‘Hold him still, Gabriella,’ said Murphy. He squared up to Carl. ‘Listen to me, kid. My daughter is missing. She’s dead for all I know. What does the Kundela Game have to do with Madison and Jasmine? Tell me.’

‘It has nothing to do with Jasmine,’ said Carl.

‘So what is it to Madison?’ said Murphy. He pulled the Glock from the back of his belt and pressed it up against Carl’s chin. ‘Tell me everything.’

‘Hey, hey, hey!’ shouted Gabriella.

‘What the hell, Murphy,’ said Con. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless that he hadn’t taken the gun from Murphy after the situation at Eliza’s house.

‘I have nothing else to lose,’ said Murphy without emotion. He peered into Carl’s eyes, who had gone still. ‘I don’t mind going to jail for killing anyone who gets between Jasmine and me.’ He pressed the gun harder against Carl’s chin.

Murphy’s bluffing, Con realised, and he put out a hand to stop Gabriella from disarming him.

Carl hesitated. ‘It was . . . it was Bree who told me about it . . . me and her were a bit of a thing.’

‘You were dating?’ said Gabriella.

‘Shh,’ said Con, ‘let him finish.’

‘Don’t shoosh me, Con. You’re not in charge anymore,’ snapped Gabriella. ‘Relationships are important.’

‘Bree said Madison had some kind of . . . I dunno, freaky spiritual shit going on’, said Carl. ‘Madison reckoned she’d found a spirit guide, “Kundela”, who could show her the way through portals on what she called the Sacred Cliff. The girls started having these weird nightmares and all that. Bree and Denni both came to me. Because I’m Aboriginal they thought I’d know what was going on – but my sister wouldn’t have a bar of it. It’s all bullshit, obviously. There’s the kundela bones, but not bloody portals: there’s nothing Aboriginal in it. At all. But they must have got in my head, because I started getting the nightmares too. I was so pissed off, because this stupid white girl was using our history for her psych hippie shit . . .’

‘And then?’ said Murphy.

‘Madison said Kundela asked her to start the game. There’s this website she made. You put in your details and you send . . . you have to send Madison a nude, and then you get your first dare. They start off simple – going the night without sleep, burning a hundred-dollar note – and then they start getting bigger, like shoplifting, or . . . burning bigger stuff.’ He snuck a glance down at Murphy’s gun.

Con could feel the tingle of new connections, new theories. ‘Keep talking, Carl.’