Chapter 8
When Ellie’s phone finally rang one day with the news she’d been waiting for, she nearly jumped out of her skin.
She was at home in her own apartment for once, having only just made it inside after another stealthy research mission and she was a little on edge.
She couldn’t quite shake the sense that despite how careful she was being, she was walking a fine — maybe even dangerous — line.
“Jared! What’s up?” She tried to cover her jumpiness with a bright confident tone but she over blew it.
“Where are you?” Her agent sounded bemused.
“Nowhere! Just at home.”
“Huh. I thought you were in, like, a gynaecologist waiting room or something. You sound weird.”
“Why would I be weird about a gynaecologist?” Ellie was baffled. “Pretty sure you’ve heard of vaginas before.”
“Yes, I’m not that kind of gay,” Jared concurred. “Vaginas are absolutely lovely, zero concerns here.”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on that.” Ellie pulled the phone away from her ear briefly to glare at it in confusion. “Can I help you in some way?”
“I’ve just heard from Fallen. We have a green light! Season seven’s contract will be on my desk by close of business and yours truly will be negotiating you a hefty leading lady’s pay-check, especially in light of the fact filming won’t be starting until late March.”
Ellie fell silent. Excitement coursed through her veins and it took her a solid minute to catch up with his words through her happy dance.
“Are you happy dancing?” Jared asked, quite reasonably, since they weren’t on FaceTime.
“Jared! Yes! Oh my god! Fuck! Yes, go, go, thank you, yes please to all of the money. Oh my god, March, okay! So much to do!”
“Ahh, you’re happy now that we hung in there, aren’t you?” Jared observed. “Not that long ago you were ready to throw Fallen off a bridge for making you wait, now March is suddenly putting time pressure on you?”
“Yes! I mean, well… no.” Ellie caught up to herself. “Just you know, that’s only five months away. Next month is Christmas, so that’s basically gone already, and I’ve still got so much preparation to do for this character.”
“Aw, cute. What’s to get into? Just channel your inner psychopath, you’ve played her once before, already!”
“I definitely think she’s more complicated than that.” Ellie defended Estella immediately and unthinkingly.
“If you say so. Congrats El-Belle, I’ll line up all the right people in the right places to make sure your contract is tight. Talk soon!”
Ellie hung up the phone and shook her head at herself. She’d swung from blazing with excitement for season seven of Universe Below, to arguing for Estella’s right to nuance in under five seconds flat. Was this a textbook example of getting too close to a character?
The thing was, following Estella and getting glimpses of her in the flesh was a little bit addictive.
Reading about her on paper had been one thing, but when, ever in her life had she had the chance to actually study for a role by watching the real deal?
Seeing how she walked, how she held herself, watching her smile and kiss the cheeks of her friends, getting a sense of the real human woman behind the headlines?
She sure as hell hadn’t had that chance when she’d played Elizabeth I on stage.
The one problem with her new research tactic was the fact she couldn’t tell a single soul.
First and foremost, Zara would flip her lid if she heard Ellie was sneaking out and following Melbourne’s most dangerous crime boss around the city.
Secondly, Jared would rip her a new one for threatening his investment (Eloise Silver, poised right on the edge of becoming a profitable entity.) Thirdly, the less people knew the better.
She was pretty sure she was crossing some kind of ethical line here, but what could she do?
She could hardly call up Estella Grant of all people and ask to meet with her, pretty please, to help Ellie convincingly portray her crimes on television.
Which is not to say that Ellie hadn’t considered it.
She’d entertained a brief fantasy of sitting across from Estella somewhere in her gangster’s lair and pointing out the obvious.
It’s going to air anyway so wouldn’t you rather I did it well?
Wouldn’t you rather I showed you as you are?
As nuanced and complex, while you… you know, orchestrated all those brutal murders…
? Well, you could see the problem. Ellie wanted to stay the hell away from any real interaction with a notorious likely-murderer, but surely it wouldn’t do any harm just to lay eyes on her, would it?
It hadn’t taken a lot, for a solidly grounded Estella Grant expert like Ellie to figure out how to catch a glimpse of the woman.
She knew the suburb Estella used to live in.
Hell, she knew her previous home address, back when she’d lived with Mike Grant.
The pair were too notorious to fly under the radar; there were literally true crime tours of their old neighbourhood.
Estella had apparently vacated their elaborate St Kilda home after her husband was murdered in it.
She had, however, been stalked by the news media for weeks after Mike’s death; photos of her on various high streets of Melbourne abounded, some with helpful captions like mob mistress steps out to feed sweet tooth amongst Elsternwick shoppers.
The media interest had wavered after a few fevered months, but there were enough clues within the salacious broadsheets to give Ellie a hint of where to start.
