As Stacey and Paula sat together on the beach that day, Stacey had said, ‘Cameron’s a tender-hearted boy.’ Then she laughed. ‘Am I allowed to say that about my own kid?’

‘Yes, you are,’ Paula answered firmly. ‘He’s spectacular.’

‘I mean, I know he has the anxiety problem,’ Stacey continued, ‘but he also has this lovely urge to look after people. I like to think maybe some good things have come out of what he’s been through.’ She then did a grimace of desperation. ‘Please agree with me, Paula, so I don’t keep tormenting myself that I’ve damaged my kids forever.’

Paula wrapped her sunblock-greasy arms around her friend. ‘You’re a fantastic mother, Stace. And Cam’s a beautiful, caring, empathetic kid. You’ll all be okay.’

The memory of Cameron dragged Paula’s mind back to Ruby—the girl’s worried face, the steadfast way she looked after her brother. Paula couldn’t bear to think she’d left Ruby at risk in that house. She needed to know how dangerous the father was, how worried she should be. The need to know for sure grew more and more desperate—however illogical the impulse was—until it consumed her.

Finally, at seven a.m. Paula appealed to the one person she could think of to help.

She sent a text. Hi. Paula Kaczmarek here. Okay if I call you now?

Rohan Mehta phoned her immediately.

‘Hi, Paula. How are you?’

‘I’m okay. Thanks for calling back, Rohan. I was hoping—please say if this is inappropriate. I’m hoping you could find out … If I give you a name and address, can you look up police records and check if a person is dangerous? If a guy has a record of violence?’

‘Oh. Uh … I can certainly look someone up on the system but it’s not okay for me to give out information like that.’

‘No, no, you don’t have to tell me stuff if you’re not allowed. If you could check and make sure this guy’s family aren’t at risk or … just check if he’s likely to hurt them. Look, I’ll give you the name and address and you do whatever you think is right.’

TWENTY-ONE

ANITA WAS STEPPING OUT OF THE SHOWER WHEN SHE SAW her phone light up with a text from Rohan. She figured it would be one of his now-regular messages checking she was okay. She wrapped a towel around herself and reached for the phone.

The text read: Just had a strange call from Paula. Ring me.

Fear whooshed through Anita’s body as if she’d been sluiced with a bucket of icy water. Had Paula phoned to tell Detective Mehta she murdered two men?

She quickly dressed and steadied herself before she rang back.

He picked up immediately. ‘Hi. How are you?’