‘No killer behaves normally over time. If you look for what’s strange, uncommon, unusual, they’ll usually reveal themselves.’

‘I see…’ Onions said warily. Sweat pimpled on his upper lip.

Manolis again consulted his notebook. ‘Out of interest, what interactions do your staff have with the townspeople?’

Onions pressed his hands together, forming a steeple with his long fingers.

‘Well I encourage my employees to mix with local residents as much as they can. I think it engenders a sense of community, connection and belonging. But it’s always been difficult given the irregular hours they work, shifts and the like. And given recent events, I know that many of my staff now feel very uncomfortable socialising with the locals. They’re blamed for some of the events here.’

‘Events?’ asked Manolis.

Onions shifted in his seat, the chair squeaking beneath his weight. ‘Riots, protests,’ he said plainly.

‘And I understand the detainees are allowed to move around town.’

‘Only at certain times of day. It’s a way of gradually integrating them into the community, and the country. The children attend the local school, the parents shop at local businesses. Normal life, in other words.’

‘When is the curfew?’

‘Ten o’clock each night.’

‘Is there a record of exits and entries?’

‘Yes, a logbook, and also CCTV footage. We’ve got fixed cameras at the front. And in emergency situations, our guards wear portable cameras to cover all bases.’

Manolis sat forward, straightening his back. He had the manager on side now.

‘I’d like to see the logbook and security footage. I want to see if anyone was absent last Friday night.’

‘Of course, I’ll make sure they’re available ASAP. We do the daily muster and head count at seven o’clock, right before breakfast.’

‘Thank you. Are people often out all night?’

‘Not usually, but it happens. It’s a condition of their detention that they don’t break curfew.’

‘And what happens if they do?

Onions paused, his mouth as tight as wire. ‘Suffice to say, we restrict their freedom of movement. They also jeopardise their application for a protection visa to stay in Australia, which is, I imagine, a much worse consequence.’ His voice had zero emotion.

The manager’s words settled in the room a moment, dropping the temperature a degree. Manolis wanted to ask about the level of restrictiveness of movement, and what happened if detainees were caught rioting. He also wanted to ask if Onions or any of his staff ever borrowed or stole underwear from the laundry.

In the end, Manolis decided to curtail his curiosity and stick to the case.

‘Where were you the night Molly died?’

The manager looked at him with shock and disbelief.

‘This is a standard question I ask of everyone,’ Manolis added calmly.

Onions wiped a broad hand across his mouth before replying. Manolis was surprised to hear that he admitted being at the detention centre all night.