‘So... what?’ There was something bothering him. He’d been so upbeat the last time they’d spoken. Something had changed.
He grimaced. ‘I thought that there’d be more rumblings, that’s all. In the building. So far it’s been very quiet. And that bothers me.’
Judith digested this. Quiet was deliberate. Quiet meant someone was in control. So maybe Alex Thompson hadn’t known where Eddie Fraser’s skeletons were buried. Luke Fraser—and Thompson—would go down, but Eddie would survive to fight another day. Judith’s eyes met Rocky’s. He looked worried. She didn’t like that. She gave him her best shit-eating grin.
‘Fuck it, Rocks. It’s keeping things interesting.’
* * *
Jude filed her request for Miriam and Ruth Hall’s child protection files, and then she left the station. It took forty minutes to drive to the Giffords’ house in Lilydale. She didn’t call to let them know she was coming. There was no answer to the doorbell when she rang it, but when she walked around to the back, she found Steve Gifford dozing in a hanging chair on the porch, and his wife just coming out of the greenhouse. Alison had a small basket on her left arm, half-full of raspberries, and she carried another filled with spinach and carrots and two brown onions.
‘Oh hello,’ she said. ‘Back so soon.’
‘I have a few more questions, if you have some time.’
They sat on the porch. Steve Gifford woke up and went inside, reappearing a few minutes later with a jug of water and some glasses.
‘Make some coffee, Steve, will you?’ Alison asked. ‘And bring out the cake.’
It took Steve ten minutes to return with coffee and cake, and Alison filled the time by pointing out to Judith which parts of the garden were thriving and which were struggling in the winter. Alison Gifford gave the impression that she would have been quite happy to spend the rest of the day like that. Sitting on the wide porch, a blanket across her knees, appreciating the view of the garden and the hills beyond. Steve Gifford was a little more wary. When he served the coffee, his eyes kept returning to Judith’s face. He knew she hadn’t come back for a social visit. Judith took out her notebook.
‘I have here a list of the children you fostered over the years,’ she said. ‘I want to talk to you about one in particular.’
‘Our kids were all great kids,’ Alison said.
Judith nodded. She put her phone on the table, opened it to Katy’s list, then turned her phone and slid it across so that Alison and Steve could see the screen. She pointed to the name.
‘Ruth Hall,’ she said. For a long moment there was silence, then Alison and Steve exchanged glances. It was Alison who spoke.
‘She was only with us for two weeks. And it was years ago. I don’t think we can help you.’
Slowly, Judith withdrew her phone. She held it between her hands.
‘She came to you with her sister,’ Judith said.
Again, that glance between them.
‘Yes,’ said Steve.
‘Miriam and Ruth Hall were once Margaux and Renée Palmer. They came to you after their father killed their mother, then himself.’ Judith delivered the statement like she already knew it to be fact, then held her breath.
‘It was a terrible thing,’ Alison said, nodding. ‘We thought we’d seen and heard the worst of humanity at that stage, and then Miriam and Ruth came to us.’
That was it. The confirmation Judith had been looking for. She felt that burst of adrenaline that always came with a breakthrough in a case.
‘Why only two weeks?’ Judith asked. ‘Was it a temporary placement?’
This time, Steve and Alison didn’t look at each other, but there was a deepening tension. A discomfort with her questions.
‘Why are you asking about Miriam and Ruth?’ Alison said. ‘You must know that Miriam died a long time ago. And we haven’t seen Ruth since... since she left us.’
It was difficult to know how to answer that question.
‘I can’t tell you details of the investigation at the moment.’
‘But it’s something to do with my guns,’ Steve said, his eyes on her, his expression heavy and concerned.
Judith nodded. ‘Anything you can tell me would be helpful at this stage.’