Vanished, James Delargy [i like reading books txt] 📗

Given her dry throat, it was a tempting offer, but she put her hand up to decline. The others did the same.

‘You said you thought Mr Kinch was here.’

‘Or a boy that looked a lot like him anyway,’ said Orad, in good cheer.

‘More than a week ago,’ said Cooper.

‘Second of January.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

Orad pointed to the small monitor behind the counter. ‘CCTV. Just got it in. Lot of petrol thefts around here. People coming into the shop and distracting me while another yahoo fills up their ute and leaves. Then they chuck a U-ey up the road, come back and collect their partner. The police were doing nothing about it, so I did.’

Emmaline nodded. ‘Has it helped?’

‘Only been one try in the last week.’

‘Ian Kinch?’ said Oily, with a questioning glance.

Orad shook his head. ‘Nah, mate, he paid. Another guy, sent his girl in but she clocked the CCTV, turned on her heels and left.’

He loaded up the footage. 2 January. A blurry image resembling Ian Kinch could be seen on the monitor filling a boxy Commodore at the pumps.

‘Do you see anyone in the car?’ asked Emmaline, the image dark on the screen.

‘No,’ said Cooper and Oily.

‘That’s the best shot I have,’ said Orad. ‘If it helps I didn’t see anyone in the car. But they could have been lying down in the back seat.’

Because they were injured, thought Emmaline. Or dead.

After filling the car, CCTV captured him entering the store and approaching the counter. Even in black and white the dark stain on his shirt was visible.

‘Was there blood on his shirt?’

Orad looked at the screen and nodded. ‘A bit.’

‘You didn’t ask him about it?’

‘Years of experience have told me that it’s best not to. Could have hit a roo, a camel, anything.’

The self-preservation of the outback store owner, thought Emmaline.

‘Did you see which way they went after?’

‘Not from here,’ said Orad, shaking his head. ‘Can’t see much out of these,’ he said, pointing to the dusty windows. It was like peering through a sepia-tinted lens.

Without confirmation of the ute’s onward direction she had to speculate on the options. Ian might have been headed north to Darwin but just up the road was a turnoff for Route 12 and then the 76 heading east, thought Emmaline as she watched Ian Kinch paying at the till. And grabbing something from beside it. Emmaline looked to her left. It was a display of insect repellent.

‘Did he buy one of these?’

Orad looked at the small yellow and green cans, face twisted in thought. ‘Yeah, he asked if it was good against mozzies. I told him it was so he bought five or six. Stuffed them in his pockets.’

‘Thanks,’ said Emmaline. ‘You’ve been a great help, Orad.’

She bounded out of the petrol station. She now had an idea of where Ian Kinch was headed. And what had happened to Naiyana and Dylan Maguire.

They were back in the car before she revealed the importance of the repellent. She had Cooper bring up a map of the area on a tablet.

‘We’re here,’ she said, pointing at the dot on the map. It was surrounded by a blanket of grey, one lonely line of yellow trickling up the middle. ‘Up ahead are turnoffs that head towards Queensland. Now we know both Naiyana and Dylan Maguire were born and bred in Perth and what do we not get much of in Perth?’

There was a moment’s pause.

‘Mosquitoes,’ said Oily.

Emmaline nodded. ‘Ian Kinch though is from Cairns and so knows how bad they can get. Maybe he gets bitten himself, maybe he is taking them as a precaution for Naiyana and Dylan. What it means is that’s where they were headed.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Cooper.

‘It’s what he knows. It’s where he has family.’

‘It’s also where he would expect we’d look,’ said Oily.

‘So, let’s look.’

‘We did,’ said Cooper. ‘We’ve tried his family and friends. They aren’t talking.’

‘Maybe they don’t know,’ said Emmaline. ‘He’s become proficient at staying under the radar.’

125

Emmaline

The Cross-border Justice Scheme provision had run out. It had before Emmaline had reached Alice Springs but she had pushed her luck in the hope that the trail ended there. But it hadn’t. This meant getting clearance to pursue from the Queensland authorities and HQ.

She waited at Alice Springs airport for the go-ahead to fly to Cairns. Given that she suspected he was headed back home, she had suggested keeping tabs on social media. In case something was mentioned by a friend in passing. A slip-up. But the Cairns police were on it already. Thoroughly scoured. No leads forthcoming.

A call arrived. Zhao. It wasn’t the go-ahead that she was eager for. It was a different update. Nikos Iannis had been arrested getting on a plane to Greece that afternoon. Using a fake passport.

She smiled as she hung up the call. So, Nikos had made a desperate attempt to flee. Which suggested he was planning, or had planned, something. Something that had gone wrong. She would have to trust Zhao could get him to talk.

Emmaline stared at the empty ticket desks. She turned to Oily. ‘Would Ian try to get out of the country?’

‘From Cairns?’

‘He could have arranged something. Given as we weren’t even looking for him until a few days ago.’

Oily pursed his lips. ‘But Naiyana and Dylan Maguire’s photos were everywhere.’

‘Everywhere is a big place, Oily.’

An hour later they got the go-ahead. Two hours in the air and they were there. The temperature remained the same, but the humidity had cranked up to uncomfortable, clothes that stuck to flesh and refused to budge, growing ever and ever more like a second skin.

Ian Kinch’s apartment had already been searched and surveillance confirmed no movement in or out. The stuffed-to-burst pigeonhole – post addressed to Ian King – suggested he hadn’t been by in the last few months. The local dives had been checked and rechecked but all had drawn a blank. Ian Kinch and whoever was with him had become