‘What about an exploding tree says right track to you?’

‘Intrigue; very ominous. Good things.’

‘Then what do we start with?’ Ellis asks. ‘If those are all the mysteries. Where do we start?’

‘I want to talk to Frank again,’ I say. ‘Or talk to someone who knows something about him.’

‘Do you really think he could have done something?’

I chew on the thought. ‘That’s what’s weird. I asked him, when I was fake-interrogating, if around the time of Roxy’s disappearance he’d seen anyone on the ferry who could have been her, and he was about to say no. If you were guilty and needed a reason for people to think you’re not, wouldn’t you say you think you might have seen her on the ferry?’

‘Yeah. You’re right.’

‘He still creeps me out, either way,’ I say. ‘And, Lenore.’

‘What did Frank say about her? That they fought?’

‘Apparently. If they’re both musicians, it could have been jealousy? Competition over jobs? He mentioned Lenore taking over Roxy’s slot at the Indigo while Roxy was pregnant; that’s a motive. Either way, it would be helpful to speak to someone who can set the scene, at the time. We should pay Lenore a visit.’

‘We? I don’t know. I think it’s working out fine now, where you’re the upfront abrasive one and I n-n-never talk to anyone ever.’

I still feel there’s something Ellis isn’t saying and I need his confidence that we act as a team. This separation of duty wouldn’t be anywhere near conducive to that – he needs to feel like he’s on the frontlines as well. ‘You should be there. What if something goes wrong and I need backup?’

He smiles. ‘I don’t know what kind of backup I’d be.’

‘More importantly, I’m sure there’re things about all this that you know and I don’t.’ Gently, upfront – I know you’re keeping things from me. I had pegged him as transparent as a window but I am coming to terms now with the fact that I was wrong, and I feel bad continuously badgering; not just bad, but unwise to badger continuously. I can’t lose his trust. Trust me, says the snake with the apple. Trust me, says the girl with a tape recorder in her pocket. Pang of guilt. It’s for the best.

Ellis casts his gaze downward.

‘And maybe you can catch her in a lie. Or maybe you have some genetic connection. Or even something your mom said, something Mary Anne said – anything might jog your memory. Right?’

‘Yeah.’

There’s something about the night that tells me I can say more, I can push him a little further, so I do. ‘You can tell me stuff, you know.’