‘Dan seems like a pretty regular guy. He didn’t pretend his relationship with Art was close when it wasn’t. Kristin . . . she struck me as a bit odd, but each to their own.’

‘She was wary when she opened the door, but once she knew we were police asking about Art, her wariness disappeared,’ said Ryder.

Flowers nodded. ‘I noticed that. It was like she was expecting trouble.’

They were quiet for a while, each preoccupied with their thoughts. When Ryder looked at Flowers, his partner was washing down two painkillers with a mouthful of lemon squash.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked, looking at Flowers’ empty plate.

‘Yeah, it’s the first thing I’ve eaten all day.’

‘That’s not like you. I see you’re still getting those headaches. What’s going on?’

‘It’s all those reports you’ve got me writing.’

Ryder didn’t buy his partner’s flippant response. ‘You had a bad concussion a while back, Daisy,’ he said, an image of Flowers’ head wrapped up in bandages flashing into his mind. ‘They’re learning more and more about the long-term effects—’

Flowers smirked at the use of his nickname and shook his head. ‘Sarge, don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s lack of sleep and too much screen time.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Okay, let’s hit the road.’ Ryder grabbed his keys and sunglasses off the table and stood up. It wasn’t his place to tell Flowers to go to bed earlier. ‘Make sure you get your accommodation organised this afternoon. And call me if you get stuck.’

Five

The big guy with a straggly grey beard that tapered to a point in the middle of his chest had been in a celebratory mood all night. On arrival, he’d told Sterling at the bar that a difficult job he and his co-workers had been grappling with had come together just before the end of their shift, after which they’d adjourned to the hotel.

‘Back in the sixties,’ he said loudly, using his size and position as foreman to hold court over his co-workers. ‘Back in the sixties, Buzz Aldrin came to Australia, and there was a litter of kittens at the property where he stayed around these parts. He named one of those cats Apollo. That cat lived for nearly twenty years.’

‘Ah, bullshit,’ whined a weedy kid who looked about seventeen.

A guy wearing black glasses and a cap looked away, trying to hide his mirth.

From his seat at the head of the table, the big guy slowly lowered his near-empty schooner glass. ‘Hey, sweetheart?’

Oh geez, here we go. Sterling straightened up from the table she’d been wiping down. ‘Yes, mate. Can I get you something?’

‘What’s your name, love?’

‘Ida.’

‘I’m Gus.’ He pointed to himself and then to the teenager. ‘That’s Spider. Who would you believe, love? Me or him?’