‘Dad eventually came here as a migrant to a new land, not a refugee returning to an old one like Papou. Both were fleeing war or the effects of war, like the asylum seekers are today. But there’s a difference. Unlike migrants, refugees have no choice. And yet, the treatment my dad received was exactly the same as what was given to my grandfather – distrust, fear, “go back to your own country”. You’ve got invasion and genocide coursing through your veins, young Sparrow, and rightly so. But these are the experiences, the history, which I have in mine.’

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

THIS TIME, ONIONS met Manolis at the front gate. Sparrow remained at the station, his swollen face making love to a packet of frozen peas, rapidly thawing and dripping.

‘Good morning, Detective,’ Onions chirped. ‘I trust you slept well.’

Manolis grunted. ‘When you wake up, it’s a good sleep.’

Onions smiled salesman teeth, unnaturally white. ‘I agree. I wake up every day and thank the Lord for the gift of life and this wonderful, safe country.’

‘Hmm, yes.’

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I was receiving my daily sitrep.’

Manolis closed an eye in thought. It sounded like an exercise routine.

‘Situation report,’ Onions explained. ‘It’s an executive summary of all major incidents in the preceding twenty-four hours – adverse events, missed meals, behavioural management, that kind of thing. Fortunately, today is a good day.’ He again bared his teeth.

The logbook and CCTV footage from the night Molly died had been retrieved.

‘As it turns out, we actually had two people break curfew on Friday,’ Onions said, offering the thick, ink-stained notebook.

‘Sorry, two people?’

Manolis remembered the number of individuals that Searle claimed he’d seen with Molly on the Friday afternoon, and consulted his notes to recall their physical appearance.

‘It’s more common on weekends,’ Onions said.

From what Manolis had seen, there was very little distinction between weekdays and weekends in Cobb.

‘And you say you had a staff party on Friday night?’

‘Yes, due to changeover. But the gate was manned, always with two security guards.’

Manolis examined the logbook and was then shown the CCTV footage in a darkened back room. Due to the quality of the cameras, the images were of limited use. Faces were poor resolution and in variable light. He questioned the cauliflowereared guard on duty at the time; he confirmed the time of the entries in the book, then corroborated the grainy footage. It was only when he paid more careful attention to the names of the two detainees who had broken curfew that his eyes grew large. The names were distinctive alongside one another and masculine. His pulse sped up in the hollow of his throat.

‘I’d like to ask these two individuals to come down to the station for official questioning,’ he said to Onions.