Sitting back against the chair, she looks over at Cooper’s scrawled notes. Doubt grips her. If Nicole took Louise in 2005, where did she hide the little girl the month before she disappeared? Not the Paradise Street house—even if Alex and Evelyn were involved, it would have been impossible to conceal a one-year-old from Miles and the neighbours for over three weeks. Unless Louise was drugged, perhaps. But why would Nicole take her?

Oli presses her fingertips into the arches of her eyebrows. Julian McCrae went to Cara’s house last Friday, that much is certain.

Just before Oli shuts her laptop, she notices the Melbourne Today home page is advertising a new episode of the Housemate podcast. The second episode is live. The last thing she and Cooper worked on together. She bolts from the room before the tears take hold.

The McCraes’ double-storey terrace looks enchanted in the early morning light. Insects create a pretty haze across the small square of lawn, and ivy ripples gently at the eaves. Oli presses hard on the doorbell and glances nervously behind her. She’s hedging her bets that the cops won’t come calling here until later this morning, once changeover has happened and Bowman has had some sleep. A rustle inside makes it clear that she has woken the McCraes, and she braces herself for a confrontation.

Julian opens the door, Diana behind him. A repeat of the scene from yesterday—god, was it only yesterday?—but this time the couple are bleary-eyed, hair matted, dressing-gowns thrown over flannel pyjamas.

‘Oh.’ Julian looks both surprised and defeated.

Diana’s small face puckers with nerves.

‘Sorry,’ Oli says. ‘I’m sorry, but can I please come in? It’s important.’

A beat goes by, but she can tell they will acquiesce. It seems they don’t have the energy to turn her away, perhaps sensing the inevitability of what is to come.

Diana ushers Hugo ahead of her into an airy kitchen. ‘Coffee?’

‘Yes, please,’ Oli says.

The house is stunning, a perfect alchemy of glossy textures. Tasteful art adorns the walls, flowers bursting from perfectly positioned vases. The kitchen looks out across a light-grey courtyard to a garden studio weighed down by ivy. A sparrow dips in and out of a sculpted bird bath, framed perfectly in the window.

Oli runs a finger under each eye, adjusts her coat. She must look awful.

Diana busies herself in the kitchen, and Julian watches her before his gaze drifts to Oli. ‘Have a seat,’ he says formally.

They sit opposite each other, waiting for Diana. She places a steaming mug down in front of Oli, hands her husband an espresso cup. They sip their drinks in unison. Oli puts hers on the coffee table, while Diana and Julian cling to theirs, eyes huge.

‘Nicole Horrowitz has been in Melbourne this past week,’ Oli says. ‘But you both already know that.’

Diana’s mouth falls open. Julian doesn’t move.