‘But before that, I want to have a vigil for our friend who can’t be named. Everyone who’s watching this, everyone who cares: bring your candles, your flowers, and your prayers, and meet me at the school. We’ll walk from there to the bottom of the trail and then to the top of the cliff where she fell. Please, no photos of her, and don’t say her name, out of respect to her family. And thank you as you continue to search for my sister, and my friends, who I may have lost forever. I promise, I’ll apologise personally to each and every one of you.’

Madison broke down. Even Murphy, who was trying to block out the sound of Butch’s incredulous cursing beside him, almost felt sorry for Madison in that moment.

Almost.

She was a good actress.

‘We’ll meet at Limestone Creek District School. I hope you all know while the school has been closed since the disappearance, it’s providing free counselling for any students who want it, and will continue to do so for the rest of the week. We’ll meet at the school at seven o’clock – that’s one hour from now – and make the short walk together,’ continued Madison. ‘Come and join us, as we light a candle for our friend.

‘Love you all.’

Butch exploded. ‘She planned it? Jasmine meant to go missing?’

‘Looks like it,’ said Murphy woodenly.

‘So she might be okay, lad! She might be safe!’

‘Except that Georgia is dead.’

‘But if Jasmine was close to Georgia, she might be at this vigil tonight!’

Murphy’s heart lurched. He hadn’t thought about that. Everyone would be there – locals, strangers, media, police – so she would be keeping a low profile, but she would want to go for Georgia.

‘Look . . . this might sound paranoid, but I don’t think we should go together,’ said Butch. ‘Or at least, I think you should call your new cop buddy, see if he’ll take you. That way it’s all above board, no one can say you had anything to do with anything.’

Murphy paused, but he couldn’t deny the wisdom. ‘You’re right, bro. I’ll call Con.’

CHAPTER 37

ELIZA

Gabriella parked her car on the side of the mountain road, in a gravel pull-off. Invisible in the night was a secret path, known only to a few, that linked up with the trail from the school, a short five minute walk to the Hanging Tree.

‘We don’t have to do this right now,’ said Gabriella.

‘No,’ said Eliza. ‘We do.’

The two women headed into the trees, following the path. Although it was well into the evening, the sky was still just about light, Daylight Savings and the southern extremity of Tasmania keeping the night alight.

Eliza inhaled the cold peat-bark smell of bush, the wet-gravel spice.

All she could think about was Madison Mason.