'How'd the eye check-up go, Martha?' Charmaine asked after she'd presented Scotty and Jill.
Martha took a seat, with Madeline perching on the edge of her chair like a little bird, closest to the door, head down, her foot touching her mother's.
Martha sniffed and Charmaine reached for a tissue box from a sideboard in the room, and placed it close by. 'God only knows,' Martha answered, her tone angry. 'It's hard to find one bloody doctor in here who speaks English.'
Charmaine looked troubled and offered, 'Would you like me to arrange for a nurse to come in and explain things better, Martha?'
'No, don't bother. Apparently her eyesight will be okay. The nurse said she doesn't really need the glasses now, but…' She looked down at her daughter, face still pointing at the floor. 'Anyway, maybe tomorrow we'll take them off.'
Madeline said nothing, a sheet of blonde hair hiding even her glasses. She was skinny and brown-limbed, baby hair still on her legs, pink socks, white sneakers. Jill shook her head to shut out the image of an adult male pawing at her drugged body.
'Maddie, have you been back to school yet?' Charmaine asked the little girl, who shook her head.
'The school's been bloody hopeless too,' answered her mother. 'I've asked for someone to drop around some of her work, but they won't do it. They reckon it's best for her to get back there as soon as she can.' She raised a trembling hand to her eyes. 'Don't they know how stressed out I am? They'll be lucky if I let her go back next year. I'm too scared to even leave the house. What if the perverts who took her are watching us?'
Madeline gave a tiny mew and raised her face to stare at her mother. Martha McKenzie groped around for her bag. 'Are we going to be much longer? I've got to have a smoke. My nerves are bloody shot to pieces.'
'I know you don't want to be here, Martha, but I've got one thing I have to ask Maddie to do today.' Charmaine leaned towards the little girl, her voice warm and reassuring. 'Maddie, I know I said we wouldn't have to talk for a while, so I've brought you a present for breaking our deal.'
The dark glasses peeked up. Charmaine held out a small gift bag.
Madeline looked towards her mum, who was still rummaging in her bag. She looked up briefly, 'Come on then, Maddie. What do you say?'
'Thank you.' A whisper.
Earlier, while waiting for Madeline and her mother, Charmaine had shown Jill and Scotty the Polly Pocket toy she had bought for the child. These were tiny little dolls with accessories that Maddie had previously told Charmaine she collected.
No wonder she's so great at getting important details from victims, thought Jill admiringly.
Madeline took a surreptitious look inside the bag. A tiny smile flashed white teeth for just a moment.
'We have a photo we want you to have a look at, honey. I just want you to see if you know this person,' said Charmaine. 'That's the yucky thing I need you to do today, okay?'
Martha McKenzie's hand went to her throat at Charmaine's words. When the detective pulled an A4 envelope from her briefcase, the woman covered her mouth as if to stop herself screaming.
'Is that him?' Martha's hand shook. She reached out for the envelope, and then pulled back as if it might burn her.
'This is a photograph of a man, and we need to know whether Madeline recognises him from anywhere.' Charmaine's voice was still warm, but also firm.
A violent red flush had spread up Martha's throat and into her cheeks. She stared at the envelope as Charmaine withdrew a large glossy photograph.
Jill and Scotty had checked out the photo while waiting. It was of a fifty-year-old, balding white male, in a cheap suit and tie. He was standing on the steps of the Federal Court, a cigarette in his podgy hand. Police had taken the photo during his last court appearance.
Jill felt uncomfortable when she found herself thinking that she preferred the image of the only other time she'd seen this man, when his head was broken open like a ripe rock-melon on the sand at the beach.
Slowly, Madeline stood. Her face pale, her mouth a thin line, she moved hesitantly towards Charmaine. Her mother reached out towards her, then dropped her arms in her lap, her hands compulsively grasping one another as though to stop them grabbing Madeline and running with her from the room.
Madeline stood before the desk on which Charmaine had placed the photograph face down.
'Now, Maddie, I need to let you know something before I turn this page over.' Charmaine was seated and her head was on the same level as the little girl's. 'The man in this photograph is now dead.' She paused at the sharp intake of breath that sounded like a sob from Mrs McKenzie. 'So if you recognise this person, you need to know that you will never, ever have to see him again, okay?'
A barely perceptible nod from Madeline.
The little girl reached up and removed the dark glasses. Blinking, she placed them carefully on the table. They made the softest of sounds in the tiny room.
'Good girl. I'm going to turn over the photo now,' said Charmaine.
Jill held her breath.
Charmaine turned the photograph over. Carter's face stared up from the table. For a moment the scene was frozen. When Madeline cried out and dived across the room into her mother's lap, Jill jumped to her feet. Martha enveloped her daughter and the two rocked together as one, as if they were alone in the room, distress emanating from their single silhouette.
33
Scotty and Jill left Madeline and her mother with Charmaine and their grief, and quietly exited the office. They walked silently through the corridors of the hospital. Jill mostly felt numb, but she was also aware of a vague sense of satisfaction that the man who'd caused that chaos was dead. One day that was going to help Madeline recover. She remembered the fear that had chased her everywhere after the police brought her home. She'd believed the men who'd taken her could find her again any time they wanted to. After leaving her naked and still blindfolded on a school oval two suburbs from her house, there'd been no sign of them. If she'd had proof they could never hurt her again, that they were dead, she knew that would have helped.
When the glass doors of the hospital slid open to let them out, Jill blinked in the sunlight. She rubbed at her arms with her hands, chilled by the refrigeration of the hospital, and wrinkled her nose at the cigarette smoke that hung in a cloud around the entryway. Patients in pyjamas and gowns, leading their drips and monitoring machines like pet dogs, sucked in lungfuls of smoke while they chatted to each other and their visitors.
Scotty strode towards the road in front of the hospital. Jill had to jog to keep up.
'We're going to see Sebastian.' Scotty's face was closed. He stared into the distance. 'If there is some sort of club for these arseholes, we're taking it down.'
Jill sighed. She'd seen her partner in this mood before. If she didn't work with him, he'd charge in there on his own.
'We'll need a plan,' Jill said. 'They're not just going to admit they all hang out together.' They crossed the road and began walking through the park opposite. Jill negotiated around a homeless man lying face up in the 11 a.m. heat, his bottle already empty beside him. She was going to stop to make sure he was alive, when he grunted and opened his eyes. He mumbled something about the ozone layer, staggered to his feet and began to shuffle over to the shade of a tree.
'Surveillance, then. Let's at least go have a look at where this prick lives. Check this club out. And I want to talk to him. Shake him up a bit.' Scotty was in full stride, his features set.
Jill assumed they were heading for the bus stop at Taylor Square. They'd left the car with Charmaine Davis and would need to use public transport to get back to Maroubra.
'All right, we'll check out his place, Scott,' said Jill. She hoped to stall before they actually spoke to Sebastian. He'd just shut up shop if they were too inquisitive.
Jill took two steps for every one of Scotty's. The sun felt good on her shoulders after the chill of the hospital. They were approaching The Wall, a sandstone barricade that was formerly the outside wall of an old gaol.
