It was late in the afternoon when Des, still in jeans and shirt, and a young, uniformed constable turned up in a four-wheel drive loaded up with a swag and camp gear – presumably Des’s. She was driving and Des, when he got out, yawned and stretched as if he had just woken. He probably had, Tilly thought as she greeted him, for he couldn’t have slept at all the previous night.

Des, whose surname she had forgotten, introduced his companion as Constable Helen Prentiss. They had come to fingerprint and collect statements from the three of them. The fingerprinting, he explained, was due to the presence of firearms at the crime scene in the cave, and the fact that an officer had discharged his weapon here at the house. He also wanted the bullet, if it could be found.

‘I can show you where it went,’ Tilly said. ‘Connor took Wilmot’s weapon away. And the other one’s still in the cave, though I don’t know if it’s recoverable. What’s happening in town, Des? Has Matt been locked up, and Wilmot? I know Connor was worried about who he could trust at the station.’

‘That situation’s been remedied,’ he said curtly. ‘Officers have been stood down and a new superintendent sent in. It took a good man’s death,’ he added bitterly, ‘but there’s a proper shake-up going on now. And a few soon-to-be ex-cops’ll be joining Wilmot in gaol.’

She made them tea and then they took turns at giving their statements. When she had finished hers, Tilly said honestly, ‘The times and the distances might be out. I wouldn’t swear to them. It all seemed to happen in seconds – Gerry getting shot, and then when I hit Matt and took the gun. I was so terrified. Maybe it was longer. And when we were driving, it seemed like hours, but it can’t have been because we got back to the cave quite quickly. So maybe I exaggerated the time there.’

‘That’s perfectly normal,’ Helen assured her. ‘I think you kept your head very well.’ She smiled kindly at Tilly, who smiled back.

‘Have you spoken to Luke?’ Tilly asked Des.

‘Yes. His memory’s patchy. He wasn’t able to tell us much, so you’re our main witness for Gerald Hillyer’s murder. And we’ll certainly be contacting the Indonesians about that refugee boat you mentioned. If we can find some evidence to link Mercer to that—’

Tilly broke in. ‘But he admitted it. He came right out and—’

‘Hearsay,’ he said, cutting her off. ‘Not admissible in court.’ He capped his pen. ‘Right, fingerprints, then if one of you could accompany us to this cave?’