Stevie glanced toward the lake and hesitated, not sure if she should intrude upon Stella’s solitude. No, she’d leave her alone for a bit longer, she decided. The picture of Bianca from Kusak’s computer could wait. She cocked her head to the door of the flat. ‘I need to have another look in Bianca’s room, do you mind...’ Her words trailed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the vaguely familiar shape of a stocky man wearing a checked shirt and jeans, swaggering towards Stella on the bench. Even from this distance, she could see the woman stiffen as he drew near.
‘Any idea who that is? I’m sure I’ve seen him before...’ Stevie spoke her thoughts aloud, making a hesitant move toward the stairwell. ‘I might just...’
‘I dunno,’ Gail shrugged, then did a double take and Stevie saw why. The man was leaning towards Stella now, one hand on the back of the bench. Stella cringed and shook her head, her panic obvious even from where they stood on the balcony.
Gail pushed past Stevie and stormed towards the steps. ‘The bloody creep, as if she hasn’t been through enough...’
‘Leave this to me,’ Stevie put a hand on her arm to hold her back.
Gail flicked the hand off, voice rising as she looked helplessly toward the park. ‘Look, he’s grabbing her!’
‘Stay there!’
Stevie hurtled down the concrete steps two at a time, four when she jumped the landings. She swung out from the stairwell at ground level, sprinting across the weedy verge, across the road and into the park.
The man saw her coming. He dropped Stella’s arm and took off at a run towards a car parked on the perimeter road. Stevie gave chase, but he had reached the car and was pulling out when she was still metres away. Hands on hips and panting, she watched him move into the traffic and splutter away. She was too far away to catch the number plate, but she caught the make. And she’d seen the white Ford Escort before, on the night she and Monty had brought Stella the bad news. It had been parked in the street outside Stella’s flat.
When she reached the bench, Stella was leaning forward, elbows on knees, as if fighting back nausea. Stevie sank down next to her, still puffing, and patted Stella on the back. ‘Are you okay?’
Stella straightened, wiped her eyes. ‘I think so. Thanks for that.’
‘That wasn’t Bob, was it, Bob of the pestering phone call from the other night?’ And the man who almost pushed me down the stairs, she added to herself.
Stella shook her head and spoke quickly, ‘No, I’ve never seen him before.’
Stevie scrutinised her for a moment in silence. When Stella continued to avoid eye contact she said, ‘Stella, are you sure...’
‘Of course I’m sure, he was just some creep, that’s all.’
‘What did he want?’
Stella hesitated. ‘Money.’ She looked down and began pulling at a loose thread from the hem of her T-shirt. ‘He was pissed off was all. When he saw I didn’t have a bag he told me to turn out my pockets. I said no and that’s when he grabbed me. I’m okay, don’t worry.’ Her gaze strayed across the lake to where a pair of black swans were gliding and spoke as if from the distance of a dream. ‘Bianca hated those swans. One pecked her hand when she was feeding it some stale bread. I told her it was just the bird’s nature, that it didn’t make it a bad bird. The man who killed Bianca was bad though, he must have been. He was bad to the bone to do what he done.’
‘You need a cup of tea. Or something stronger.’ Stevie looked up to see Gail watching them from the balcony and gave her a reassuring wave. ‘Come on, Stella, let’s go home.’
‘You are absolutely certain you haven’t seen that man before?’ Stevie asked again as they sat on the squeaking couch in Stella’s lounge room. She wondered why Stella would lie to her. She was almost certain the man in the park was the same man who’d bumped into her on the stairwell the other night. She recalled the hoppy reek as he’d barged past and associated it with the beer can she’d seen lying on Stella’s coffee table.
Stella waved her hand impatiently. She seemed tired out. ‘Positive, I told you that. Can we just forget it?’
‘You’ll let me know if you do see him again?’ Stevie asked, allowing just the right amount of suspicion to shade her words. This wasn’t the right time or place to push, but she hoped her tone of voice was enough to let Stella know this was only a temporary reprieve.
‘Yes, of course I’ll tell you if I see him again.’ Stella reached for her cigarettes and offered Stevie one. Stevie shook her head; after the sprint her lungs still felt filled with molten lead. It must be time for another go at quitting.
‘You wanted to talk to me about something?’ Stella said.
‘I wanted another look in Bianca’s room to see if there’s anything I missed the first time around.’
‘The crime’s solved, they told me the guy’s dead, why bother?’ Stella replied in a voice laced with despair. ‘Why bother about the man at the lake? Why bother about anything now?’
‘Do you want some lunch?’ Gail called from the kitchen. It was a timely interruption to Stella’s rising hysteria.
Stella shook her head. Stevie reached into her bag, producing the print Clarissa had extracted from Kusak’s computer, a head and shoulder shot of a slightly younger, slightly slimmer Bianca. Her bare shoulders were hunched and swathed in a ribbon of floating muslin and the painted lips did nothing to disguise the tension of a tight little smile. While it could hardly be considered pornography, the photo was a tasteless attempt at turning a child into a sexualised, alluring adult. The look on the face alone would have screamed out vulnerability to any predator with the wiring to receive it.
Miro Kusak.
Stella balled her fist and bit into her wrist. Shuddered. ‘Oh, that, I’d forgotten about that.’
‘Where was it taken?’ Stevie asked.
‘Bianca was desperate to do some modelling. I let her audition for a modelling agency a year or so ago, had seven hundred bucks worth of photos taken. But she was turned down, told to come back when she’d lost some weight.’ Stella’s face crumpled and her voice broke. ‘She was nine years old and that stuck up bitch told her to lose some weight—can you imagine what that can do to a young girl? She wasn’t fat at all, just a bit of puppy fat, but after that she felt like a real freak.’
Yes, Stevie could imagine what something like that could do to a child and felt the rage flare. She wondered what had induced Stella to let Bianca go to a photo shoot in the first place and put it down to mother’s guilt again. Let the kid do more or less what she wants to make up for all the hours she’d been left alone.
The other pictures on Mason’s computer may have come from the same modelling school, downloaded by someone with access to the collection—the photographer perhaps? It fitted with Clarissa’s theory anyway. The modelling agency was the key, she was sure of it.
‘Can you remember the name of the agency?’ Stevie asked, sitting on the edge of her seat, trying her best to make the question sound routine. She crossed her fingers, hoping she’d get the information she wanted without having to confuse Stella with too many questions.
Stella shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It must’ve gone in one ear and out the other.’
‘It’s really important that you try to remember, Stella. I think the man who killed Bianca might have had access to the agency’s files. The photo we found on Kusak’s computer came with personal details of Bianca, including her email address. We think these files may have been distributed to a paedophile ring operating around Perth, which in turn sold them to private individuals. They’ve sold other pictures too, meaning that other children might be in danger. Please, Stella, try and remember.’