He coughs again. ‘One other thing. Our victim was pregnant at the time of her death. Approximately ten weeks along, according to Anna. We have no idea whether it’s relevant to our case or not but keep it in mind. And for the love of god, keep that information to yourselves.’ He looks around the room in what I assume is an attempt to appear stern. ‘Woodstock and McKinnon are leading. We’ve got you lot for at least a week, maybe more, but let’s plan not to need it. Now go. And no overtime. I mean it.’
He exits the room, stumbling on a bin and flailing into the wall. His muttered swearing fades as he walks towards his office. There’s a smattering of laughter and at least one ‘dickhead’ whispered.
I make my way to the front of the room with Felix close behind.
‘Right, guys, this is how the next couple of days look.’ My voice is strong and clear. Matthews rolls his eyes and I give him a swift glare. ‘We meet every morning at eight and again at three to check in. If you can’t make it, you have a good reason and you ring in your progress to myself or McKinnon—no excuses. One of us will always attend.’
There’s nodding and a few of the guys get out their phones to log the appointments in.
‘We’ll review the hotline calls at every checkin, and follow up anything that seems legit. We’ve done the basics but there’s a lot to be getting on with. The primary search is complete. We’re not clear about her exact movements on Friday but we know she was at the school in the evening no later than seven. She was there for a play—kids from the school were performing a version of Romeo and Juliet. Our victim wrote and directed it, and apparently it was very impressive. And a big deal for the school. We know there were issues in getting it happening, so maybe she put quite a few noses out of joint along the way. We’re looking into everything right now so keep your ears open about any tension.
‘Sonny Lake is not a direct route to her home, so there was no obvious reason for her to be at the lake after the play. Our guess is that she was either meeting someone there, or she was lured there by someone she trusted. It’s possible that someone physically forced her there but that seems unlikely based on the post-mortem. Plus, someone would have noticed if she was grabbed at the school.’
Sets of alert, shining eyes flick between me and the photos of Rosalind. I think of how much more beautiful she was than I am and wonder whether they are all thinking the same.
‘We’ve only spoken to the immediate family so far. McKinnon and I will be heading to the school shortly to cover off the principal, colleagues and hopefully some students. I want you guys on this side of the room—’ I gesture to my right ‘—to begin working through the audience from Friday night. Start with the students. Tread carefully with minors. I want parental consent for any formal questioning if they’re under eighteen. You know the drill, and if you don’t, then get up to speed. Offer counselling whenever you think it’s necessary.’
I pause, feeling the potent charge of determination in the room crackling over the group. I can smell the raw desire to track down the person who has taken it upon themselves to disrupt the natural world order.
‘Where possible, refer any kids to Matthews and Dixon. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help.’ I smile sweetly at Matthews, who is industriously picking at his teeth with his fingernail and ignoring me.
Felix steps forward. ‘Work smart. Batch trips together so you don’t waste time in the car.’
I nod. ‘Okay. So before Thursday we want to have done all the main ones: friends, exes, colleagues, students, extended family, doctors and anyone who comes forward with a statement. We need to cover off the guy who found her and anyone who saw her last week and can vouch for her state of mind.
‘We need to pull any CCTV footage we can access, and I want every record we can get our hands on. We’ve made a start but we want everything. Dental, medical, psychological, phone, internet, financials, spiritual, whatever.’
One of the uniforms raises his hand slightly. ‘What are you guys thinking at this stage? Random or personal?’
‘Personal,’ say Felix and I in unison. We glance at each other and then quickly look away. Matthews smirks.
‘But nothing is really clear yet,’ says Felix, more quietly. ‘So let’s just get going.’
I’m not ashamed to say that I went after Stacy. It was cruel, but I figured she knew stuff about Robbie that could help me find an angle. She had the facts, as Jonesy had put it. In between my shifts and navigating my new relationship with Scott, I formed a plan. I could tell that Stacy was not overly intelligent, but she was shrewd, and while life with Robbie was originally exciting it had probably now reached a point where she felt trapped and scared; addicted to him, but not happily.
One Saturday morning, I followed her to work at Woody’s, a rundown-looking roadhouse between Smithson and Mt Lyall. I went inside and took a seat by the window, ordering a coffee which, when it came, tasted so much like dish-washing detergent that I could only manage a few sips.
‘Stacy,’ I said, when she came to check if I wanted anything else. In her black skinny jeans and tight black t-shirt, she managed to convey sex and fear at the same time.
She looked up at me, surprised. Light purplish crescents underlined her eyes.
‘Yeah?’ Her voice was soft in the middle and sharp around the edges, like a home-cooked pie.
‘Tell me about Warren Robbie.’
‘What?’ Her eyes shifted back and forth in quick little circuits.
‘Does he hurt you?’
‘What?’ Her voice turned to a hiss and she squinted at me.
‘Does your boyfriend hurt you?’
‘Who are you?’
She didn’t remember me from the tail-light incident. ‘I’m a cop. And I know your boyfriend is bad news and I think you know he is too.’
She scoffed at me and rolled her eyes, more confident now. ‘He might be bad news but he’s not scared of cops; he’s not scared of anyone.’
‘Are you scared of him?’
She didn’t answer me, just sort of dug her heel into the floor and rolled her eyes again.
‘I think you want a better life. You deserve to be treated better. He gets all this money by doing bad things, right? But you don’t see any of it, do you?’
Her jaw remained hard, muscles working furiously, grinding her teeth together.
‘What next? You end up having kids with this guy?’
Stacy spun around sharply and walked off towards the kitchen, the end of her plait so fine that the elastic band looked huge around the feeble strands of hair.
Stacy came to the station the next day asking for a ‘girl cop with light brown hair’.
I was easy to find.
‘Walk?’ I suggested.
She nodded. Her hands scrambled together as if she were putting on hand cream. ‘He’s been getting worse lately.’
I led her towards the skate park. There, I gestured for her to stand against the concrete wall and I did the same. ‘Worse how?’
‘Just worse.’ She bit her lip. ‘Angrier, I guess. He gets so mad sometimes.’
‘Was it his idea to report the car stolen?’ I said it calmly, as if I knew that it hadn’t been taken.
‘Yeah.’ She picked at a thread coming loose from her sleeve. ‘His cousin took it to the city and sold it. You know, win-win.’ She wiped her fist along her nostrils. ‘He gets bored and wants to do crazy things. Last night he woke me up to drive him out to Dwyer’s paddock so he could shoot some of the cows.’