And so, having exhausted the limits of The Dossier, she steeled herself and forced herself to enter one of the most terrifying and disturbing corners of the earth: Facebook Neighbourhood Groups.
Given Estella now lived in Malvern, as per the latest intel, Malvern Neighbourhood Community Group was a good place to start.
Immediately, Ellie learned a lot about street hoons, the habits of dog-walkers, the local youths down on Glenferrie Road, as well as the critical importance of defending the local heritage streetscape from the scourge of affordable housing.
There were no hits when she searched Estella’s name however, so apparently the citizens of the upstanding suburb were above acknowledging their new neighbour.
Probably afraid the notoriety could cause house prices to slip into the low millions. Or, maybe they were just afraid.
It was in the adjoining suburb of Armadale that Ellie hit pay-dirt.
Cherie — a newcomer to the suburb — had asked for yoga studio recommendations and a helpful woman named Trudy — whose profile photo was a pair of labradoodles — had responded.
She’d stressed strongly to Cherie to stay away from Earth stealth was, after all, key.
What if someone recognised her? It wasn’t likely, but it wasn’t worth the risk.
Besides, it looked like perhaps her intel had been a bust, though she had just about perfected her half-moon pose.
She was on her way out of the studio after a particularly relaxing session, when she passed a fit-looking blonde woman walking into the next class.
It had taken her brain all of twenty seconds to catch up with her eyes.
Estella Grant had just brushed by within an inch of her.
Ellie felt shockingly electrified by the three seconds they’d breathed the same air.
Estella was a mobster — quite categorically a bad guy — but Ellie had been seeking her for so long that her whole body broke out in goosebumps in her presence.
She wanted to freeze still, staring at Estella’s retreating back, but managed to fumble her way out the door and into her car, still shivering slightly with adrenaline.
She felt unreasonably alarmed, as if Estella would have known on sight that Ellie was there for her.
For a second she fought the urge to switch on her car and back out at speed.
Taking a breath so deep even Jasmine would have been proud, she talked herself around.
Estella hadn’t even noticed her. They’d passed each other without so much as a sideways glance.
Estella’s guard was down; she was simply a woman on her way to yoga.
The realisation quite thoroughly stumped her. Estella Grant was just a woman, underneath all the fearsome stories. And Ellie was stalking her. “Oh my god,” she said, aloud to herself in the car, her jaw dropping open. “I’m the criminal! What a total fucking creep!”
Once she’d pulled herself out of that cycle, Ellie decided to stay put.
To get one real glance of Estella, to actually take note this time of how she moved, how she showed up in the world.
She slipped her sunglasses on, just to be on the safe side.
Would Estella have watched the last season of Universe Below?
Surely, she must have. Ellie was, at least, unrecognisable from that role without the blonde wig and contacts.
Would Estella have cared enough to google her?
To memorise the face of the woman who’d portrayed her on screen?
Who’d walked and talked, gripped tight to shaking guns and simulated sex in her image?
Thank god the afternoon yoga class was a long one, because Ellie had just about gotten bored enough with waiting that she’d calmed herself all the way down, before the next round of yogis exited the studio.
Estella was at the centre of the flock, because of course she was.
She was only average height, which Ellie found oddly shocking, her golden hair tied back neatly, her legs lithe and bare under tiny black yoga shorts, a casual black athleisure jacket half-zipped over a black crop top.
It felt almost cartoon-villain of her, to attend posh yoga in an all-black attire.
Ellie wanted to see her eyes but Estella was in the act of pulling down her oversized sunglasses as she accepted cheek kiss after kiss from the bevy of surrounding women.
Ellie had never wished so hard in her life for tinted car windows.
She watched as the women dispersed. Estella hovered for a moment on the pavement, as though undecided about her next move.
Ellie couldn’t gauge quite where Estella’s gaze was directed because of her giant sunnies, so she angled her own head down toward her phone, making use of her own shaded lenses to glance up and keep the woman in her sight.
Estella turned and slowly began to peruse the pristine, minimalist, neutral-toned dresses at the exquisite dress store next to the yoga studio door. Ellie drank in her movements.
Estella seemed entirely in control of herself, so casual in her demeanour it was as if she really were merely another wealthy suburban socialite.
As if she cared nothing for the fact that right now across Melbourne, an entire police taskforce had their heads down, dedicated to taking her down.
She was alone, unarmed — that skintight yoga outfit left no room to doubt — right in the open on a city street.
Ellie, quite suddenly, felt fearful for her.
She’d played Estella in season six! She knew how acute the tensions were between Melbourne’s rival gangs, how dangerous the players were.
Estella was right there for the picking if any thug wanted to come along and take her out!
She seemed absurdly unaware of how vulnerable she was, as if her aura alone was ferocious enough to protect her.
Ellie was right there, in a car, watching her, and Estella Grant had no idea she was even there.