Free Perfect Victim by Megan Norris, Elizabeth Southall Page B

had had a swim. I had been showering, and came out dressed to discover him in the kitchen. Heather had let him in. He said, ‘Your phone appears to have a problem.’ Enough is enough, and this was enough. Ashleigh-Rose and Heather stood looking at him.
    ‘My phone is not out of order. I just didn’t want to speak to you. In fact I am fed up with you following me around and I think I should ask you to leave the house. Right now.’ Silence. His body language was awkward. I do believe he was genuinely surprised. He said goodbye and left the house.
    This was two weeks to the day that Rachel went missing. I had not heard from him since.
    ‘Elizabeth, you must report him,’ Alex said.
    ‘It’s only a game to him,’ I said. ‘He wouldn’t hurt Rachel. You know that, Mike.’
    Mike didn’t answer me.
    ‘Mike.’
    Alex stood up with his friends. ‘Look, we’ll go to Church Street now, and then report our findings to the police. Elizabeth, think very carefully about this man. I think you’re acting very naively.’
    We sat on the couch. Mike’s silent mood disturbed me. ‘We must tell the police,’ he said.
    ‘Mike, you know he wouldn’t hurt Rachel. It’s not in his nature.’
    ‘But going after other men’s wives is?’ he answered. ‘You shamed him in front of the other children. You haven’t heard from him in two weeks. And what does he give you every birthday, Christmas, or even Mother’s Day … a small present?’
    ‘So?’ I said.
    ‘So what if he told Rachel his business needed a model or dancer for the night? What if he said they would provide the clothing? If he told her it was okay with us, she’d probably believe him. What if he thought you would phone him to say Rachel is missing? Then he could miraculously find her and bring her home on your fortieth birthday, tomorrow.’
    ‘Michael.’
    ‘Listen,’ said Mike. ‘We don’t know that by not ringing and asking him for help we haven’t backed him into a corner. Now he can’t come to your rescue. He can’t be your knight in shining armour …’
    ‘Oh, Michael,’ I interrupted, thinking how melodramatic he was sounding.
    ‘How do you know he just won’t decide to give her back to you, dead. A present for your fortieth.’
    I started to sob. ‘You can’t be serious. He wouldn’t do that. Rachel’s not dead.’
    Mike shrugged his shoulders.
    ‘Don’t you give up on her. Don’t you!’
    My mother interrupted. ‘Elizabeth, it does sound feasible.’
    ‘It’s a game to him. Just an annoying game.’
    ‘Dulcie didn’t think so,’ said Mike. ‘We’re telling the police. I think he would too, in similar circumstances.’
    This just couldn’t be possible, but Mike was creating such a strong image of what could have been. Even so, the story didn’t seem to agree with Rachel’s account to Manni. This man was not an old female friend . Rachel would recognise him. How could he possibly get away with holding her for a week?
    Mike reminded me that this man’s family owned a holiday house. Perhaps the house was empty. And what about the memory-loss drugs we had learnt of?
    By midday I was convinced we needed to inform the police. Rachel’s survival could depend on us discovering her today.
    My cousin Michele arrived and offered to drive us into Richmond. Before we left, Alex returned. He and his friends had doorknocked Church Street and had not received a warm welcome at Richmond police when they reported their results. The police were annoyed that we were still carrying out our own investigations.
    Michele drove us to the Richmond police station. We asked Mum to continue ringing shoe shops and Mike suggested she try some shops in Moonee Ponds, where Manni lived.
    We received a phone call from Mum at about 2 p.m. A shoe shop in Moonee Ponds sold a range of cross-trainers called Runaways. They cost from $50 to $100 and there had been a display of them for some months in their window.
    We walked into the Richmond police station