Norfolk pine trees grew high on both sides of Forrest Street between Broome Street and Marine Parade. The Doney apartment was halfway down on the right. A double-storey, red brick block of four apartments, two up, two down. The Doneys lived on the second storey.

Cardilini knocked on the door. Mr Doney let him in. Doney, not a tall man, had dark hair and a round boulder head on broad, heavy shoulders. Large pieces of furniture left little space to manoeuvre between them. Lounge suites, sideboards, occasional chairs, clustered side tables, standard lamps and pouffes filled the room. A hollowed elephant’s foot that held umbrellas and walking sticks stood by the front door. Framed photos covered every flat surface and hanging pictures stared down from every wall. Only an army badge, crossed rifles supporting a crown in a laurel wreath, inscribed ‘Royal Corps Australian Infantry’ secured a space of its own on the sideboard. Beside it, a small vase of freshly cut yellow roses. Cardilini had noticed similar roses blooming along the driveway.

‘Take a seat,’ Mr Doney said.

Cardilini sat in an armchair.

Mrs Doney, a small woman who seemed to have folded in on herself, gave Cardilini a brief glance of her dark, bird-like eyes. Mr and Mrs Doney sat opposite on the lounge.

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Cardilini said.

‘Thank you.’

‘And I’m sorry to trouble you.’

‘No trouble,’ replied Mr Doney.

Mrs Doney left to make a pot of tea and Cardilini and Mr Doney talked of the weather, of farming, and eventually, when Mrs Doney had returned and poured the tea, settled on the subject of St Nicholas College.

‘Did Peter talk about why he was discharged from the cadets?’ Cardilini asked.

‘No.’

‘Were you surprised?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

‘Why should we be? He didn’t like it,’ Doney said flatly.

‘Did he say what he didn’t like about it?’

‘Peter wasn’t one to complain.’

‘He was dismissed for not accepting authority,’ Cardilini said.

‘That’s what we heard. Anything else?’ Mr Doney asked.

Mrs Doney now stared, unmoving, at Cardilini.

‘Was Peter an experienced driver?’

‘An excellent driver. The steering went. Could happen to anyone.’

‘Did you tell Senior Constable Young about the steering?’

‘What else could it have been?’

Cardilini turned his gaze from Mr Doney to Mrs Doney, who dropped her eyes.

‘Any other questions?’ Mr Doney prompted.

‘How was Peter’s state of mind before the accident?’

‘Terrific.’

‘Where was he going?’

‘When?’

‘When he took the car?’

‘He was . . . that road goes down to the highway.’

‘He was too young to have a license. Why would he be going that way?’

‘He was going to check a fence,’ Doney said with a quick glance to his wife.

‘I see,’ Cardilini said.

Returning his cup and saucer to the tray Cardilini casually said, ‘Tragic about Captain Edmund.’

Doney’s eyes turned murderous.