‘Yeah, love,’ Falk heard her say. ‘I’m sorting it. It’s fine. No-one. Go back in. No, just – go back in, will you?’ The woman waited a moment then re-emerged, red-faced and scowling. She turned back to Falk and stepped off the porch towards him. Stopped a few metres away.
‘You’d better leave right now, if you know what’s good for you.’ Her voice was quiet but hostile. ‘He’s had a few and he’s not going to be happy if he has to come out here, right? We’ve got bugger all to do with any of that stuff that happened back then. Understand? Never have. His mum neither. So you can take your bloody press pass or spray paint or bag of dog shit or whatever you’re here for and piss off, all right?’
‘Look, I’m sorry.’ Falk took a big step back, showed her his palms. Unthreatening. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Either of you.’
‘Yeah, well, you have. This is our home, right? Bought and paid for. And I’m buggered if we’re going to be harassed. It’s been twenty years. Aren’t you dickheads bored of it by now?’
‘Look, fair enough. I’ll go –’
She took a single step forward, pointed to the house with one hand and held out her mobile phone with the other.
‘Too right you will. Or it won’t be the cops I’ll be calling. It’ll be him inside and some of his mates who’ll be all too happy to get the message across. You hear me? Get. Lost.’ She took a deep breath, her voice louder now. ‘And you can share that with whoever needs to know. We’ve got nothing to do with them that lived here. Nothing to do with those freaks.’
The word seemed to echo across the paddocks. Falk stood frozen for a moment. Then without a reply, he turned and walked away.
He didn’t look back once.
Chapter Sixteen
Gretchen’s blonde hair bobbed through the pub crowd, and Falk felt a swift stab of gratitude that he hadn’t given in to his urge to cancel.
Leaving his old house behind the night before, he’d walked straight to his car and stood there for a long time, fighting the temptation to drive all the way back to Melbourne. After a restless night, he’d spent the day holed up in his room, poring over the stack of documents he’d taken from the Hadlers’ farm. It had been a fairly fruitless search, but he’d continued to work through methodically, making the odd note when something caught his eye. Head down, get the job done. Emerging briefly only to get food, he’d ignored the weekend bustle on the street and, after a moment’s guilt, turned his phone to silent when Gerry had called. Falk would do what he’d promised. That didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.
Now, downstairs in the pub, for the first time all day he didn’t feel in quite such a hurry to get away. Gretchen found him sitting at a table tucked into the back corner, his hat pulled forward. She was back in black, but a dress this time. It was short with a hem that skimmed her bare legs as she walked. It suited her far better than her funeral clothes. A few heads among the Saturday night crowd turned as she passed. Not as many as in high school, Falk noted, but some.
‘You look nice,’ he said.
Gretchen seemed pleased and gave him a peck on the cheek as he stood up to get the drinks. She smelled good. Something flowery.
‘Thanks. So do you. I like the shirt. Very cutting-edge Kiewarra.’ She nodded at his recent purchase and he grinned. She edged into the corner seat. ‘Was this the only table left or are you hiding?’
‘Hiding. Sort of.’ Falk smiled despite himself. ‘I went back to my old house last night.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘And?’
‘It wasn’t quite what I expected.’
‘It never is.’
He went to the counter and let the bearded barman pour him a beer and slightly suspect white wine. When he returned, Gretchen lifted her glass.
‘Cheers. Remember when we couldn’t wait to be able to get served in here? All those nights in the park downing whatever we could get our hands on.’ She widened her blue eyes in mock disbelief as she gestured at their surroundings. ‘Now look at us. Living the dream.’
Falk laughed and their eyes met as they thought back. Falk knew Gretchen’s glossy-lipped, long-limbed teenage years gave her a deeper well of youthful joy to draw on than most. But looking at her now in her dress, he was struck by the thought that those years, before Ellie died and before everything changed, may have been her happiest. He hoped not. He hoped she’d had more. He frowned involuntarily and the moment was lost.
Gretchen leaned in. ‘Listen, you should know. The cat’s definitely out of the bag. It’s all round town that you’re nosing around what happened to the Hadlers. You and the sergeant.’
‘It’s nothing official.’
‘And you think that matters?’
Falk nodded. Fair point. ‘What’s the general feeling?’
‘It depends who you ask. Some people think it couldn’t come soon enough. Others are pretty sure you of all people should be minding your own business.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And everyone’s shitting themselves about what it means if someone else killed them.’
Falk felt a pang of guilt at the string of missed calls from Gerry Hadler on his phone. He resolved to call him first thing in the morning.
‘What do you think about it?’ Falk asked, curious.
