Judith opened the door, and took a couple of steps inside.
‘Hello?’ she said. There was no answer, and she could see at a glance that the place was empty. It was a large studio apartment. There was a small kitchenette to her left, a double bed in the centre of the room, and at the other end, near the window and balcony, a couch against the wall, a coffee table, and a large desk overlooking the car park below. The place was tidy. The furniture was cheap, the coffee table and desk made of the same orange-toned, timber-adjacent formica, the bed a steel-framed monstrosity that looked like it would be more at home in a prison. The door to the small bathroom was open, and Judith could see immediately that there was no one inside, but still she stepped forward and double-checked the shower. The room smelled of damp.
‘The place came furnished,’ Wendy said. She’d followed Judith inside, and she was now looking around the room with an expression of displeasure.
‘Please don’t touch anything,’ Judith said. She had one pair of gloves in her pocket. She pulled them on.
‘No, of course not.’ Wendy folded her arms, and her face assumed a look of concentration.
There wasn’t much to touch. Nothing on the benchtops in the small kitchenette. The bed had been stripped. The wardrobe was open and the hangers were bare. There was a computer on the desk—an open laptop connected to a large screen. Judith went to the wardrobe first. There was a tangle of clothing discarded at the bottom. She leaned forward, touching nothing. It was difficult to be sure without picking it up, but she was almost certain that the tangle included the jeans and hoodie Alexis Turner had worn to her interview at the police station.
‘You said the girl you met was charming,’ Judith said.
‘Yes,’ Wendy said. ‘Very young, you know. But sweet. Chatty. Bubbly.’
‘Could you describe her?’
‘Oh yes, I can do that. I’ve always been very good with faces. My sister says she’s got face blindness. Can’t remember anyone at all unless they’re family or a very close friend. I’m not like that. I wouldn’t say I have a photographic memory because I’m no good at anything academic. But I’m great at faces.’ She paused, then hurried on. ‘Alexis was average height, I’d say around five foot seven. Very fit. Obviously a gym bunny because she had those toned arms and legs, you know? Blonde hair. Pretty. Very smiley.’
Only the height matched the Alexis Turner Judith had met.
‘Any tattoos? Piercings?’
Wendy looked doubtful. ‘No tattoos that I saw. She had little gold drop earrings. They were very pretty. I remember I told her that they suited her. And she had a little cuff on her left ear. But nothing unusual. No septum or eyebrow piercing or any of that. Not that those are unusual. Every second girl you see has her septum pierced these days. Which makes me think that the next trend will be no piercings at all. Everything seems to come in waves, doesn’t it?’
Judith turned to the desk, her mind turning things over. Piercings were easily removed. Hair could be dyed, or Alexis/Ruth could just have worn a wig.
Judith opened the door to the small balcony. She went outside. The temperature had dropped again. Gusts of wind whipped the branches of trees across the street and black clouds were just visible on the horizon. Judith turned and saw that the balcony had an almost direct view of Robert Walker’s consulting room. She could see his desk, his chair, the corner of an aggressively red artwork on the wall behind his desk. Judith felt a mounting sense of mingled excitement and tension.
She went back inside. Wendy Sweeney was still standing in the middle of the room, her arms carefully folded.
‘It looks like she’s left, doesn’t it?’ she said. ‘Even though she signed a six month lease. She’s taken all her things.’
‘Everything except this,’ Judith said. She went to the desk. The laptop was open, and plugged into an expensive-looking monitor. There was a phone—an older model iPhone in a bright pink case—also connected to the laptop. All three screens were dark. Judith hit a couple of keys on the keyboard and all three screens lit up. The laptop and phone were both password-protected, inevitably, but the phone screen displayed a background photograph. A very pretty young brunette, crouching down, her arms around two little girls, all three of them smiling at the camera. Judith frowned. The young woman in the photograph did not look at all familiar.
‘Wendy?’ Judith turned to the other woman and gestured for her to come forward. ‘Do you recognise her? Is that the girl you rented the room to?’
Wendy was frowning. ‘No. That’s definitely not her. The girl I met was a little older, I think. Also, she was blonde.’
Judith couldn’t take her eyes off the photo. She didn’t recognise the woman, but the little girls... for sure there was... recognition kicked in. It had taken her a minute because the last time she had seen them had been in far from normal circumstances. But those girls... they were Elsa Anderson’s girls: Lola and Doris. Judith stared at the photograph, her brain slowly, far too slowly, putting it all together.
She pulled out her phone. She asked Wendy Sweeney to step outside as she made the call. Rocky answered on the second ring.
‘Jude?’
‘I’ve found her flat. Ruth Hall’s. She was staying beside Robert Walker’s rooms. But look, there’s a mobile phone here. I think it belonged to Elsa Anderson’s au pair. Her previous au pair, I mean. There’s a photo of a young woman with her arms around Elsa’s little girls. Can you call Nathan Anderson? I don’t have his number or I’d call him myself. Make sure he’s with the kids. Make sure he doesn’t leave the kids alone with the au pair. Send a team to the house.’
Judith was already walking, moving fast.
‘What? I’m not following you. Which au pair?’
Wendy had followed Judith outside. Judith took her phone from her ear and spoke to the other woman.
‘Can you lock the door? Don’t go back inside. The police will be here soon. Wait in your car.’
And then Judith was running. Taking the stairs two at a time. She spoke to Rocky. ‘Just call Nathan Anderson. Tell him to stay with the kids. Don’t let them out of his sight, okay? And tell him to say nothing to the au pair. I’m on the way.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
