The Survivors(90)

Kieran stared at her, the possibilities lining up like cogs on a wheel. Mia was right. If Pendlebury knew, someone else knew, too.

‘Who?’ He felt deep down he had the answer to this but his head was spinning too fast to focus.

But Mia was already nodding.

‘Well, it’s like Pendlebury told us herself, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘If we have any questions about this, we know where the police station is.’

Sergeant Chris Renn was dragging an empty filing cabinet outside when Kieran and Mia walked up to the station.

Kieran held the glass door open for him as Renn edged the cabinet out.

‘Thanks,’ Renn grunted. A corner caught on the door hinges and he gave it a whack to wrench it free. He picked the cabinet up without any trouble and slid it in against the brick wall, next to four others. ‘Someone from the school’s coming to collect them this afternoon.’

The sergeant dug a tissue out of his pocket and wiped the shine from his forehead.

‘What can I do for you two?’ He glanced down at the pram. ‘Three.’

‘Why were Finn and Toby out on the water that day?’ Kieran said, and he sensed rather than saw Mia roll her eyes. They had rehearsed this on the way down, but now he was here the subtleties had deserted him.

Renn didn’t ask what Kieran meant. He looked at them both for a long minute, then turned back to the station. He straightened one of the filing cabinets, and reached for the glass door.

‘Come in.’

The station felt even emptier than last time as they followed Renn through. The remaining desks were still cluttered and Kieran saw one of the uniformed officers from the community meeting nudging someone’s laptop precariously close to the edge to make space for his own. He stopped when he saw Kieran watching him. The map of Evelyn Bay had fallen down and stood on the corridor floor, propped up against the wall, its laminated corners curling inwards.

Renn showed Kieran and Mia into the same office as before. There was only one chair in front of the battered desk now, and they waited while he fetched another. When he came back, he put his hand over a small pile of photos stacked by the computer and turned them facedown. Pictures of Bronte supplied by her parents, Kieran realised belatedly.

‘Right, then,’ Renn said when they were all settled. ‘What’s all this about?’

‘Finn and Toby. On the day of the storm.’ Kieran crossed his arms over his chest and tucked in his hands to stop them shaking. ‘They were already out in the Nautilus Black before the call came in to say I was in trouble.’

Renn looked slowly from Kieran to Mia. ‘Who’ve you been chatting to? George Barlin?’

They shook their heads and Kieran saw a shadow of surprise cross Renn’s face. Pendlebury, then, Kieran could almost see him thinking. Whatever Renn made of that, he masked it well. He was such a far cry from the flushed constable who had followed Sergeant Mallott around town, jumping in fear and obedience at his every word. It was hard to believe he was the same man.

This Renn, older and in the boss’s seat now, squared his keyboard against the edge of his desk, buying himself a moment.

‘So what are you getting at, Kieran, mate?’ he said.

‘Finn and Toby didn’t go out on the water for me. The timing doesn’t work.’

A statement, not a question. Kieran braced himself for a straight denial, but Renn held his gaze.

‘Well, I’d have to double-check the records –’ Renn’s tone was measured, but Kieran saw a flicker in the sergeant’s face. It was as good as a confirmation.

Mia had caught it too. ‘I don’t think you need to check anything, Chris. If that’s how it happened, you would know.’

‘Okay,’ Renn said, still calm. ‘Well, if that’s the case, then what exactly is it you want from me?’

‘Why did you bury that?’ Kieran leaned in. ‘How about we start right there?’

‘Me?’ Renn stiffened a little at that. ‘Mate, I wasn’t in charge back then.’

‘Sergeant Mallott, then. And that’s a bullshit excuse. You were both on duty. Whatever went on in the storm, you’d both know about it. You two were the ones who dealt with everything.’

‘Yeah,’ Renn said. He sat back in his chair so heavily the wheels squeaked. He sounded suddenly very tired. ‘We did, didn’t we? Every single thing that happened in that storm. He and I had to deal with it.’

‘So you did know, then? And what? Never mentioned it?’

There was a silence. Kieran braced himself for the order to leave but it didn’t come. The muted rattle of a photocopier firing up floated in from the hallway.

‘What happened to Bronte has been really hard.’

Kieran, who had been about to launch in again, stopped in surprise at his words. Renn turned over the stack of photos on his desk. The dead woman smiled out and his face tightened.

‘It’s been hard for everyone, I know that. But in all my years in this job, I never thought I’d see something like this happen here. I keep thinking about what I’ve done – or haven’t done, maybe? – for that to happen on my watch. When did Evelyn Bay become a place where a girl who comes for summer work ends up dead?’ Renn turned the photos facedown again and Bronte disappeared once more. ‘I want it cleared up. I had her mum and dad in here again earlier and I want to be able to give them an answer. I can’t leave here with this on my conscience, but they won’t keep the station open indefinitely –’