‘He kept something that belonged to her.’ Louisa reaches down beside her, into her handbag. ‘He admitted this belonged to Mandy.’

The cop turns a page in his notebook. There is an eagerness in his face as he looks up, a suggestion of a smile. Isla wants to turn the table over. She grips the underside of the chair until her fingers hurt.

‘I found it a few months ago,’ Louisa says. She glances at Isla for the first time as she sets the watch down on the table. She has the bright-eyed look of the tattletale, the teacher’s pet. ‘Joe kept it hidden at the back of a drawer.’

‘And you’re sure this belonged to Mrs Mallory?’ He looks over his glasses at the watch.

‘Quite sure,’ Louisa says. She sips her tea. ‘I remember Steve – her husband – gave it to her for Christmas, shortly before we went to England.’

He writes this down, taking his time. ‘This is very helpful, Mrs Green.’ He takes a plastic glove from his pocket and uses it to put the watch into a specimen bag. ‘I’ll need to take this with me, of course.’

Louisa nods. The colour has gone from her face. ‘I don’t suppose you can prove it belonged to Mandy,’ she says.

Inspector Perry removes his glasses, leaving deep grooves in the side of his head. ‘You might be surprised. A lot of cases are being reopened from twenty or thirty years ago, now that DNA profiling has moved on. All it takes it a strand of hair, or the residue of sweat.’ He nods at the specimen bag. ‘Or a drop of blood.’

Louisa covers her mouth with her hand.

‘There’s no evidence that my dad and Mandy had an affair,’ Isla says. The Inspector looks at her in surprise. ‘My dad hasn’t admitted to that.’

‘I think I’ve taken up enough of your time.’ He goes to stand.

‘What about Steve Mallory? Mandy’s husband.’

The Inspector pauses, half out of his chair. ‘What about him?’

‘Have you questioned him?’

‘I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid.’ He puts his glasses back on. ‘I need to get going.’

‘Is he still with the police?’

Her mother stares at her. The Inspector’s radio hisses at his belt.

Isla stands. ‘Do you know him? He was a cop when he lived next door to us.’

‘Mr Mallory no longer works for the police force,’ the cop says.

Louisa puts her hands flat on the table and goes to stand. ‘I’ll show you out,’ she says.

‘One more thing.’ Isla stands in the doorway, blocking his path. ‘Why is an Inspector involved in a missing person’s case?’

He looks down at Isla with huge impatience. ‘Mrs Mallory’s case is not straightforward.’

‘Is this a murder enquiry?’

‘We have a large number of records on file in New South Wales. Deceased persons who have never been identified, some of whom died in suspicious circumstances. It’s possible one of them is Mrs Mallory.’