His expression doesn’t change, but a different energy runs through his eyes. ‘That didn’t impress me much. Nor did your paper’s coverage of the O’Brien saga today.’

‘Well, your press conference just now didn’t impress me much.’

He surprises her by laughing. ‘I guess we’re even.’

‘I have some new information,’ she says, feeling emboldened. ‘And some questions for you.’

Something skitters across his face: irritation, or grudging respect? ‘I’m happy to hear your theories, but as I said earlier at my underwhelming press conference, this might be a fairly straightforward case in the end. Not everything is a story.’

She ignores the subtle dig. ‘Can we talk now? I want to know if you found a computer at the Paradise Street house. There might have been something relevant to the case on it.’

He pulls at his nostrils. Clears his throat. ‘Like what?’

‘I’m hoping you will tell me.’

He glances at his watch, an old-fashioned timepiece with a few clock faces sitting inside the larger one. ‘We found two computers at the house. But there wasn’t anything on them that I think would be of interest to you.’

Undeterred, she ploughs on. ‘I just spoke to Mitchell Stanley, who had some interesting things to say about his daughter and her friends. Things I’m not sure your team ever looked into.’

Bowman snorts softly and looks at his watch again. ‘I have an event to get to shortly, and I can’t be late as I’m the keynote speaker. Tomorrow night should be fine, assuming everyone behaves themselves. The Lion & Ox on Exhibition. I’ll be there by five-thirty.’

‘I can’t tomorrow night,’ she manages, cursing the twins’ end of term swimming carnival. ‘What about Friday?’

He nods, looking amused. ‘Clearly this important conversation can wait until then.’

‘I’d rather speak with you now. I’ll keep it brief.’

‘Not possible, I’m afraid.’ He loops his thumbs into the belt holes of his trench coat, checks his phone and frowns. ‘Friday it is.’

‘Thank you, Chief Inspector,’ she breathes.

But Bowman is already walking away, his broad shoulders hunched.

Oli heads slowly in the opposite direction, her heartbeat dropping back to a normal rhythm. She isn’t sure how well that went, but a meeting’s a meeting. Her phone rings again: Cooper. ‘Any luck out there?’ she asks.

‘Oli.’ His voice is subdued, missing its usual perkiness.

‘What? What is it?’

‘I’ve spoken to heaps of people, but right now I’m with a bunch of cops up here, and they’ve just got a call about a Subaru turning up in Warrandyte.’

‘Has it been dumped?’

‘It’s at the bottom of the Yarra River.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN