Page 93 of The Vanishing Place
“No, no. Just making conversation.”
Effie turned to the window, to the hills in the distance. “As I told you the other day, I had a fight with my dad.”
“Ah, yes.”
Effie glanced back at the mirror. “Have there been any signs of him?”
“No,” replied Morrow. “No sign of your dad.”
The car went quiet and Effie looked away.
“June showed me some pictures of you as a child,” said Morrow. “And, I must say, Anya is the spitting image of you. Quite remarkable.” She smiled. “There are more than a few conspiracy theories floating around the village. Quite inventive, some of them. Great imaginations, these coast folk.”
“People are allowed to talk.”
“Well, it might be worth speaking with them. Perhaps telling them where you’ve been. A number of people thought you’d died, or been reincarnated as a tree.”
Effie didn’t reply.
“I’ve wondered myself,” said Morrow, “how a fifteen-year-old girl managed to leave the country. Legally, I mean.”
Lewis tensed, his fingers tightening around her leg, and Effie stiffened. Maybe she disliked Morrow after all.
The car slowed, pulling up outside the police station, and Effie opened the door before it had come to a complete stop. None of them spoke again until they were seated in the interview room.
—
“So,” Morrow began. “We have theories.”
“Theories?” said Effie.
Morrow leaned forward on the table, interlocking her fingers. The softness she’d shown with Anya had gone.
“Possibilities,” she said. “Two of them.”
Morrow turned her head sideways, looking at Wilson, who gave a single nod, then she turned back to Effie and Lewis. Effie wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard the young detective speak.
“One slightly less than ideal. But either way, it’s an open-and-shut case.”
Effie opened her mouth, but Lewis jumped in.
“CIB have left?” he asked.
“Yep. Gone. Packed up yesterday morning,” said Morrow. “Just the two of us left. And we’ll be heading back to Christchurch straight after this. We’ll continue working from there, but like I said, it’s—”
“But—” Effie interrupted.
“There’s no point in us staying here,” said Wilson. “This…” He cocked his head. “This isn’t a command center. It’s a joke.”
Morrow touched her palm to the table and the man hushed.
“We found these,” she said, pushing two sheets of paper across the table. “This first photo is of two tutu shoots that we found discarded out the back of the hut.”
Effie blinked. “They’re poisonous.”
“Incredibly toxic, yes.” Morrow nodded. “I’m told that tutu shoots have been known to kill full-grown elephants. Within hours, apparently.” She shook her head. “Convulsions, loss of consciousness, respiratory distress. Not a nice way to go.”
“But even as children we knew not to touch them,” said Effie. “Dad made sure we were all aware of the dangers.”
