Time to go

Where’s your shoes? Come on guys, seriously, we need to move”

“Mum, where’s my oodie?”

“I’ve packed it already, just grab your bags, we need to leave”

“But I need my oodie”

“Now! let’s go, grab your bags and get in the damn car”

I laughed as my best friend marched her tribe out to the van. She smiled at me as her 4 kids piled out the door. Bags and hats, shoes in hands. They had been planning this trip for months. I was looking after the house and the animals for them while they were away for a two-week camping trip to the Blue Mountains.

The van was packed tight, with tents, camp stove, sleeping bags there was

barely enough room for their bags.

“I still think your crazy taking four kids camping on your own” I whispered as she handed me the spare keys to the house.

“I know you do, but I need to do this. The cat food and dog food are stocked up. Thanks for looking after everything. See you in two weeks, don’t look like that we will be fine”

“Stay safe” and with a hug she started the car and with lots of byes and waves off they went.

That was five years ago, and I haven’t heard a word from them since.

I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t hear from Becky during the two weeks. Coverage would have been non existing in the mountains. But when they didn’t return on Sunday as expected I must admit I began to worry. The kids had school Monday and Becky was a stickler for the kids and school. I rang her phone and sent her messages. I let it go until Tuesday then I took myself off to the police station and reported them missing.

After a lot of insisting they finally agreed to contact the camping ground in the mountains and make sure they had checked out ok.

Turned out they hadn’t even checked in.

Their car had been last seen heading towards Canberra, the opposite direction to the mountains. Where had they gone, why to Canberra?

The car was traced via freeway cameras until it turned off the freeway and was never seen again. After a half assed investigation nothing turned up. The verdict from the local police was that Becky had chosen to up and leave by her own admission. They decided she didn’t want to be found and that was the finish as far as the police were concerned.

Over and over, I tried to explain to them that she would never have left all her things. She wasn’t well off; she worked as a carer for disabled adults. She absolutely loved her job; she would never leave them. I am her best friend of ten years, the godmother to her children she would never ever just leave without telling me why. They wouldn’t listen. So, after six months, when the owner of the property threatened; to throw her things out in the street I packed up Becky’s things put them in a storage unit and waited to hear from her. I waited and waited.

It’s been five years now and I have heard nothing. During this time, after becoming fed up with the police ignoring my pleas to continue the search for Becky and the kids, I hired a private investigator. He wasn’t cheap. It had taken me five years to save up and with all my savings and more, but I had no choice. I was the only one who gave a damn about what happened to my friend and her children.

Becky had been in and out of care all her childhood. Becky’s parents were junkies and had been that way all her life. She had not spoken to them since Kylie, her oldest was born. She always said that her children would never be exposed to those people and their bad life choices. The police had questioned them, but they were too trashed and didn’t know anything and didn’t particularly care.

I met with John Archer from the Herrington Private Detective Agency.

He was a big burly man, mid forties to early fifties. Loud and rather jolly, a little too jolly considering the work he was in. We met at a local café. He had a strong Scottish accent which was proving to be a struggle for me to understand. I explained the situation and we sorted his fees.

We exchanged numbers and off he went.

A week to the day John contacted me and went through what he had learned from the police. Nothing new there, only they had indicated that I was a real pest, and they wished him luck. He had a mate in the police force who did a little digging into the case. Becky had not used her credit cards, nor her bank accounts in five years. He asked if I had any personal papers of Becky’s, letters and if he could go through the things I had in storage. We organised to go together the next day to the storage unit. I explained to him that I hadn’t looked through any of her things before packing them up. I probably should have but it had felt like I was invading her privacy to do so but now if it would help in anyway I would do it. He was surprised at the police having not done so previously.

We arrived just after nine and began. Tears welled in my eyes as each thing was taken out and searched. John took away a document binder full of papers, bills, receipts and other papers.

He contacted me a few days later wanting to meet up. We chose a park this time near my work during my lunch break.

He went through what papers he had found in the binder. The children’s birth certificates, Becky’s marriage certificate and her husband's death certificate.

