‘I hear you and your father took a drive yesterday,’ Doyle says.

While Sarah clambers into her designated seat, Abby lifts the twins onto chairs made high with stacked cushions. She places a small plate of food in front of each of them.

I wish I could take the call in another room. I don’t want Abby or the kids to hear this. In a house this size, you’d think they’d have a second phone.

‘Who’d you hear that from?’ I want Doyle to admit he knows Finn and his henchmen, or Maria.

‘The man in the fucking moon. What does your father want with that boy?’

‘Not sure who you mean.’

Abby looks at me. I cover the phone and whisper, ‘My mate Jason. All good.’

‘Don’t get smart with me,’ Doyle says. ‘What does he have that you want? Did she give him something? A letter, photographs? Maybe I’ll ask him myself.’

Abby cuts the kids’ meat into small chunks and butters the corn, then leaves the room, thinking, I suppose, that I’ll supervise. I ignore Petey’s instantly spilled water and speak quickly.

‘Beau doesn’t have anything. Dad wanted to make sure he was okay. He promised Skye he’d do that.’

‘And all of a sudden he knew she’d lived on a commune and how to get there. Should’ve told me the truth when I asked the first time.’

‘Sure, yes. She recently told him she had a son and wanted Dad to check in on him. Which we did. End of story.’

He’s eating something – is everyone eating right now? – and makes me wait while he chews into the phone. ‘Not quite. It’s been brought to my attention that your brother-in-law is that Four Corners reporter.’ I’m amazed he didn’t already know that. Not much of a cop. ‘Did he send you out there? Because if he did, we have a problem, you and me.’

‘No, we didn’t tell him we were going there. It was only a quick drive to see that Beau was all right. Nothing else there is of any interest.’

‘You lot need to compare notes.’ He goes back to eating and I’m glad I can’t see him. Sounds like his snout is deep in the trough. ‘You see, your brother-in-law is unhealthily curious about what goes on there. Seems to have a keen enough interest in farming that he’s been asking people about it for months. He hasn’t gone as far as trespassing like you did, but he is behaving in a very bloody intrusive manner. And I’m going to have to insist he stick his nose somewhere else.’

I have no idea how to respond to this. If Mark is investigating that commune, it’s news to me.

‘So what’s going to happen,’ Doyle swallows, ‘is that I’m going to offer you a deal. And it’s a good one, so you’ll say yes. See, I’m not exactly sure how you and your sister – maybe your father – are involved in this woman’s death. But you are. I don’t have evidence but I’ve been doing this long enough to trust my gut. I’m prepared to drop the whole thing, and say she had car trouble, blew a tyre, skidded off the road, alone and unaided, if you get your brother-in-law to stay away from Eumundi and anyone involved with that place. Got that?’