The Lost Man(79)

Nathan sat down in the spare office chair and reached for the day planner on the desk. He flicked to the section Ilse had pointed out to him, and began to read the mustering notes. They were detailed, laying out what a change in the schedule would involve. The pros and cons, risks and rewards. He read it through, twice, then leaned back, thinking. Bub and Cameron had both been right, in their own ways. It was a good plan, but there were snags that needed to be ironed out before anything should happen. Just because Bub was the only one left to argue his case didn’t mean Cam hadn’t had a point.

Nathan started to close the diary, then stopped. Idly, he flipped the pages to the present week. There was almost nothing listed. The activity had been halted by a combination of Christmas and Cameron’s death. The days were mostly empty and whatever was written there looked as though it had been added some weeks earlier.

He turned back another page, to the day Cameron had gone missing. There were quite a few items written down, listed in Ilse’s handwriting. Reminders of several phone calls to be made, and a handful of invoices to chase before the end of the year. The weeks before showed more of the same. The day Ilse’s husband had died looked to have been just another busy day for her in a busy six months.

He turned back and forth a few more pages. Everything she had written down appeared to be fairly standard stuff. He made similar phone calls and orders himself, he just didn’t record them as efficiently. Ilse may not have asked for this, Nathan thought, and Bub may not like it, but she would probably be pretty good at running this place if she had to. Now she did have to, he supposed. He was about to close the book again when something at the bottom of a page caught his eye.

In the corner was a single tick with a time written next to it. Nathan frowned and turned back a few pages, then a few more. The same mark had been made every day for the whole year as far as he could see. There was no other information, just the checkmark and the numbers. The time recorded varied over two hours, coming in anywhere between 7 pm and 9 pm. Nathan stared at it. Somewhere, deep inside, he felt a stirring of recognition.

He was still trying to work it out when he heard a noise outside. He looked up as Ilse came through the door, Duffy at her feet. She jumped when she saw him.

‘My God.’ She put a hand to her chest. ‘You scared me.’

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I was –’ He held up the planner.

‘Oh, right. Fine.’ She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, her face flushed.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s my husband’s funeral,’ she snapped.

Nathan blinked. He’d never heard that tone from her before. ‘What else?’

Ilse paced across the room, dropping into the chair behind her desk. ‘How long have you been hiding in here?’

‘Not that long.’

She nodded. ‘It’s strange out there, isn’t it? Listening to all those people go on about what a great guy Cameron was and how much they’ll miss him.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t recognise some of them, and a lot of the others I haven’t seen in years. They never come around, they never call. They barely knew him, really.’

‘No. I suppose not.’

Duffy, who had been sniffing around the desk, ran over to Nathan and he bent down to her. He could feel Ilse’s eyes on him. He still felt a touch light-headed and dehydrated. How many beers had he had? Not many, but more than he felt comfortable having when he was alone with Ilse.

‘Sorry.’ He started to stand. ‘I’ll get out of your way.’

‘Yeah. That sounds about right.’

The sharp edge in her tone made him stop for a second time. He stared at her and she stared back.

‘Go on, then. Don’t let me keep you.’ She jerked her head towards the door. ‘You must have been here with me for – what? – two whole minutes already? Well past your normal cue to leave.’

Nathan stood there. ‘Do you want me to stay?’ he said, finally.

He waited. Ilse said nothing for a long time. At last she took a breath.

‘I was talking to Steve. About Cameron and –’ She dropped her eyes. ‘And about Jenna.’

‘Did he say something that upset you?’

Ilse made a bitter noise. ‘No. The opposite, actually. He didn’t say anything. I wanted to know what he thought happened back then, but he wouldn’t tell me anything.’ She looked at Nathan now. ‘You said he took her seriously. So why is he being so secretive now?’

‘Well, you said it.’ Nathan shrugged. ‘It’s your husband’s funeral. Maybe he’s trying to protect you.’

‘Me?’ The flush in her face grew angrier. ‘It’s not about protecting me. It’s about Cameron. It always is. He’s dead and we’re all still dancing around him. Don’t touch his painting. Don’t do Bub’s plan. Don’t talk about –’ She stopped. ‘I’m sorry. I’m finding today very hard.’

‘I know. It’s all been hard.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Listen, ignore me. Of course you can leave if you want.’

‘Ilse, it’s not –’

‘No, I know. I get it. It’s fine.’ She waved a hand. ‘Anyway, you probably should be out there. It’s a good time to let people see you.’