‘How do you have that?’ said Con, taking it from her. ‘This is evidence. It should be with Forensics.’

‘It’s not the one from Bree’s body. Madison brought this to Eliza’s house today. She accused her of putting it in her room, but Eliza had never seen one before.’

Eliza Ellis appeared at the door. ‘Can I come in now?’

Con swore, clutching his towel. He grabbed his clothes off the floor and fled into the bathroom to change. When he came out in a white button-up, grey slacks and bare feet, the two women were sitting on his bed.

Eliza studied Con, expectant.

‘Look, Eliza, I’m sorry for lying about Cierra being found,’ he said.

‘I don’t forgive you. It was a cheap trick.’

‘No worse than covering for Tom,’ shot back Con. He sat in the chair by the desk.

‘That’s in the past now,’ said Gabriella. ‘We need to work together. I think Jasmine Murphy is still alive, and she’s in Limestone Creek. If Denni made these statues as protection, who else would have them but her friends? I’m sure it was Jasmine – she must have put it in Madison’s room.’

‘Wouldn’t it make more sense for it to be Bree?’

‘Only Jasmine or Georgia would have the foresight to go against Madison,’ said Eliza. ‘Given what Madison has on all of the girls – the nude photos, her influence with her YouTube channel – it would be a way to mess with her head. Madison’s all about the head games and power, right? Why not gaslight her? Disappear, using Madison’s own plot, but then pretend to go really missing, pretend the Hungry Man really did take them. Make Madison admit everything to her followers, put all her guilt on display.

‘Jasmine has always had a keen sense of justice – you should see her arguing with me whenever I give her or any of her friends detention. She’ll make a good lawyer one day,’ said Eliza.

‘But why would Bree have one of the statues?’ said Con. ‘I don’t accept the idea that all four of those girls believed in the Hungry Man.’

‘You’re not from around here, Con,’ said Eliza. ‘You don’t understand what it’s like, living in the shadow of these mountains, the 1985 disappearances.’

‘Yes, thank you, Eliza. I am by now keenly aware that I am not Tasmanian, nor do I live in Limestone Creek. Although I’d bet I’m having a pretty authentic experience . . .’

Con’s phone buzzed. It was Murphy calling. He answered instantly.

‘I’m out the front of the Inn. I need to talk to you.’ Something seemed wrong – Murphy’s voice was too flat. ‘I brought Madison’s USB drive.’

‘What’s happened?’ said Con.

‘Come let me in the side door. I’ll show you.’

‘Eliza and Gabriella are here.’

‘I don’t care, let me in.’