‘Well, we’ll have to see about that.’ Bowman’s baritone is authoritative as always, but Oli senses he’s unsure. His normally stony face has softened, and he glances from her to the house.

‘You need to find Nicole.’ Oli’s chest heaves, her cheeks burn. She fights an urge to scream into the night.

Bowman nods slowly. He eases his hands into his coat pockets and looks up at the stars. ‘I appreciate your urgency, Ms Groves, but this is a criminal investigation and we need to take things slowly.’

‘Fuck that,’ mutters Oli.

He doesn’t reply, just looks at her.

She explodes. ‘I mean, come on! What are you waiting for? How can you stand it, not knowing the answers? It’s unbearable.’ She reels around blindly, almost losing her balance on the edge of the small porch. Her sadness is heavy, both rising up and bearing down.

‘I’m sorry about your colleague,’ Bowman says bluntly. ‘I know what that’s like.’

Against her will, Oli’s face twists.

‘Were you at home with your family last night?’

She shakes her head. ‘No,’ she murmurs. ‘They’re away. I was at work until Rusty called to tell me about Cooper.’

Bowman clears his throat.

‘What?’ she asks.

‘This is bigger than you know.’

She turns slowly to face him again. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He sighs. ‘I think you should head home.’

‘Cooper thought there was a link between the housemates and Louise Carter, you know.’

Bowman’s expression doesn’t change. ‘Do you know what made him think that?’

Oli pictures Isabelle’s handwriting in the diaries. ‘I don’t know.’

Bowman lifts his head and looks back at the sky. ‘Good intentions aside, it’s not helpful when people who have no information try to connect dots that aren’t there. There is a lot of information you don’t have.’

‘I don’t care what Nicole told her sister. Those girls, they were all involved in something bad. It wasn’t just Alex.’ She pauses, catches her breath. ‘Did you think there was a link between the housemates and Louise Carter?’

He glances inside. Scratches his head. ‘I’ll give you an exclusive, give you a quote, but I want you to hold off for a few hours. Let us have a chance to work through this mess.’

‘Until when?’ she counters. She can’t get anything in print tomorrow now anyway—a few hours exclusive online is probably the best she can expect at this point.

‘How does midday sound?’ He coughs.

A possum rustles the leaves of a nearby tree, and they both look in its direction.

‘No, earlier,’ says Oli. ‘How about 9 am?’