“No idea.”
Ellie stared at him. “You’re head of security.”
“I’m not Jack’s bloody keeper.” Paul took the newspaper from Ellie and threw it onto the floor.
The traffic on the Tullamarine Freeway parted to give the limo room and Ellie checked her watch. Just after nine. Why hadn’t Dennis called her yet? Would her own husband not be the one to break such terrible news?
“We’re going to the house.” Paul said.
“Does Meredith know what happened?”
“She doesn’t know the time of day. Look, things will be upsetting. But it is best this way.”
“What on earth do you mean, Paul. Tell me what you know. Please?” Ellie exhaled heavily and leaned back against the leather seat as exhaustion gripped her.
“Not much to tell. Jack and Dennis planned to go sailing.”
“And?”
“Jack didn’t show.”
“Then, where is he?”
Paul shrugged. “How was London?”
The limousine wound along streets in upmarket Canterbury, finally nosing through automatic gates between high stone walls.
Ellie climbed out and stretched to relieve the soreness in her legs from the long flight. Dennis’ Alfa Romeo was parked near the four-car garage. She checked her phone for the tenth time but still no message from Dad. Nor from Dennis.
Paul led the way up half a dozen steps and through the open front door into a spacious foyer. “In the sitting room.”
Off the main living area, the sitting room was dimly lit by a few lamps casting shadows onto cluttered, cheap knick-knacks lining the mantelpiece and sideboards.
Meredith Bannerman slumped on one of two leather sofas, a half empty glass of brandy dangling from her fingers. The ornaments were hers, which Ellie knew Jack couldn’t stand. He liked things of quality. There were moments Ellie wasn’t proud of when she’d wondered why Jack married Meredith, given his standards.
His back to the room, Dennis Connor stared out through the French doors. He didn’t bother turning to acknowledge the arrival of his wife, although their eyes met in the glass reflection. Ellie crossed to Meredith and kissed her offered cheek. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of alcohol emanating from her stepmother’s skin.
“Where’s Dad?”
“About time you got here.” Meredith sucked in more brandy.
Ellie addressed Dennis. “Where is he?”
“God knows.” Dennis turned around. “Or not.”
“Dennis, please—”
“Ignore Dennis. He’s licking his wounds. From being interrogated.” Meredith said.
“Who interrogated you? Why?”
Meredith began pouring another glass of brandy from a decanter on the side table, her hands shaky. “Nobody cares about the ones left behind.”
“For goodness sake, would someone please tell me what happened?”
“Perhaps I can shed some light.” Campbell Boyd, sixties, grey-haired, suited, stepped out of a dark corner.
Relief poured into Ellie and she threw her arms around her father’s oldest friend. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t be stupid, Ellie.” Dennis wandered to the sofa and took the decanter from Meredith before she spilled the contents.
Campbell frowned at Dennis.
“Come and sit. Clearly you don’t know everything.”
“I just got off a plane, Campbell. And it was a reporter who told me Dad is missing.” Ellie sank onto the other sofa. “A reporter, Dennis. Not my husband.”
“Not your husband.” Meredith mimicked. “Oh, sweetie, such true words!”
I’ve come home to a mad house.
“Campbell?”
“The police are interested in Jack’s disappearance. After they spoke to Dennis—”
“Why?”
“Effectively, he was Jack’s last known contact.”
“I wasn’t the last to see him.” Dennis collected a brandy balloon from a sideboard.
“Were you arrested?”
“Of course, he wasn’t. One needs a backbone to commit murder.” Meredith declared, as if it was something to aspire to.
“Murder?” Ellie barely heard her own voice.
Dennis grinned at Meredith. “As she drinks herself into oblivion once again.”
“Well, at least I have the courage to carry out such a deed.”
“The only courage you have comes from a bottle.” Dennis sat next to Meredith. “Silly bitch.” There was no malice in his words and they exchanged a look which Ellie didn’t understand.
“Campbell—is Dad dead? Please tell me.”
“Well, it was all a bit of a mess and—”
“For God’s sake. I’ll tell you what happened.”
All eyes turned to Dennis.
“It was two days ago. Jack was stressed after the board meeting, so asked me to go sailing. Take a breather from important decisions at work. I was on time. He never showed up. I left a couple of voicemails and figured he got busy, so went sailing alone.”
“Did you check the other boats?” Meredith said. “Perhaps he found a little sea nymph to shack up with?”
“Have another drink, Meredith.” Ellie snapped.
Campbell cleared his throat. “When he came back to shore, Dennis tried Jack’s phone again, and the house. Then called the office.”
“He wasn’t there. I swear to it, baby.” Dennis stared at Ellie, his grey eyes cold behind small round glasses. “I swear it.”
Ellie turned away. “Campbell, would you come with me to the police station? To wherever the investigation is based?”
“I’ll take you.” Paul spoke from the doorway.
“For God’s sake.” Dennis reached across Meredith for the decanter and trickled brandy into his own glass.
“Leave it until tomorrow. There’s nothing to be done so late.” Campbell picked up a briefcase. “I’ll collect you in the morning.”
“I’ll get you home.” Paul said. He came to Ellie, offering his hand. She glanced up at him, then to Dennis.
“Dennis?”
“I’ve moved out of the apartment.” He didn’t even look up.
Ignoring Paul’s hand, Ellie pushed herself to her feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Meredith directed a drunken smile at Ellie. How could she smile when her husband was missing? When nobody knew where he was?
“Getting ready for our inevitable divorce. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Dennis held his glass up like a toast. “Welcome home, baby.”
3
Fallout
Ellie wouldn’t let Paul or the driver help with the luggage. Her apartment came with a twenty-four-hour concierge service and the young man on duty whisked her bags away.
“I should check the apartment with you.”
“For what, Paul? If Dad happens to be there, I’ll call.” She’d had enough. The lack of answers, Dennis’ announcement, Meredith’s innuendo. Paul’s protective fussing.