‘Hi, Pat. How’s your mum?’ she asked, stepping back to allow both men into the foyer.

‘Yeah, doing okay. But, while we’re here today it’s Constable Murphy, okay?’

Charlotte rolled her eyes in apparent delight. ‘Sure, Cont-stable Murphy.’

‘Charlie. Come on.’

‘Oh, all right. Come in. Mum and Dad are in their room watching TV … do you want to talk to them too?’

Murphy raised an eyebrow at Jake.

‘I’d like to talk with you first,’ he answered. ‘Then perhaps your parents later?’

Charlotte shrugged and beckoned them down the hallway. ‘We’ll use the lounge room then.’

If the MacDonald household had been a study in shabby antique, the Murphy home was modern, light and bright, and filled with cornflower blue paintings and ceramics.

‘Fire away,’ Charlotte said as they took up seats on a set of oversized, white faux-leather couches surrounding a glass-topped coffee table.

‘Charlie!’ said Murphy.

‘It’s just our little joke, detective,’ she said winking at Jake and miming pulling a trigger. ‘We’re always making fun of Pat.’

‘I’ll have to remember that,’ Jake said, deadpan. ‘If it’s okay with you, can we make a start?’

‘Sure.’ She crossed her legs and began twitching the foot that hung in the air.

‘We’re trying to piece together Ava O’Brien’s last few hours. When was the last time you saw her?’

Charlotte’s face dulled with sadness. ‘Poor Ms O’Brien, so sad what happened to her.’

‘Did you ever call her Ava?’

‘Always Ms O’Brien.’

‘When was the last time you saw her?’

‘I usually drop in for a cuppa Tuesdays on my way home from work.’

‘And what did you talk about this past Tuesday?’

‘The usual, I guess. Funny customers who come to my work, her quilt-making, that kind of thing.’ Charlotte leant forward and crossed her arms over her thigh. ‘It’s never about anything in particular.’

‘Where were you between ten p.m. Thursday night and eight a.m. Friday morning?

‘Thursday night … I had the morning shift on Friday, so I guess I went to bed about eleven, then got up at seven and got ready for work.’

‘Can anyone verify that?’

‘I mean … Mum and Dad were here too, but they do their own thing and we’re in different parts of the house, so we can’t really hear each other unless we shout.’

‘Charlie,’ Murphy said, ‘this is important. Is there any way you can prove you were here last Thursday night?’

‘Come on, Pat, you don’t think I had anything to do with this do you?’

Jake interrupted to ensure the interview remained professional. ‘Please, Miss Murphy, just answer the question.’

She leant back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Why would I hurt Ms O’Brien?’

‘What was your relationship with her like?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Good. We were friends.’

‘Did you think of her as a parent?’

‘Well … she was all we had when we were little, so I loved her like a mother. But she never let us call her Mum or anything.’