whirled around. I
never said a word to those two idiots about abduction. How did the media get
onto this?
They looked at her blankly.
If I find that anyone in this
investigation has been leaking information, Ill come down on them like a ton
of bricks. Understood?
Sarge.
Ellen scowled and turned to the TV
again, where the question of victims-of-crime compensation was being raised. Yes,
we think we should be compensated for our suffering, Pedder was saying.
How do you put a dollar amount on
that? the reporter asked rhetorically.
Katie is priceless to us.
The reporter nodded, full of
feeling, and said gravely, Tell us how youre feeling right now.
Like I want to rip your wig off,
snarled Ellen.
We feel just devastated, said
Katie Blaskos mother.
Afraid?
Yes.
Gently now: You fear the worst?
Yes, the mother and the boyfriend
said with their blinding smiles.
How would you deal with the monster
or monsters who have taken little Katie from you?
Justin Pedder showed his teeth and
gums and mimed hanging from a tree.
Wheres the public interest in
this? Kellock demanded.
Ellen was angry, but a part of her
was also thinking that the public interest would quickly move on, leaving
behind Justin Pedder and Donna Blasko, who surely felt ravaged to the core,
even if they hadnt the means to express it.
* * * *
She
closed the briefing and returned to the paperwork in her office. Thirty minutes
later, she had an inkling of what Challis often went through.
I understand we have an abduction,
Sergeant, said Superintendent McQuarrie from her doorway.
Sir, I
I have that on good authority, of
course. The media, no less.
Sir, someone must have
This station has always leaked like
a sieve, McQuarrie said.
He began strutting back and forth
before her desk. She didnt know what the protocol was. Should she come out
from behind the desk? Should she be standing while he bawled her out? She
decided to stand. That made her taller than McQuarrie, who was slight, dapper,
a bloodless little man. Was it correct protocol to be taller than your boss?
He scowled at her resentfully. Ive
called a press conference. What do you suggest I tell them? That Evening
Update got it wrong?
Ellen sat again. Headlights
flickered outside. Waterloo was bopping tonight. She could see all the way down
High Street to the waterfront and the showgrounds, the Ferris wheel and the
wilder rides lit up like Christmas trees. Its beginning to look like an
abduction, sir.
Beginning to look like, said
McQuarrie flatly.
A snide little turd. She wondered
what he was overcompensating for. His size? His total lack of coppers
instincts? His years of administering rather than policing? The fact that his
Rotary pals were company CEOs while his occupation was largely blue collar? She
badly needed to go home, pour a gin-and-tonic, soak in a bath.
I realise were talking about a
small child, for Gods sake, but its surely too soon to state categorically
that it is an abduction, and too soon for teary parents to be making a public
appeal. Do you have compelling evidence one way or the other?
No, sir.
Then you see my dilemma.
Sir.
Are you up to this, Ellen?
So now she was Ellen, his best pal?
What a prick. I am, sir.
Because Inspector Challis is only a
phone call and a plane ride away.
Ellen clenched and felt herself
blush, the heat and the colour coming from shame, defiance and anger. When she
found her voice she said, That wont be necessary, sir.
Glad to hear it, her boss said,
turning briskly and striding out of the station to address the cameras. He
loved the cameras and believed sincerely that they loved him.
Ellen stared gloomily at the wall.
Presently she got a call from a technician at ForenZics. His name was Riggs;
the voice was the kind that sniffed disapprovingly. That toy you sent us. We
found prints and partials from the child and the mother, no one else.
Ellen sighed. Thank you.
Riggs said, Hours. The state
never said a word to those two idiots about abduction. How did the media get
onto this?
They looked at her blankly.
If I find that anyone in this
investigation has been leaking information, Ill come down on them like a ton
of bricks. Understood?
Sarge.
Ellen scowled and turned to the TV
again, where the question of victims-of-crime compensation was being raised. Yes,
we think we should be compensated for our suffering, Pedder was saying.
How do you put a dollar amount on
that? the reporter asked rhetorically.
Katie is priceless to us.
The reporter nodded, full of
feeling, and said gravely, Tell us how youre feeling right now.
Like I want to rip your wig off,
snarled Ellen.
We feel just devastated, said
Katie Blaskos mother.
Afraid?
Yes.
Gently now: You fear the worst?
Yes, the mother and the boyfriend
said with their blinding smiles.
How would you deal with the monster
or monsters who have taken little Katie from you?
Justin Pedder showed his teeth and
gums and mimed hanging from a tree.
Wheres the public interest in
this? Kellock demanded.
Ellen was angry, but a part of her
was also thinking that the public interest would quickly move on, leaving
behind Justin Pedder and Donna Blasko, who surely felt ravaged to the core,
even if they hadnt the means to express it.
* * * *
She
closed the briefing and returned to the paperwork in her office. Thirty minutes
later, she had an inkling of what Challis often went through.
I understand we have an abduction,
Sergeant, said Superintendent McQuarrie from her doorway.
Sir, I
I have that on good authority, of
course. The media, no less.
Sir, someone must have
This station has always leaked like
a sieve, McQuarrie said.
He began strutting back and forth
before her desk. She didnt know what the protocol was. Should she come out
from behind the desk? Should she be standing while he bawled her out? She
decided to stand. That made her taller than McQuarrie, who was slight, dapper,
a bloodless little man. Was it correct protocol to be taller than your boss?
He scowled at her resentfully. Ive
called a press conference. What do you suggest I tell them? That Evening
Update got it wrong?
Ellen sat again. Headlights
flickered outside. Waterloo was bopping tonight. She could see all the way down
High Street to the waterfront and the showgrounds, the Ferris wheel and the
wilder rides lit up like Christmas trees. Its beginning to look like an
abduction, sir.
Beginning to look like, said
McQuarrie flatly.
A snide little turd. She wondered
what he was overcompensating for. His size? His total lack of coppers
instincts? His years of administering rather than policing? The fact that his
Rotary pals were company CEOs while his occupation was largely blue collar? She
badly needed to go home, pour a gin-and-tonic, soak in a bath.
I realise were talking about a
small child, for Gods sake, but its surely too soon to state categorically
that it is an abduction, and too soon for teary parents to be making a public
appeal. Do you have compelling evidence one way or the other?
No, sir.
Then you see my dilemma.
Sir.
Are you up to this, Ellen?
So now she was Ellen, his best pal?
What a prick. I am, sir.
Because Inspector Challis is only a
phone call and a plane ride away.
Ellen clenched and felt herself
blush, the heat and the colour coming from shame, defiance and anger. When she
found her voice she said, That wont be necessary, sir.
Glad to hear it, her boss said,
turning briskly and striding out of the station to address the cameras. He
loved the cameras and believed sincerely that they loved him.
Ellen stared gloomily at the wall.
Presently she got a call from a technician at ForenZics. His name was Riggs;
the voice was the kind that sniffed disapprovingly. That toy you sent us. We
found prints and partials from the child and the mother, no one else.
Ellen sighed. Thank you.
Riggs said, Hours. The state
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