Des tried, but the cleft proved longer than his arm. He returned to his vehicle, rummaged among the load and eventually returned with a set of oven hooks, long sturdy lengths of wire with a hooked end that were designed to lift hot camp-ovens from campfires. Tilly waited outside with the professor while the two officers occupied themselves fishing in the cleft with their improvised tool. The echoes of a faint shout showed when they succeeded, and shortly they emerged with the weapon encased in plastic.

‘Okay, the place is yours,’ Des said.

Leary started eagerly for the entrance. ‘I’ll need a hand. Someone to hold the torch.’

‘Not me,’ Tilly declined. With all her heart she hoped that the tiny mammals within were a unique new species. It would almost certainly mean that the entrance would be barred, the habitat made inaccessible to people. Let the echoes of fear and death fade into the rock that held them. She would remember only the sacrifice. And even that was tainted with might-have-beens, like the ghostly once that haunted her heart. Gerry had died trying to save her when he could instead have chosen a life free of crime and been with her still.

She heard the voices and turned back to see the others exiting the hill, the professor like a jaunty schoolboy with the net hung over his shoulder, both hands cradling the box he had brought with him. He wore a beaming smile.

‘Well?’ Tilly asked as the other two peeled off towards their vehicle.

‘Oh, I think your young friend may be right,’ he said. ‘There’s certainly an excellent chance, anyway.’

‘So it is a new species?’

‘It’s certainly different to any of the creatures I’m familiar with,’ he said pedantically. ‘At this stage all I’m willing to say is that the Hipposideros inornatus is probably a close relative – very close. It looked to be a healthy colony,’ he said approvingly, ‘but even so, it would need protection. You wouldn’t be able to let people in. Constant disturbance . . .’ He shook his head. ‘It could force them to leave. And that would certainly destroy the colony.’

‘Good,’ Tilly said. ‘Let’s go home. And when we get there, ring Luke and tell him.’

Chapter Thirty-nine

Connor returned at dusk the following evening, the dust-laden vehicle he drove nosing to a gentle stop before the homestead. Tilly rose from her seat on the verandah and came down the steps, past the blaze of orange marigolds, to greet him. She had reached the bottom before her eyes even registered the passenger door opening as Luke got out.

‘Luke! I didn’t see you there. How are you? Is your head okay?’

‘It’s fine, thanks.’ A seam of tiny black stitches crossed his right temple where a bruise had bloomed in yellow and green, but he was smiling. ‘Who’s cooking today?’