46
KATY

Katy is setting chemistry homework when a runner knocks on the classroom door. Runners are Year 8 students who get a day off school in return for delivering paperwork around the campus. Usually the paperwork relates to permission notes for debating, sports or drama. On this occasion the note is addressed to Katy.

Detective Brien in the foyer waiting to speak to you. Will send a sub teacher to cover your next class. Jenny

Jenny is the school office manager, known for her strictness with students and teachers alike. Katy is slightly alarmed that a sub teacher has been organised so promptly. Is Jenny using her intuition or has Detective Brien inferred that their discussion will not be brief?

The bell goes and the students rise from their seats. Chair legs scrape the floor, bags are hoisted on to shoulders, and chatter and laughter erupt as they escape the confines of the laboratory. Katy wipes the whiteboard clean and packs her books away. What does the detective want? Surely, it could have waited until lunchtime or after school?

She runs into William on her way to the foyer. He’s wearing an unflattering maroon-coloured shirt and a hopeful look on his face.

‘Katy, I was wondering—’

‘Sorry,’ she cuts in breathlessly. ‘Can’t stop.’

One of these days she’ll have to tell him the truth: Nothing is ever, ever going to happen between us. I’ll never be that desperate. Look somewhere else for your future wife.

Detective Brien is studying the student artwork displayed on the walls of the foyer. She’s in plain clothes.

She smiles and sticks out her hand. ‘Katy, nice to see you again. Let’s go and have a chat ... The vice principal has offered the use of his office.’

The vice principal? What has any of this got to do with the vice principal? Katy catches Jenny’s eye as she passes the front office. Jenny’s expression is a mix of curiosity and knowing. Does she believe that Katy’s in some sort of trouble with the police? How long has the detective been in the building? It’s evident that she’s spoken to both the vice principal and Jenny. Who else has she spoken to? And why?

The vice principal’s office is lacking in both air and natural light and there’s no sign of its usual occupant. The detective waits until Katy is inside before shutting the door behind them. They sit down at the small circular table that’s usually used for student conferences.

‘Has something happened?’ Katy asks with concern.

‘There’s been a development.’

‘What’s happened? Is everyone safe?’

‘Everyone’s fine. I’m here because Robbie McGrath admitted to trespassing on school grounds. CCTV footage corroborates that he was here Tuesday two weeks ago.’

Katy’s breath catches in surprise. Well, that explains the vice principal’s involvement; CCTV and grounds security are part of his remit.

‘What on earth was he doing here? Was he lost or something?’

The detective’s brown eyes lock with hers. ‘He was watching you, Katy. He also admits to following you home on the bus and back to your apartment.’

Katy shivers. She pictures herself on the bus, busy on her phone or gazing sightlessly out the window. She sees herself walking through the all-but-deserted side streets of Neutral Bay, pondering what she’ll have for dinner, or perhaps gearing herself up for a run. She shivers again, goose pimples on her bare arms. Why would Robbie do such a thing? Does this mean Zach was right all along?

‘Are you saying that Robbie’s behind the notes?’

The detective shrugs. ‘We don’t know. What we do know is that the school’s CCTV footage removes him from our inquiries about Jarrod’s assault. But at the same time, it raises new concerns ... about your personal safety.’

What were Robbie’s words the day she and Zach went to see him? I’m an epileptic who suffers from depression, not a psychopath. But how can he justify stalking someone? Surely that’s approaching psychopath territory? She remembers taking his hand in hers. The overwhelming sympathy she felt for him. The urge to help him in some way, although she couldn’t for the life of her think how.

‘I don’t think Robbie would actually hurt me.’ Even as she’s saying these words, Katy is asking herself how she knows this for sure. She has no idea what he is capable of. ‘Has he been following anyone else in the group?’

Once again, the detective shrugs. ‘He claims that it’s you only. Says he wanted to reconnect ... It’s obvious he has unrequited feelings for you.’

Katy’s face floods with colour. It’s not as if this news is a shock. She suspected that Robbie had romantic feelings for her at school, although she never encouraged him. ‘I was kind to him when no one else was.’

It’s obvious that he’s still hanging on to that kindness today, attaching meaning to it. How sad!

‘There is one other matter of concern,’ the detective continues. ‘We’ve noticed that the note you received is markedly different to the others, both in structure and tone.’ She pulls a notebook from her jacket pocket and reads the words that Katy knows verbatim: ‘You need a boyfriend, Katy, and better security in your apartment block. Great idea to have a new yearbook, though. Hope you’re enjoying my contributions!

The detective has an expectant look on her face, as though she is waiting for Katy to suddenly cotton on to something. Katy frowns and concentrates. Yes, she supposes it could be Robbie. It’s definitely less hostile than the other notes, and could even be interpreted – in a very warped way – as being protective. It fits with the stalking and the unrequited feelings, but it doesn’t fit with what she saw when she held his hand in hers: the honesty in his eyes when he denied his involvement.

‘I don’t know why, but all my instincts are still telling me it isn’t him. He may have the motivation, but he doesn’t have the vindictiveness, or the slyness, or even the cleverness to orchestrate something like this.’

The detective nods, as though she has the same doubts. ‘The author of this note seems to like you more than the others. Is there anyone else, either in the group or on the peripheries, who may have especially liked you? Any old boyfriends who come to mind?’

Katy blushes again. The detective seems to have the impression she was some sort of femme fatale, which is almost laughable. She sees herself in her school uniform going between classes, clutching her books like an armour: neither popular nor unpopular, one of those plain girls who boys never noticed – except for Robbie. Then her thoughts jump forward, to today, and latch on to Mike.

‘There is someone.’

She tells the detective all about Brigette Saunders’s husband, who negotiated his way into her apartment and into her bed and who – through her naivety and poor internet controls – had access to all sorts of confidential information.

The detective takes reams of notes and follows with some hard-hitting questions.

‘How do you know that Mike was actually married to Brigette?’

Good question. Katy took his word for it, which now seems rather lame. He sent some photos but, really, it could have been any woman in those photos.

‘And you say that he works in security? Do you know the name of his firm?’

No, she does not.

‘When did you last see or hear from Mike?’

At least this she can answer.

‘Last night.’ He phoned while she was out running. She didn’t pick up.

The detective snaps her notebook shut. Her tone is urgent. ‘Avoid seeing Mike or even speaking to him until we run some inquiries and forensics finish having a look at your laptop. Be careful, Katy. Don’t be alone if you can help it ... I’ll be in touch soon.’