His face went slightly pink. She’d come across as the girl from the city lording it over the sticks, and she could have kicked herself. She still had a lot to learn. He leaned across his desk and stared at her.

‘Call me when this thing is done and dusted and I can announce it to the press. Definitely looks gang-related to me, though, Porter.’

She left the room and took a deep breath.

This wasn’t going to be easy.

Chapter 7

Thomas Watson was a broken man.

After he’d spent some time with his children, he made the short journey with a liaison officer to the Penrith and Lakes Hospital, to identify the body of his wife. The woman who’d given birth to his kids, raised them to be the outstanding young people they were today; the woman who’d made him laugh and made him cry lay under a sheet on a cold metal table, lifeless and empty of breath.

He stumbled and almost fell, and the officer took his arm.

‘You all right, sir? Would you like to sit down?’ There were plastic chairs along the wall.

Thomas shook his head. It had been a hell of a day. The worst day of his life. Telling Jordan and Millie that they were never going to see their mother again. Ever.

They’d wanted to come to the hospital. He’d said no. Now he was regretting it. Selfishly, he wanted them here by his side, supporting him, because he didn’t think he could go through with it on his own. He felt sick and leant against the wall.

‘Would you like some water, sir?’

‘No.’ They carried on. A woman in a white coat waited for them, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see another sympathetic smile. He had no more tolerance for pity left inside him. His wife was dead. He was living a nightmare.

He was led into a room and he noticed that it was cold. The woman spoke gently and explained to him that in the next room was a glass screen, and beyond that a table on which lay the deceased, covered with a sheet. She would go behind the screen and lift the sheet, and he was to confirm or deny identity. For one crazy moment he realised that it might not be Ella in there: they could have made a tragic, ridiculous mistake. But then reality hit him like a steamroller and he rubbed his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest and his head felt odd. His vision blurred and his hands were sweaty and hot.

‘Thomas?’

He looked at her. She was so young.

‘It has been explained to you that you can’t touch her?’

He nodded.