It’s what Oli is thinking too, but could someone have snuck onto the property with cops everywhere?

‘Are you heading back?’ she asks Mud.

‘Yeah.’ He scratches his crotch and squints into the smoky sun. ‘My lady has her own wheels. I need to get back to the office and start sorting out this shit.’ He gestures to the camera slung over his shoulder, then looks skyward again. ‘You need a lift back to the city?’ ‘Um, no, thanks. I drove.’ Oli says goodbye to Mud and makes her way to the front gate.

Cooper texts her a bunch of photos he’s taken from further up the mountain. The dark-grey nest of smoke looks like a mistake in the middle of the greenery. A chopper shot would be better, but they’re not bad, and she writes back that he should send them in.

She reaches the end of the driveway, where the smoke is slightly thicker. There are fewer people around than before, many of them in uniform. A handful of reporters mill about, gunning for interviews and doing their grabs, but she guesses most have headed back to the city. The firefighters are packing up as well.

Bowman is sitting on the back step of an ambulance, looking furious. His coughs evolve into a splutter, but he waves away a paramedic’s offer of a water bottle. A few metres away, Rusty talks into his phone, a dirty smudge on his face. He winces at the paramedic applying a bandage to his hand.

‘Rusty!’ Oli calls out.

He lifts his gaze, indicates that he’s fine with a swift gesture.

She slides her eyes back to Bowman, who has stopped coughing and is getting to his feet. He looks so vulnerable that she feels embarrassed—it’s almost like seeing him naked.

‘Excuse me, Chief Inspector,’ she says, approaching him. ‘Were you in the house when the fire started? Are you injured?’

‘I’m not injured,’ he replies firmly.

‘Can you tell me what happened?’

He doesn’t reply but stares at her. Up close she can see grime in his pores. She remembers his shattered expression at Isabelle’s funeral as he delivered an emotional tribute, standing next to a large photo of the slain detective. Not for the first time, Oli wonders how close they were, whether she confided in him.

Bowman pulls his gaze away and starts walking, heavy-footed but at a surprisingly fast pace.

Oli rushes to keep up. ‘Has the fire destroyed the house?’

He holds a hand out as if to silence her. ‘We’ll give a statement once we have more information.’

‘I know she had a kid,’ Oli blurts. ‘A little girl.’

He grimaces. ‘Are you running with that?’

His stare is cool, and goose bumps break out on Oli’s arms. ‘We plan to. I have enough to speculate.’

‘Right.’ He turns from her and keeps walking.