‘I don’t think he has anything to do with it,’ I rushed to say. ‘He’s a nice guy. We knew he took the photos and apparently he was teaching at the time.’

‘A paedophile can appear to be a nice guy,’ Marty snapped at me.

Rearing back, I shook my head. The police officers had been so careful not to say that word around me but my husband was almost shouting it in my face.

‘No, not Brendan. He’s interested in snowboarding.’

I should have told him about the other issue first. Now he was distracted. As Marty started to ask more about the schoolteacher I cut him off.

‘Marty, listen to me.’ I glanced up at the nearby police officers and lowered my voice. ‘They know.’

His whole body slumped in the chair, his face grey, dark half-moons under his eyes.

‘I guess it was only a matter of time,’ he said, sighing.

‘But we have to make sure they keep looking properly.’

He nodded.

‘I think Caruso is going to talk to Nurse Natalie tonight.’

We exchanged a look. That vile woman was still in Canberra, camped out somewhere near Parliament House. As soon as the police had spoken to her, she would contact the media. Again.

The police coordinators were harnessing the community support and had mapped out a plan for the night. Imogen had been replaced by her husband; the muscular soldier looked at ease speaking with the police and emergency services personnel. Lucas seemed the sort of bloke who gave orders to his men and expected the outcome to be exactly as he had commanded. I wondered how Imogen dealt with that. Did he give orders to her too? Unlike the other mums, Imogen didn’t complain about Lucas—the only concern she’d mentioned lately was that he wanted another baby.

The search was going further afield, sending groups into the nearby suburbs of Duffy, Fisher and Waramanga. Marty decided we’d join the search team in Duffy. That suburb was closer to our house than the others. The top side of Duffy led off to the ridge and the horse paddocks which eventually linked up with Merrigang. The SES had already been behind our house on foot and a helicopter had swooped low over the trees.

I pulled on a coat and ignored the sandwich someone offered me. As we opened the door to the little playground, the cool air whipped against my cheeks.

‘What’s going on over there?’ Marty pointed beyond the black fence, decorated with teddies.

Clusters of people with torches stood around in small groups, ready to help with the search. But further over, a softer light created a halo effect in the night air. A large circle of parents and children holding candles. Among the general hubbub of people talking, I could make out a sweet hymn.

‘Can you hear the singing?’ I asked Marty. ‘It’s beautiful.’