“Tell me about the husband. It says here suicide”

“Yes, it was terrible. Dave and Becky were married for many years, it was just after their fifteen-wedding anniversary actually, which made it even sadder. Dave went away camping, said he needed some time alone and went off to the blue mountains and threw himself off a cliff. There was no doubt it was suicide, left a note on his neatly folded clothes on the edge of a cliff”

“So, the trip to the blue mountains was significant?”

“Yes, they were going to spread his ashes where he had jumped”

“Was he suffering from depression or in some kind of trouble?”

“That’s the strange thing; he hadn’t been any different. Becky was completely devastated by it, but she held it together for the kids”

“I found something I think is interesting, her bank records show that she had acquired a loan a short time before her disappearance”

“A loan, for how much, what for?”

“I can tell you it was for twenty-five thousand dollars, and she withdrew it all in cash a few days before they left”

“What the hell! What would she need that much money for?”

“Well, it certainly points to her leaving to start a new life, but before you jump down my throat, it could also mean she was being blackmailed by someone”

“This is insane, my friend was just an ordinary woman, who was grieving the loss of her husband, and just trying to hold her family together. Not some sort of fugitive running off into the night with fake passports and borrowed money”

“Look I understand, but I go were the evidence leads me, you may not get the answers you want, but it’s the truth I’m after. If you want to stop now then we can, it’s entirely up to you”

“No of course not, I’m just starting to feel that maybe I didn’t know my friend as well as I thought I did”

“I can tell you that no one fitting their descriptions flew out of Sydney or Canberra airport on the day they left or within two weeks of that date, but that’s only from the international airports, there are a few local airports to consider, but getting information from them is not always reliable. For a sum of money, they would lie through their teeth”

“I still can’t believe Becky would go off like that”

“Have you considered the alternative it could be so much worse?”

“Everyday” my eyes filled with tears, and I felt them trickle down my face,

He produced a clean napkin from his pocket and wiped it gently from my face.

“Now, now bonnie lass, I’m not saying anything has happened to them. It’s early days in my investigation. Also, the police investigation didn’t flag anything to indicate they have been hurt”

“Where do we go from here?”

“I’m going to make an attempt at tracing the car and I have a few other leads to chase up”

He agreed to call me if he had anymore information. We made plans to meet up again in a week.

John always tried to keep an open mind when starting a new case. He would always go over the police investigation thoroughly, if there had been one.

He had many helpful contacts in lots of places, which helped keep him at the top of his field.

He was currently driving the route that Becky had taken the day they disappeared.

“Well look at that, I wonder” he said to himself as he pulled into a hotel that proudly displayed a sign saying ‘Rooms for Rent’

He didn’t expect much, five years was a long time ago, but it was worth a try.

“Good afternoon, did you want a room” the bored looking guy asked him.

“No, I just have a few questions” John handed his business card to the guy.

“Wow, really? how cool”

“What’s your name son?”

“Lyle, Lyle Simpson”

“Ok Lyle, how long have you been working here?”

“Is there a fugitive here, I knew it, you have no idea the types of people we get here, am I safe, I can’t be a witness”

“Enough, calm down, just answer the question”

“My dad owns the place; I’ve been here all my life”

Pulling a photo from his pocket John began.

“Five years ago, did this woman stay here”

“Man, are you kidding, how am I expected to remember that”

“Fair call, if it helps, she had four kids with her, and a car fully loaded up with camping gear”

“Hang on let me think, I remember a woman with a lot of kids, didn’t stay here but her car was playing up bad, she asked if she could use the bathrooms and I called Arty from the garage to come look at her car”

“Ok, good, so what happened”

“Arty came and towed her car to the garage”

“What about the woman”

“I offered to call her a taxi, she said no, said they were fine, I don’t know what happened to her, she just left”

Arty’s garage was only a few meters from the hotel. John went through the introductions. Arty, seemed very dodgy, he didn’t remember the woman, but he remembered the car well enough.

Apparently, the woman never came back for the car, so he kept the car for three years and then sent it to the scrap yard and sold off all the belongings. He had no qualms about having done so. No, he never thought of reporting the car to the police. Yes, Arty was crooked alright.

