Challis clattered down the stairs and joined the duty sergeant at the front desk. Night had settled; there was deep darkness beyond the light outside the main entrance. ‘This is Mr Wishart, sir.’
Wishart thrust his hand over the desk, knocking the sign-in book askew. ‘Adrian Wishart,’ he said. His grip was firm but so moist that Challis cringed.
He made a rapid scan of Wishart. Age, mid-thirties. Medium height. Artfully tousled hair, unmarked hands, and casual but costly looking jacket and trousers, so he probably worked indoors for good money. Clean-shaven: in fact, freshly shaven, his lean, ascetic features almost gleaming. Some kind of cologne drifted faintly in the disturbed air, disturbed because Wishart was trembling, suppressing powerful emotions, or giving that appearance. Challis read the body language and decided that Wishart was inventing it, behaving as he imagined a husband should behave. Still, Challis wasn’t about to read too much into that. He’d been wrong before, people behaved oddly in the presence of the police, and Wishart’s concern might not be loving but material: she’d run off with all of his money, for example.
‘Your wife is missing?’
‘Yes,’ said Wishart in a rush. ‘Ludmilla. Today’s her birthday and we’re supposed to go out for dinner.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘She normally gets home at half-past five.’
Challis checked his own watch. Just after eight o’clock. ‘Perhaps she went straight to the restaurant?’
‘No. I was expecting to find her at home, we’d have a drink, get changed, go out.’
Challis looked past him into the darkness. The light was odd out there. The eclipse. He turned to Wishart and said, ‘What time did you get home?’
‘About six.’
‘Where do you work?’
Wishart frowned. ‘At home.’
Challis frowned. ‘I thought you said you came home about six.’
Wishart’s expression cleared. ‘What I mean is, I work from home but I’d been up to visit my uncle in Cheltenham. He had a present for Mill’
‘Is “Mill” short for Ludmilla?’
‘Yes. Anyway, she turned thirty and he had a present for her. We’ve been close, you know-since my parents died.’
‘His name?’
‘Terry.’
‘Terry Wishart? I’ll need his contact details.’
The man looked perplexed. ‘Okay.’
‘What do you do?’
‘Architect.’
‘Your wife?’
‘She’s the infringements officer at Planning East.’
Challis frowned, placing the office mentally. ‘Next to Centrelink?’
‘Yes. She’s not there, her car’s not there, and she’s not answering her phone.’
‘Why didn’t you wait at home for her and call us instead of coming in?’
‘I did wait. I waited for ages, then thought to check the carpark, and was passing the police station and thought-’
‘It’s all right,’ said Challis smoothly. ‘Have you rung her work colleagues? Her friends, family?’
‘Her mother’s in Sydney. She wouldn’t go there. I rang her friend Carmen. She said she saw Mill at lunchtime, said Mill was going to be out and about for work all afternoon. I’m worried.’
Challis said carefully, ‘I have to ask you this: have you argued with Ludmilla recently? Is there anything in your relationship that might lead her to pack a bag and leave?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Have you checked her belongings?’
‘Yes. First thing I did. Nothing’s missing.’
‘The first thing you did? So there was a reason why she might have packed a bag and left?’
‘No! I mean, after it became clear she was late, I made several phone calls, and it was Carmen who said I should check to see if she’d done that, packed a bag and left.’
‘Has she done this kind of thing before?’
‘Never! It’s not like her.’
How many times have I heard that? thought Challis. It was another of mankind’s great lies, like a poor man can get into the White House. In his experience, most people were blind to their loved ones’ inclinations and potential. On the other hand, it paid the police to listen, just in case. He said, ‘Another hard question: do you have any reason to believe there could be someone else in her life? Phone calls she takes in another room, alterations to her habits, new clothes, returning late from work…’
Wishart looked wretched. ‘I don’t know. I doubt it very much. It’s not like her. She was so busy at work. She never stays away overnight. If she has a conference interstate or overseas, I go with her.’
‘You said she could be out in the field. Doing what?’
‘Inspecting, issuing warnings, following up on things. She said something about an old house that had been illegally demolished. People are always clearing vegetation without a permit. Stuff like that.’
‘She could be inspecting a property some distance away. She forgot the time, or she has a fiat tyre or engine trouble. You called her?’
‘Went to voicemail.’
‘The Peninsula is full of black spots where there’s no mobile reception.’
Wishart’s bony white fists beat the desk gently while the duty sergeant looked on. ‘I know that. I’ve thought of that.’
‘Then perhaps you should go home,’ said Challis, ‘and sit by the phone.’
‘But I did the right thing, didn’t I, reporting it?’
‘Yes,’ said Challis firmly, knowing all he could do at this stage was put in a few calls to hospitals and other police districts. It was far too soon for anything official.
‘What if she’s been in an accident? What if she’s unconscious?’ Tears spurted. ‘What if she’s dead?’
‘The best you can do this late in the day,’ said Challis, ‘is go home. I’ll start making some enquiries. Go home and call someone to be with you, a friend or family member. This uncle, for example. I’m sure you’ll hear something soon.’
‘That’s all? For God’s sake.’ Wishart moped out.
‘She’s done a runner,’ the sergeant said.
‘You could be right.’
Challis went out to examine the moon. He’d missed most of the eclipse. All he saw was a reddish smudge amongst the stars and the hard edges of the trees around him.