“And your dad’s not interested?”
“I guess not.” Zara shrugged. They were nearly at the Drop now, and sure enough, Falk could see Joel waiting, Luna at his feet. He raised a hand, his expression lifting as he saw them. After a second, Zara smiled and waved back. “Otherwise, something would happen between them, right?”
“Probably,” Falk said. “That’s usually how it goes. If both people feel the same way.”
Zara gave a small smile. “Yeah. That’s kind of the key, isn’t it?” She raised her voice and called out to Joel. “Your cleaning service has arrived.”
“Thanks,” Joel said as they got nearer, looking happy when he saw the paint thinner. “Great, this is the brand we used last time. And listen, I can get this back to you later,” he said to Falk. “You don’t have to stay and do this.”
Falk wondered if that was a hint to leave him and Zara to it, but Joel seemed to mean what he said. And the late-afternoon sun was warm and the water was shining, and Falk was in no real rush to get back to the vineyard. He picked up one of the cloths. “It’s okay. Let’s see this in action.”
Zara had been right, it was good stuff. She got out her phone and streamed some upbeat music Falk hadn’t heard before while the three of them worked, the bushland rustling gently around them and the barrier growing clearer as they moved along. Not entirely clean, though, Falk noticed with irritation. The paint was simply too old, and the graffiti and dirt had soaked in over the years, leaving ugly gray marks and patches. Still, it was better. He could tell by the chatter and occasional ripple of laughter that Joel was pleased.
The sun was a little lower in the sky when Zara stretched, lifting her arms over her head. She relaxed back against the barrier and watched Falk for a minute. He could tell from the way she was tossing her cloth from one hand to the other that she was working up to saying something. He just waited.
“So, Aaron,” she said eventually. “My uncle says you work in financial policing.”
“Yep.” Falk nodded.
“People get killed over that kind of stuff, right?”
He looked up at that. “Money? Yeah. All the time. Why?”
Zara wasn’t focused on him now, though. She was instead fixed on Joel, and the pair were conducting an intense silent conversation with their eyes. Something they’d discussed before, Falk could tell, from the way she was gesturing with tiny tilts of her head.
“Why?” Falk asked again.
Zara gave a single sharp nod this time. Joel looked vaguely mutinous, but sighed deep and long, then took a breath.
“So—” He seemed unsure where to start. “Did you know my dad was an accountant?”
“Yeah.”
“Well.” He glanced at Zara, who communicated something forcefully with her eyebrows. “Do you reckon it’s possible his accident was deliberate rather than just an accident?”
It was always possible, Falk thought. Whether it was likely or not, he really didn’t have enough information to guess. Joel’s face was serious, though.
“What makes you say that, mate?”
The guy shrugged. “Just been thinking.”
They looked at each other for a minute.
“Okay.” Falk rested against the barrier. He chose his words carefully. “Well, let’s walk through that. Your dad mainly did the accounts for a lot of people in town, right?” Joel nodded. “So that would suggest he wasn’t involved in anything illegal. Because if he was, it would’ve come out by now. Probably as soon as the next person took over the books.”
Joel looked a little relieved, which he hid by being instantly defensive. “He absolutely wasn’t like that—”
“No, mate, I’m not saying—”
“What if he uncovered something illegal, though?” Zara piped up. “Through his work?”
That, thought Falk, was actually not impossible. But, still.
“Look, it does happen. But then whatever it was would have to be major enough to justify really extreme action.” Falk rested a hand near the memorial plaque. “But also small enough that it hasn’t come out another way in the past six years. So that narrows the options a bit.”
“Dad wouldn’t have gotten himself involved in anything bad. He wasn’t into anything like that. But he could be”—Joel hesitated—“outspoken, I guess. He said what he thought. Not everyone likes that.”
“Okay.”
“Or maybe someone wanted to take over his business or—？”
“Did someone? Take it over?”
“No. After he died, it just closed.”
“Right.”
“But he used to walk Luna at pretty much the same time every day.” The dog raised her head at the sound of her name. “So people knew he’d be here in the mornings.”
“Okay.”
Falk looked at Joel. He thought he understood what the boy was reaching for. A reason. There was something almost unbearably tragic in randomness. The thought of millions of minor inconsequential events cascading into a single moment.
“The thing is, Joel,” Falk said. “If someone wanted to target your dad, this would be a pretty complicated way to do it. For starters, the outcome isn’t”—what word to use?—“guaranteed, I guess. And I don’t even do traffic, mate, but I can tell you it’s hard to fake something to look like a genuine hit-and-run. It’s not only the collision itself, there are angles of impact, tire marks—”
As he was talking, Joel suddenly pulled out his phone. He started scrolling through, fast, then tapped the screen. He held it out silently. Falk looked down, taking a long moment to process what he was seeing. A video. Of the reservoir, the track, the barrier lying broken and splintered— “Shit. This is the accident?” Falk blinked, blindsided. But yes, he could see that it was. The aftermath, more accurately. “Where did you get this?”
“I took it myself. From up there.” Joel glanced at the bushland. The clearing was once again invisible to Falk.
“Does Sergeant Dwyer know you have this?” Falk looked up from the phone. “Does Gemma?”
Joel nodded. “Now they do, yeah. Not at the time, though. I was supposed to wait at home, but—” He stopped and shrugged. “I came here, anyway. No one would tell me what was going on.”
Falk took the boy’s phone and, after a moment, tapped his finger against the screen.
The video started playing, but at first the image barely moved. The only change was in the way the light caught the gentle ripples on the water. The barrier had been violently wrenched from its holdings, and what remained hung at a jarring angle. Part of the track was roughly marked off with police tape, but there was no sign of life. Falk watched on, almost startled when a figure suddenly appeared at the edge of the screen.
Gemma.
Very slowly, she walked to the Drop. Her back was turned to the camera and her face hidden. She stopped where the barrier should have been, almost exactly where Falk himself stood now. Her hands hung loose by her sides as she stared down into the water. It was a very intimate moment, and Falk felt uncomfortable seeing it without her permission. He touched the screen and moved the video on. A full minute later, Gemma still hadn’t moved.