With nothing more to gain from Arty John decided to head back. Just before he did, he had a thought.

“Hey Arty, was there by chance an urn amongst the items in the car?”

“What do you mean an urn?”

“The things they put ashes in, you know when someone is dead”

“No, nothing like that, it was just camping stuff, I didn’t get much for it anyway”

John left, he felt nothing but repulsion, for Arty, seriously who sells a family's possessions and with absolutely no remorse.

John stood looking around him. The street was busy, with cars turning onto it from the highway. There was a bus stop, did Becky take a bus? Did she get a taxi? Did someone give her a lift. She didn’t call anyone from her phone it had been switched off as soon as she left home on that day five years ago. There was a café and a few other shops along the road between the hotel and the garage. John went in and asked but no one could remember. It was possible she went in and called someone, but who?

Just when John was ready to call it a day and head back his eye caught sight of a computer and accessories shop tucked back, squeezed in between a laundrette and a florist. The ding dong of the floor alarm sounded loudly as he stepped into the tiny shop.

“Hi, can I help you” the geeky guy behind the counter asked looking around nervously.

“I hope so” John handed him his card.

“Oh, ok, what’s this all about”

John explained the situation.

“I can help you”

“Do you remember seeing them?”

“No not at all”

“So how can you help me?”

“I have cameras, they face the road outside”

“So, that’s great, but I’m talking five years ago” John shrugged

“I keep every day of every year, have done for seven years now, since I was robbed, I’m hoping to catch the guys that robbed me, I’m sure they will come back one day and I will get them”

Was this guy for real, he hoped so.

Just give me the date, it’s all on my computer.

John told him the date and up the footage came. The guy, whose name was Brendan made them a coffee, and they began to watch the footage from five years earlier.

After hours of watching and three coffees later, finally they got something. Brendan’s cameras were incredible, illegal perhaps, but John was thankful for them because at 4pm on the day Becky and her kids disappeared, here they were outside this shop on camera. The kids looked tired dragging their bags along. Becky looked stressed and was that a phone pressed to her ear. She was talking to someone. They wandered up and down for about an hour and then a black Suv pulled up. A man got out, he had a hoodie on concealing his face. Him and Becky seemed to be arguing. Their arms waving, aggressive body language. He indicated to the kids to get in the car. They got in and the arguing continued for a few more minutes then Becky got in the car, and they were gone.

John got Brendan to give him a copy of the footage and he drove the six hours back home.

When we met up at our scheduled meeting John filled me in on everything, he had learned so far. He then showed me the footage. It was heart breaking to see my friend and her children and I had no idea who the man was.

“How could Becky keep this from me. She didn’t have a man in her life I would have known. We seen each other nearly everyday. The police said she hadn’t used her phone, I don’t understand any of this”

“It’s true she didn’t use her phone; she must have had a second phone”

“Whoever this man is they looked like they were arguing, what if he has hurt her and the children” I began to hyperventilate.

“Breathe lass, we don’t know that anything bad has happened. Maybe she has gone off to be with this man. Just because she didn’t tell you doesn’t mean she wasn’t in a relationship”

“I don’t believe it, she loved her husband, and she was struggling with his death, she would not run off with another man whilst grieving for the man she loved. No!”

“Ok, I will have to take your word for it. Problem is lass, I think I’m out of leads”

“Please don’t give up” I begged

“Ok, I have one more contact that might be able to help. He’s a photographer, specialises in restoring and enhancing photos. We could get him to look at the footage and see if we can’t find out who this mystery man is”

“Thank you, for not giving up, I appreciate it” I gave him a hug to his surprise.

It took nearly two weeks but finally John rang and said he had something.

We met at the pub, John sat with a Guinness and I ordered a white wine.

“Ok, what have you got” I asked excitedly

“I have this” John produced the enhanced photo like a magician, even saying da dat da da, as he placed it on the table in front of me.

“Oh my god, it can’t be, somethings wrong, it’s impossible”

“What’s wrong lass, do you know this man”

“Yes, of course I do, it’s Dave, Becky’s dead husband”