We cant sit around
worrying about our shift entitlements, childcare arrangements or overtime. This
is too important for that. She could be in a car or house on the other side of
the country by now This is the worst kind of case: no body, no obvious crime
scene, and no clear place to start.

She hoped she wasnt communicating
her performance anxieties and doubts to the room. Of course she wasnt Challis,
but how would Challis handle this case? Would he move swiftly, too, and hang
the criticisms? She visualised the way he liked to stand at briefings, either
propping up a wall, pacing at the head of the long table or tapping wall maps
or displays of surveillance and arrest photographs. There were always coffee
cups and plates of scones and apricot Danish on the table, but her table was
bare, apart from reams of paper. She didnt want him to hear whispers about
her. She didnt want the officers now watching her expressionlessly to smirk,
roll their eyes, look bored or later go bolshie on her because they didnt
think she was up to the job.

Friday, early evening. Theyd all
rather be at home. She glanced out of the window at the darkening night. She
could see flags and streamers curling lazily outside, lit by the streetlights,
advertising the Waterloo Show. A perfect weekend coming up.

The mother and the boyfriend told
you shes run away before? van Alphen asked.

Yes.

Then shes run away again.

Leaving her favourite toy behind?

He shrugged as if the whole thing
was beneath him.

Kees, Ellen said exasperatedly, tell
us what you really think.

He pushed away the ruins of his cup
and looked at her finally. She has a history of running away, right? And shes
a kidkids have short attention spans. She dropped her stupid toy and forgot
about it. As for running away, maybe shes reacting to tensions at home; maybe
shes trying to throw a scare into her mother. Note she didnt leave the bike
behind, a bikes too precious for that. Shell turn up. They always do.

Weve tried all of her friends,
Ellen said, feeling defensive.

Yeah, but have you tried her
enemies?
Her friends are bound to lie, to protect her.

And her enemies are bound to tell
us the truth? said Ellen, cocking her head at him, even though she knew his
idea was sound: an enemy will lie to hurt, just as a friend will lie to
protect, but an enemy might also reveal those things a friend will want to
concealnot that she thought little girls of that age had confirmed enemies.

Van Alphen shrugged. Its just a
thought, he said, meaning that she hadnt covered all of the bases yet.

Prints on the Tamagotchi? Scobie
asked.

Ellen turned to him with relief. Too
soon. Its being tested.

They watched her, and waited. Ive
had a few hundred flyers printed, she said, her voice sharp. Van, Id like
you to muster up some uniforms and start distributing them tonight and
tomorrow, all around town, especially along her bike route and at the
showgrounds. I want a thorough canvass: flyers in shop windows, on bus shelters
and light poles, etcetera, a saturation doorknock. The main Melbourne
newspapers will run stories tomorrow, and TV and radio this evening. But we do
not make public anything about an abduction or a paedophile ring. Its too
alarmist. Its also too soon.

Senior Sergeant Kellock hadnt said
a word as yet. Hed sat there, a massive, brooding presence, signifying
disapproval, as though shed gone too far. She sighed inwardly. Senior
Sergeant?

He stirred, his huge head lifting
and turning to take in Ellen, the room and the men and women around him. This
is a kid, just remember that, he growled, and Ellen could have embraced him.

Thats what she wanted them all to
remember. This was a kid. A kid was missing. Scobie, you can be incident room
manager. If this gets any bigger well want data inputters, a receiver and an
analyst, so plenty of computers and phones, please.

Okay.

The briefing had taken ninety
minutes. Before Ellen could wrap it up, her mobile phone rang. She took the
call, tried not to show how thoroughly it disturbed her, and crossed to the TV
set in the corner. Behold, she said sourly, the mother and the boyfriend.

Evening Update, Channel 5, five
days a week from 7.30 until 8 pm. As Ellen watched, it occurred to her that
grief, stress and anxiety have many faces: numb, teary, expressionless,
defeated. But sometimesawfullygrief wears a smiling face. The voices coming
from the TV were a little hoarse and broken, but Katies mother and her
boyfriend were smiling for the cameras.

The segment was live, the reporter
in Donnas sitting room. The police fear that little Katies been abducted,
he said. Have you a message for her abductors?

We hope youll return Katie to us
unharmed, said Justin Pedder, showing his teeth. Reptilian teeth, thought Pam.

Ellen Destry whirled around. I
never said a word to those two idiots about abduction. How did the media get
onto this?

They looked at her blankly.

If I find that anyone in this
investigation has been leaking information, Ill come down on them like a ton
of bricks. Understood?

Sarge.

Ellen scowled and turned to the TV
again, where the question of victims-of-crime compensation was being raised. Yes,
we think we should be compensated for our suffering, Pedder was saying.

How do you put a dollar amount on
that? the reporter asked rhetorically.

Katie is priceless to us.

The reporter nodded, full of
feeling, and said gravely, Tell us how youre feeling right now.

