The cop breathes in, displaying great patience. ‘I don’t think she could recall the exact date she saw Mrs Mallory.’

‘It was a few days before her tenth birthday. Doesn’t that narrow it down?’

‘Do you remember the days running up to your tenth birthday?’

Isla leans forward across the desk to relieve the ache in her limbs. Her toes sink into her wet boots. ‘Mandy told Andrea she was going to Marlo. Andrea got a kitten for her tenth birthday a few days later, and named it Marlo. She must have had that cat for twenty years.’

‘I don’t think there’s a mention of her cat in the case notes.’

Isla looks pointedly at Sergeant Dent until she stops smiling. ‘So you’re not accepting Andrea’s evidence?’

‘We have evidence Mrs Mallory is alive. Whether she went to Marlo or somewhere else is irrelevant.’

‘You’re prepared to accept Mandy withdrew that cash from the Commonwealth Bank in ’68?’

‘I have no reason to question that.’

‘Did you check it out yourself?’

‘No.’ Sergeant Dent shifts her weight from one foot to the other.

‘Mandy didn’t withdraw that money.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘She didn’t have a job. She had no money of her own. It’s unlikely she had joint access to her husband’s bank account.’ Isla straightens up. She thinks of her mother, standing in the rain. ‘I think Steve Mallory’s lying.’

‘The case is closed.’ There is hesitation in her voice. A chime of doubt.

‘I’m sure your case notes are very thorough,’ Isla says. ‘I’m sure there’s a record of that withdrawal. And a confirmation from the bank that it was a joint account.

Sergeant Dent presses her lips together. The telephone rings in the office behind her. Someone laughs.

‘Shall I tell you something I found interesting in Mrs Mallory’s case notes?’ She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I typed up an interview with your father that took place a couple of weeks ago, after a body was found that appeared to match Mrs Mallory’s profile.’

‘It didn’t match her profile,’ Isla says.

‘But you’re aware of the interview that took place?’

‘Sure.’

‘Are you aware your father stated, before his lawyer intervened, that he had some memory loss around the time of Mrs Mallory’s disappearance, due to his alcoholism? He isn’t sure, on reflection, that Mrs Mallory went down to Victoria with her husband.’

Isla nods. She feels a rush of fear.

‘He has some recollection of being with Mrs Mallory in her home after her husband left. He admits he didn’t take it well when she lost interest in him. And he admits he had a spare key which he used to access her home uninvited.’

Isla steps back from the desk. She runs her hands through the gritty roots of her hair.

‘I imagine your father didn’t mention that to you.’

Isla shakes her head.

‘His lawyer stopped him, of course. We didn’t get a confession. And without a body it might be difficult to convict.’ She tilts her head. ‘Are you all right, Miss Green?’