Whitlam nodded. ‘Yes. We still do, for the record. There’d been a mild bug going round. She might have decided he needed an early night. I think it was just one of those sad coincidences.’
He rubbed his hand over his eyes.
‘But something like that,’ he said. ‘Knowing how close he came to not being there. God, it leaves you with a lot of what ifs.’
Chapter Twelve
‘We’d have known that if we were liaising with Clyde,’ Falk said when they got outside. He tucked the box of Karen’s and Billy’s belongings under his arm. The cardboard stuck uncomfortably to his clammy skin.
‘Yeah, well, no harm done. We found out anyway.’
‘Eventually. I don’t know. It might be time to bring them in.’
Raco looked at him.
‘You honestly feel confident that we’ve got enough to make that phone call? Bearing in mind how they’ll react?’
Falk opened his mouth to reply when a voice rang out across the playground.
‘Hey, Aaron! Wait.’
Falk turned to see Gretchen Schoner jogging over. He felt his mood lift fractionally. The funeral attire had been swapped for shorts and a fitted blue shirt, rolled up at the elbows. It suited her much better, Falk thought. Raco took the box from him.
‘I’ll meet you back at the car, mate,’ he said tactfully, with a polite nod at Gretchen. She stopped in front of Falk and pushed her sunglasses up, catching her blonde hair in a complicated bundle on top of her head. The blue of the shirt set off her eyes, he noticed.
‘Hey, what are you still doing here? I thought you’d left.’ She was frowning and smiling at the same time. She reached out as she spoke and touched his elbow. He felt a pang of guilt. He should have let her know.
‘We were having a word with Scott Whitlam,’ he said. ‘The principal.’
‘Yeah, I know who Scott is. I’m on the school board. I mean, what are you doing in Kiewarra?’
Falk looked past her. A gaggle of mums had their heads turned towards them, their eyes hidden behind sunglasses. He took Gretchen’s arm and turned slightly so their backs were to the group.
‘It’s a bit complicated. The Hadlers asked me to look into what happened with Luke.’
‘You’re kidding. Why? Has something come up?’
Falk had a powerful urge to blurt out the whole story. About Ellie, the alibi, the lies. The guilt. Gretchen was part of the original foursome. She was a balancing force. The light to Ellie’s dark, the calm to Luke’s craziness. She would understand. Over her shoulder, the mums were still watching.
‘It’s about the money,’ Falk said with a sigh. He gave her a watered down version of Barb Hadler’s concerns. Bad debts gone wrong.
‘Jesus.’ She blinked, still for a moment as she processed the information. ‘You think there’s anything in it?’
Falk just shrugged. The conversation with Whitlam had thrown some new light on the suggestion. ‘We’ll see. But do me a favour and keep it to yourself for now.’
Gretchen frowned. ‘It might be too late for that. Word’s gone round that some cops were at Jamie Sullivan’s earlier.’
‘Christ, how’s that got out already?’ Falk asked, knowing the answer. Small town, fast gossip. Gretchen ignored the question.
‘Just tread lightly.’ She reached out and brushed away a fly that had settled on Falk’s shoulder. ‘People are wound up pretty tight at the moment. It wouldn’t take much to set them off.’
Falk nodded. ‘Thanks. Understood.’
‘Anyway–’ Gretchen paused as a swarm of small boys careered by in a chaotic game of football, the weight of the memorial service already lifting from their small shoulders as the weekend came into sight. She shaded her eyes and waved at the group. Falk tried to pick her son from the pack, but couldn’t. When he looked back Gretchen was watching him.
‘How long do you think you’ll be around for?’
‘A week.’ Falk hesitated. ‘No more than that.’
