The picture covered the top half of two pages and showed a row of Easter Island statues – the very same ones, in fact, that I had happened upon during my earlier trip north. My predecessor had seen fit to depict one of the central moai clutching a handbag.

‘The entry’s about one of those picnics that never happened,’ I explained. ‘Now turn to the next page.’

Chloe dutifully turned the page, which featured another large illustration, again taking up half the page. This time the illustration was of that same central statue, but this time minus the handbag.

Chloe looked up at me, befuddled and exhausted, from the rear seat. ‘What about it?’

‘What is it about that statue,’ I asked, ‘that he’s so determined to draw your attention to it?’

She gave me a look. ‘Are you sure you’re not reading too much into all this?’

‘I know how his mind worked,’ I said, ‘because we have the same mind. Why that statue? Why draw it at all, or even make up any of these entries?’

Chloe passed the notebook back to me and I looked at Rozalia. ‘Aren’t you worried someone might ask where we’re going at this time of night?’

She shrugged and started the engine. ‘I figure we can just tell them we’re going on a picnic.’

We reached our destination a little under half an hour later, the wind sharp and cool against our faces. The statues were easy to spot, being silhouetted by moonlight that made the whole scene somehow eerie and primordial. Rozalia cut the engine, and I looked back at Chloe.

‘Coming?’ I asked her.

‘Sure,’ she said, climbing out. ‘Not that I have one damn idea what’s so special about these statues.’

Rozalia was next out of the jeep, then myself. The three of us made our way in silence across the grass towards the row of statues. I had forgotten just how huge the things were. Once again I extracted the notebook from my satchel and opened it as we drew closer to the statues.

‘So what exactly do you think we’re looking for here?’ asked Rozalia, staring up at the towering forms.

‘No bloody idea,’ I replied, then stepped up close to the stone platform supporting the statues. Rozalia watched me with a perplexed expression.

I trailed my hand along the edge of the Cyclopean platform as I walked along its length, until I came to a point where a few sea-rounded boulders had been pushed up against its side. On a whim, I hoisted myself up on top of them and found that with a little work I could just about get a handhold on the platform’s upper surface.