Rory

Dawn stole across the sky. A thin mist hovered over the grass of the parkland, lending it an other-worldly feeling. Rory’s throat was raw from calling Bridie’s name. It had been hours now. He was desperate to find her, but just as desperate not to. Not here in this lonely expanse of inner-city park. Nothing good would have happened if she were here, hidden behind a bush or tree or in one of the grim toilet blocks. He fought back images of her body slumped or sprawled, unconscious or – he couldn’t bear it – dead-cold. He forced himself to conjure happier images.

Little Miss Happy. The toddler who cackled every time she clapped her hands. The little girl who perched tiaras on his head and invited him to her imaginary tea parties. The earnest student, always trying her best. The sweet teenager who had been so caring and thoughtful during her mum’s sickness. When had he last told Bridie that he loved her?

His phone started ringing in his pocket. He fumbled in his haste to answer it, almost dropping it on the damp springy grass.

‘This is Rory Sullivan.’ A lump of dread and hope stuck in his throat, making it difficult to speak, to breathe.

‘Rory, this is Detective Senior Sergeant Akash Mani from Surry Hills Police Area Command.’ The voice was clear, slightly accented, authoritative. ‘I’ve taken over your daughter’s case this morning. Just wondering if I can get you and your wife to come in for an urgent interview?’

‘Surry Hills? We’re in Moore Park. We’ll be there as quickly as we can.’

Rory texted Rachel, asking her to meet him back at the monument. He jogged, passing a handful of early morning cyclists and dog walkers on his way, unable to return their friendly smiles. There was Emmet, hands stuffed in his pockets, pacing in circles. Poor kid was hungry and exhausted. Distraught. They all were.

Rachel appeared, breathless and wearing an expression he recognised: a wide-eyed combination of hope and fear.

He shook his head to convey that there was no real news. ‘The detective in charge wants to interview us. Emmet, are you okay to stay here for a little bit longer?’

‘Course, Dad.’

Rory hooked his arm through Rachel’s, to prop her up. ‘Come on. We’ll get an Uber.’

~

Ten minutes later he and Rachel had transitioned from open-skied, bird-chirping parkland to the busy reception area of Surry Hills Police Station. The level of activity was disconcerting, given that it was only 6 am. Uniformed and plain-clothes officers coming and going, sipping from mugs of coffee, talking into their phones. Impatient relatives and members of the public sitting restlessly in the waiting area. Rough-looking individuals being discharged after a sobering night in the cells.

Detective Senior Sergeant Akash Mani shook their hands before ushering them to a small bland interview room. Medium height, early forties, he had a firm handshake and watchful dark eyes, which he used to assess their sleepless, frantic state. Rory was beyond caring about first impressions.

In the interview room, another officer was waiting: a blonde thirty-something woman who was already writing notes.

‘This is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Eve Campbell.’

She set down her pen. ‘Hello. Can we get you something to drink? Tea, coffee, water? You’ve had a long stressful night. Some refreshments will help you stay alert so we don’t miss any important details.’

Rory couldn’t contemplate drinking or eating while his daughter was missing, potentially hurt, but Rachel squeezed his hand and murmured, ‘We need clear heads … Yes, we’ll have two teas, please. Milk, no sugar. Thank you.’

Detective Campbell picked up her phone and called the order through to someone on the other end.

Detective Mani waited until she was finished before speaking. ‘Mr and Mrs Sullivan, I know you are terribly worried. I can assure you we are doing everything possible to locate Bridie – we have cars patrolling the streets, we’re in the process of arranging a search party and drones for the nearby parks, and there is a team analysing CCTV from the venue and the local area as we
speak.’

The detective seemed to be methodical and meticulous, which was reassuring. Nevertheless, sitting here went against all of Rory’s instincts. He wanted to do something constructive, something that would bring Bridie back sooner. Was answering more questions going to achieve very much?

‘Given that your daughter hasn’t been located or made any contact, we do need to consider whether this could be a voluntary disappearance. And I must ask the question: did Bridie have a reason to run away? Was something happening at home or at school?’

Rachel began to answer. ‘Nothing major. Bridie had a few friend issues and was reconstructing her social circle, but she’s generally a sensible, level-headed girl who works through any problems. And she would never worry us intentionally, especially not me. I was diagnosed with cancer late last year. I’m in remission now but Bridie is still very protective.’

‘Did Bridie display any signs of drug abuse or self-harm?’

Rachel shook her head firmly. ‘Absolutely none. The officers last night asked the same question.’

‘Sorry, we do tend to repeat the same questions, to cross-check information and unearth facts that might not immediately come to mind ... Were there any family members Bridie was avoiding or acting strangely around?’

‘No. She gets on quite well with her brother. He’s still waiting at our meeting spot, outside the stadium.’

‘How about the wider family?’

‘Her uncle is staying with us on a temporary basis. I don’t think there’s anything untoward …’

They all heard the falter in her voice.

Rory’s head started spinning, recalling Sean’s regular queries about Bridie having a boyfriend, and her obvious discomfort around him. Something else, more recent. Had Sean given Bridie a once-over before they left the house yesterday? Jesus Christ. Was there something going on right under their noses? Something they’d missed, being so caught up in their own problems? The thought of it made his blood boil.

A junior officer knocked on the door, balancing two mugs of tea and some mini packs of biscuits. Rory sipped the tea cautiously, hoping it would ease the fear and fury churning in his stomach. If Sean had put a step out of line, Rory would kill him with his bare hands. Going by Rachel’s horrified expression, her thoughts were spiralling in the same direction.

Detective Mani waited until the junior officer had clicked the door shut before resuming. ‘Let’s talk statistics for a minute. Fifty-five per cent of people who go missing are teenagers in the thirteen to seventeen age group. The reasons? Mainly mental illness, suicidal thoughts or wanting to avoid conflict or tension at home. So, from where I’m sitting, it’s likely that Bridie left the concert voluntarily. Ruling out mental illness and suicidal thoughts, it’s likely she was avoiding a situation or someone at home. Of course, we will follow up all lines of inquiry and keep an open mind on potential abduction and foul play. And we’ll contact the hospitals and all the other usual places. All I ask is that you also keep an open mind, and call me or Detective Campbell immediately if you think of anything else that might be relevant.’