‘And if we don’t?’ Marty squared up to Caruso. ‘Will you get a search warrant and do it anyway?’

The detective nodded in reply.

From the beginning, I had placed my faith in this man. He had a no-nonsense air of professionalism. And now he had turned on me.

‘Do you honestly think I’ve done something to Bella?’ I threw the words at him. ‘You believe all those lies in the media?’

‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Parker. It’s a difficult time. We’re trying to cover off every possibility.’

‘I love my child. You’re supposed to be finding her not attacking us.’

‘Just get it over and done with,’ Marty bellowed at the policeman. ‘Quickly. Then get on with finding our daughter.’

Caruso left the room, our anger trailing after him. She’s not here! I wanted to scream it over and over. Stop wasting time. She’s out there somewhere in the big bad world. Please find her for me. Please.

Marty put his arm around me but I couldn’t sit still. I leapt up and paced behind the couch, the anger and fear rocketing through my body. How long was this search going to take?

After twenty minutes, Caruso was back.

‘Dr Parker, can you please give me the key to the locked door on this floor?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Marty said. ‘We don’t have any locked doors.’

‘A downstairs study perhaps?’ Caruso guessed.

‘It’s not locked. Just push harder.’

So Marty hadn’t noticed. I guess he had no reason to go into that room. Five weeks ago, before Victoria came, I’d organised the locksmith. The thought of those teenage girls—or anyone else—in my special place had made me feel sick.

‘There’s definitely a lock on it, Dr Parker,’ Caruso said. ‘Recently installed by the look of it.’

35 CARUSO

35

CARUSO

AFTER THE CALL ABOUT THE SHOE THAT MORNING, ADRENALINE HAD fired through him. Caruso had been certain it would lead them to Bella’s whereabouts. Instead, it led to more questions. Police had used cadaver dogs around the church. Nothing. The persons of interest list had reached twenty-nine—some were paedophiles who didn’t have alibis. The one who lived in Acacia Drive, Johnno James, swore he’d been working on a building site in Mitchell that day, but his boss couldn’t verify it. Apparently, Johnno didn’t always turn up to work. And they’d found no electronic records for him on that side of town. But Caruso had to tread carefully with Johnno; the convicted paedophile had lodged a complaint about ‘police harassment’ before.