Hirsch sighed. ‘Will you at least let me contact my friend in the police in Adelaide? The one who polices the police. She’s straight, she’s honest, she has no contacts with anyone in New South Wales…’

Louise gave it some reluctant thought, rolling her shoulders. ‘Maybe.’

‘How about this?’ Hirsch said. ‘I take Mr Flann to jail and come straight back and collect you and drive you to Adelaide. I won’t say anything to anybody about finding you. We’ll put you somewhere safe until everyone involved has been arrested.’

Another ‘maybe’ shrug.

‘You can’t stay here, Louise. You just can’t. Another week? Out of the question. Think of Anna. Think of yourself. Food, clean clothes, a proper bathroom, proper bed…’

‘Sounds like a plan to me, girls,’ Washburn said. An arm around each sister, he rocked them gently, looking down at the tops of their heads. ‘What do you think?’

Louise Rennie looked directly at Hirsch as she answered him. ‘I think if Paul comes back, we might be okay. And if he doesn’t it means they’ve got him.’

30

30

AS HIRSCH HEADED away from the creek, past Craig’s camp and out along the track, it occurred to him how unwise it would be to hand Wayne Flann over to the Homicide Squad in Redruth right now. Or even to Sergeant Brandl. As soon as the arrest was made public, everyone would get wind of the Rennie girls. Flann himself would probably broadcast the story that he’d merely been looking for them and how come Hirsch wasn’t telling anyone he’d found them? Meanwhile if a killer was still lurking, time was an issue. Taking Flann down to Redruth, booking him in and answering inconvenient questions would eat too much of it. The sooner the girls were secure, the better.

Reaching the wagon wheel at the turnoff and seeing that he had two signal bars, Hirsch pulled over and called Bob Muir. Flann immediately began shouting and kicking the wall panels.

Hirsch muted the CCTV. Now he could hear Bob’s voice in his ear: ‘Well if it isn’t the local law.’

‘Are you at home?’

‘Working in the shed.’

‘Are you free for a couple of hours? I need you to babysit Wayne Flann.’

Muir didn’t waste time on incredulous questions. ‘Where?’

‘What used to be the lockup.’ A room at the rear of the Tiverton police station, now used for storage but still fitted with good locks and a barred window.

‘When?’

‘I’ll be there in half an hour,’ Hirsch said.

‘Okay.’

‘He knows you,’ Hirsch said. ‘Sit in a chair, read a book, talk to him, give him water and food. I don’t want him hanging himself with a shoelace.’

‘What’s he done?’

‘Shot Mrs Rennie and her son.’

A pause. ‘Okay.’

‘See you soon,’ Hirsch said, but he’d lost his signal.