Page 22 of Cover Story

Ian patted his mouth with a paper napkin.

‘That I don’t know. Ask her? Appeal to female solidarity?’

‘Hmmm,’ Bel said. ‘A cold approach by a journalist accusing her of harbouring a high-profile offender is going to get a very fast no. And once I’ve done that, she’ll report back and they’ll eventually work out who must’ve seen the iPad and talked to the press.’

‘Oh God, yes. That’s an aim and fire at own foot. Let’s not. You see, that’s why I worry I shouldn’t be attempting this.’

‘Don’t worry. This is why we plan.’

Bel frowned. There had to be a way.

‘I suppose, being very basic,’ she said, ‘if I was seated next to Amber when she was putting the passcode in? Everyone has passcode protection but not many people are careful to shield those numbers in situations where they don’t think anyone’s watching.’

‘That might work!’

‘“Might” is pulling a lot of weight there,’ Bel said. ‘My mission is to become Amber’s friend, locate the iPad, get a glimpse of her opening the iPad, and subsequently get access to this device to download footage to a second device, undetected? Within whatever time we have left on the one-hundred-and-eighty-day scrub and re-record cycle?’

‘Reckon you could?’ Ian said.

‘I don’t think I definitely couldn’t,’ Bel said, grinning, and Ian grinned back. They too had a Fun Uncle and Mischievous Niece kind of spark. Nevertheless, Bel felt the guilt-squirm of what she’d be doing to this Amber. It was the Mayor and Amber’smother as targets though, she told herself. As the up-himself intern said, she might’ve got bar staff sacked investigating Ask For Amy. If you only followed leads where you could one hundred per cent control the consequences, you’d not follow any.

‘I have much belief in you. This dinner is on me, by the way. Also, I didn’t know your age before we met, Amber is early thirties …?’ Ian said.

‘I’m thirty-four,’ Bel said.

‘Perfect. I’ve been up close with the Kendrick dynasty at various fundraisers and functions. They’re all social climbers, collectors. From what Erin says, I get the feeling they like fresh blood, people who look the part. Make yourself seem like a fun acquisition and I’d have thought you’d be invited to the regular lock-ins and part of the club in no time.’

‘Hmmm. But no one’s trusting a journalist, whatever she says she’s working on,’ Bel said. ‘I guess, if I wasn’t a journalist …?’

‘You’d be undercover?’ Ian asked.

‘Think I have to. If I’m going to do an undercover job, doing it while I’m a newcomer in this city and virtually no one knows me makes sense. It’s probably my one spin.’

‘I’m starting to realise just how big my “ask” was here, and I never thought it was small to begin with,’ Ian said.

‘Talk to no one about this except Erin,’ Bel said, folding her arms and chewing her lip. ‘And please checksheisn’t talking about it either. For this proposal to work there needs to be no gossip getting back to Didsbury.’

‘Oh, I give you my word. Erin is extremely conscientious.’

‘Going undercover isn’t illegal,’ Bel said, carefully, her food temporarily abandoned while her mind whirred. ‘But the ethical considerations to prove public interest are pretty significant. Youhave to be sure there’s no other way to obtain the information. You need to show receipts, you need a strong reason to be digging in that spot. I know “you need proof in order to get proof” sounds logically impossible, which is why newspapers don’t send many people undercover. Or not that they admit to.’

‘I can see that. This is where I defer to your expertise,’ Ian said.

‘Could we try to jigsaw together anything at all your niece has that would support what she’s saying, obviously in strict “need to know” confidence? Screenshots, anything circumstantial that links Amber and Gloria to Glenn. Debits at the wine bar if she bought drinks there. Messages she might’ve sent to friends at that time about the affair. I’ll need that if I’m going to convince my editor.’

‘I’ll explain to Erin and gather everything I can,’ Ian said.

Bel knew, in her bones, if she could get the sign-off from Toby– a substantialif– she was going ahead with this. It was high stakes and terrifying and got her blood pumping, but more than that: if Erin’s story was true, she had to do right by her.

‘I hugely appreciate your adventurous spirit,’ Ian said, as they polished off a shared dessert.

‘No worries,’ Bel said, realising at that point she had long ago forgotten to consider Ian could be working some other angle. Aunt Tamara would be raising an eyebrow at her. ‘If nothing else, we’ve found out that white bread, condensed milk and peanut butter was the killer student cupboard pudding we were missing in our lives.’

‘Killer’s the right word, I feel pre-diabetic already,’ Ian said.

‘This Elvis is leaving the building,’ Bel said, hooking her bag over her shoulder. ‘Stay in touch.’

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