We were about a hundred metres off the ground, a couple of pitches up Frenchmans Cap, and gravity yawed at me through the glass balcony front. We were in a canyon of towers, between which we could make out a section of the Harbour Bridge, the lights of a harbour ferry. These peaks glittered with light, and were inhabited not by grey ternlets but by migrating tourists and mum-and-dad investors. Damien leaned on the rail and waved at another couple on a balcony facing us across the dark void. They waved back.
‘How was Suzi?’ he asked.
‘About as expected, I guess. Don’t worry, I behaved.’
He smiled, then reached into his pocket for his wallet, and plucked out a business card, which he handed across to me. ‘Friend of mine,’ he said. ‘Merchant bank.’ He grinned. ‘Thought that would appeal to you. Looking for bright guys like you. If you’re interested, give him a ring. He’s a good bloke. You’ll like him.’
I tapped the card with a finger. ‘Hm, thanks, Damien.’ I pocketed it and said, ‘I met an old girlfriend of yours the other day.’
‘Really? Who was that?’
‘Sophie Kalajzich.’
He couldn’t place her at first, then I saw it register. ‘You saw Sophie Kalajzich?’
‘Yep. She’s a model now, remembers you fondly-actually asked me to give you her number, but I guess you won’t be needing that.’
He studied me carefully. ‘Why did you want to speak to her?’
‘I had a bit of a brainstorm, mad idea probably. Looking back over the old newspaper cuttings about Luce’s accident, I came across a report that one of those yachts that called in to Lord Howe while you were there had been involved in smuggling rare birds’ eggs.’
His face froze for a brief moment, then he very slowly shook his head. ‘Birds’ eggs.’
‘Yes. Quite a coincidence, I thought. So I wondered if someone on the island had been helping this smuggler, and I thought about the Kelsos, who seemed to be involved in everything. Sophie worked for them for six months, so I thought she might have an idea.’
‘And did she?’
‘No.’
Damien just stared at me for a bit, then said, ‘Josh, you’ve obviously got too much time on your hands. You need something to occupy your mind again.’
I grinned. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’
And he probably was, but I couldn’t get this odd coincidence out of my mind, and the following day I decided there was only one sensible way to move forward. I rang Kings Cross police station, and eventually got put through to Glenn Maddox, now a detective sergeant. I could tell he was intrigued when I introduced myself, and he suggested we meet in a cafe in Victoria Road, not far away. I recognised him from a photo in the press clippings Anna had copied for me. He was short and wiry, aged about fifty, with the air of someone who’d seen everything but was still game for one or two more rounds. His face was lined, with the trace of a scar on his left cheek, eyes steady, grizzled hair going grey around the ears, and his crumpled suit looked as if it had spent too long slouched in courtrooms and seedy bars. It had a bulge under the left arm that I guessed was his gun. He was in fact exactly how I might have imagined an experienced cop from Homicide to be.
We shook hands and he said, ‘So, you’re the boyfriend.’
‘That’s right. I just got back, trying to catch up, and I only just learned that you tried to contact me at the time. I’m afraid my father had the wrong address for me in London.’
‘Well, it didn’t seem relevant to my inquiries. Should it have been?’
‘No.’
‘So how can I help you?’
‘A friend of mine had collected newspaper clippings about the accident, and when I was reading them I happened to notice another item on one of the pages.’ I took my photocopy of the article from my bag and showed it to him.
He read it. ‘So?’
‘Well …’ I was beginning to feel a bit stupid, playing the amateur sleuth, doing exactly what I’d accused Anna of. ‘Luce and the others were studying rare birds and their eggs on Lord Howe, and this boat had just returned from there. It seemed a pretty big coincidence. I wondered if Luce might have … got wind of what they were doing.’
‘And the smugglers decided to shut her up by pushing her off the cliff?’ The deadpan way he said it made the notion sound all the more ludicrous, an episode from some adventure of the Famous Five.
‘Something like that.’
He sipped his cappuccino, getting chocolate foam on his upper lip. He licked it, then said, ‘Yes, I noticed that report too. The boat had been at Lord Howe when Lucy was there, and it’s even possible she met them. Unfortunately the eggs that were found on board didn’t come from there-they were endangered cockatoo eggs, Major Mitchell and gang-gang cockatoos that aren’t found on Lord Howe Island. They’d been bought from a dealer in Sydney by an American crew member on board the yacht. The tip-off probably came from a rival dealer. The American was fined twenty thousand dollars, the dealer got three months.’
‘Oh.’ At least I didn’t feel quite so stupid, seeing he’d also been interested enough to investigate. ‘So there was no connection to Luce’s disappearance?’
‘Not that I could see. You’re trying to find some other explanation for the accident?’
‘Just trying to come to terms with it, I guess.’
‘Is that a copy of my report to the coroner in your bag, by any chance?’
I coloured. ‘Yes, it is actually.’
‘Sounds like you’re taking this pretty seriously. Let me guess, you’re even wondering if she isn’t dead at all, that maybe the yachties took her off the island somehow and spirited her away.’
I gaped at him. ‘How did you know that?’ It was barely more than a fantasy that I’d allowed to take shape somewhere at the back of my mind, creeping out in the bleakest hours of the dark night to tantalise and comfort me.
‘You said just now “Luce’s disappearance”, not her death.’
‘Did I?’ Just like Anna.
‘Missing persons are like that. No body, no way to be absolutely certain what happened. People hang on to hope long after I know there is none. And you’re feeling guilty, right? You weren’t there. You never said goodbye.’
‘Yes, yes.’ Just like Mum, I thought. One day I left her sleeping in the hospital bed, and the next she wasn’t there any more. She’d vanished. And I couldn’t even cry properly because all I felt was bitter guilt. I should have done more. I could have been a better son for her.
‘Believe me, I’ve seen every kind of pain and grief. I’ve experienced a good many of them myself, too. And I know that there’s only one person who can help you.’
‘Really? Who’s that?’ I thought he was going to recommend a psychiatrist or a private detective or something.
He held me with that steady gaze and said, ‘The Lord Jesus Christ.’
‘Oh …’ I was stunned into silence for a moment, then muttered, ‘Um, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that.’
‘Well, when you are, you contact me.’ He took a card from his pocket and passed it to me. There was a man’s name and phone number beside a cross. ‘I’ll introduce you to this man, or you can get in touch with him direct. He will lead you to the Lord, and you won’t look back. Trust me, I know.’
I had been about to tell him about Owen’s confession to Anna, but now I stared dumbly at the card and said nothing.
‘And I’ll give you something else to put in that bag of yours, son. Something that’ll help you a lot more than my report to the coroner.’ He reached into his jacket, to the bulge that I’d noticed, and drew out not his service Glock but a copy of the New Testament, which he handed to me.
‘Thank you,’ I muttered, not quite sure what to do, but his phone rang and he listened for a moment, then got to his feet.
‘I have to go now, but you remember-get in touch with me any time.’
I shook his hand, and then on impulse added, ‘I’m thinking of going to Lord Howe for a visit.’
He stared at me, still gripping my hand, then said, ‘Pay your last respects, yes, maybe not a bad idea. Say hello from me to the young copper over there if you see him, Grant Campbell.’