Like I want to rip your wig off,
snarled Ellen.

We feel just devastated, said
Katie Blaskos mother.

Afraid?

Yes.

Gently now: You fear the worst?

Yes, the mother and the boyfriend
said with their blinding smiles.

How would you deal with the monster
or monsters who have taken little Katie from you?

Justin Pedder showed his teeth and
gums and mimed hanging from a tree.

Wheres the public interest in
this? Kellock demanded.

Ellen was angry, but a part of her
was also thinking that the public interest would quickly move on, leaving
behind Justin Pedder and Donna Blasko, who surely felt ravaged to the core,
even if they hadnt the means to express it.

* * * *

She
closed the briefing and returned to the paperwork in her office. Thirty minutes
later, she had an inkling of what Challis often went through.

I understand we have an abduction,
Sergeant, said Superintendent McQuarrie from her doorway.

Sir, I

I have that on good authority, of
course. The media, no less.

Sir, someone must have

This station has always leaked like
a sieve, McQuarrie said.

He began strutting back and forth
before her desk. She didnt know what the protocol was. Should she come out
from behind the desk? Should she be standing while he bawled her out? She
decided to stand. That made her taller than McQuarrie, who was slight, dapper,
a bloodless little man. Was it correct protocol to be taller than your boss?

He scowled at her resentfully. Ive
called a press conference. What do you suggest I tell them? That Evening
Update got it wrong?

Ellen sat again. Headlights
flickered outside. Waterloo was bopping tonight. She could see all the way down
High Street to the waterfront and the showgrounds, the Ferris wheel and the
wilder rides lit up like Christmas trees. Its beginning to look like an
abduction, sir.

Beginning to look like, said
McQuarrie flatly.

A snide little turd. She wondered
what he was overcompensating for. His size? His total lack of coppers
instincts? His years of administering rather than policing? The fact that his
Rotary pals were company CEOs while his occupation was largely blue collar? She
badly needed to go home, pour a gin-and-tonic, soak in a bath.

I realise were talking about a
small child, for Gods sake, but its surely too soon to state categorically
that it is an abduction, and too soon for teary parents to be making a public
appeal. Do you have compelling evidence one way or the other?

No, sir.

Then you see my dilemma.

Sir.

Are you up to this, Ellen?

So now she was Ellen, his best pal?
What a prick. I am, sir.

Because Inspector Challis is only a
phone call and a plane ride away.

Ellen clenched and felt herself
blush, the heat and the colour coming from shame, defiance and anger. When she
found her voice she said, That wont be necessary, sir.

Glad to hear it, her boss said,
turning briskly and striding out of the station to address the cameras. He
loved the cameras and believed sincerely that they loved him.

Ellen stared gloomily at the wall.
Presently she got a call from a technician at ForenZics. His name was Riggs;
the voice was the kind that sniffed disapprovingly. That toy you sent us. We
found prints and partials from the child and the mother, no one else.

Ellen sighed. Thank you.

Riggs said, Hours. The state lab
sometimes takes
days
to furnish results.

Was he after praise? Thank you.

At your service, Riggs said,
closing the connection with a brisk click.

Ellen stared at the wall again, then
picked up her desk phone and dialled.

Fielding occasional calls from
journalists, and referring them to the media office, she worked until 10 pm.
Without the benefit of daylight or fresh leads, there was no point in hanging
on later than that. Shed be of more use to Katie Blasko tomorrow morning, with
a clear head, and so she clattered swiftly down the stairs and out into the car
park at the rear of the police station. More than once on the drive along the
moonlit back roads did she think about turning back and doing an all-nighter at
the station. She wanted to be in her office, not in Hal Challiss unfamiliar
bath, kitchen or bed, when the body was found.

For she was sure thered be a body,
crammed into a culvert somewhere, or tossed onto waste ground. Katie Blasko
would be torn and bruised, internally and externally. Ligature marks on her
wrists and ankles, maybe her neck. Things organic and inorganic would have been
inserted into her. Shed have been photographed and videoed by the creep or
creeps who abducted her, the images transferred onto compact disc and sold
overseas or stored on computers and e-mailed all over the world, catering to a
range of perverts: those who liked pre-pubescent girls posed in their
cottontails, those with rape and incest fantasies, sodomites, all the way up to
those who got a kick out of killing children or seeing it done.

* * * *

Challiss
house was dark, her footsteps a lonely series of slaps on his floorboards. It
was a house to her, not a home. Without Challis there, it was just a house shed
be living in for the next few weeks. None of the angles were friendly, even
with all of the lights on.

Shed collected Challiss mail and
rolled copy of the
Age
from the letterbox at the foot of his driveway.
Now she poured herself a gin-and-tonic and tried to free
the Age
of the
plastic film that wrapped it, but couldnt find the join. Frustrated, she got
one of Challiss kitchen knives and cut and sawed at the plastic, tearing the
paper here and there. She could cry.