Wozza looked embarrassed. ‘Jack might have told them about you. His mates will take one look at you and be antagonistic.’

I knew he was right. He dropped me back at the station and drove off.

A message pinged on my phone on the dot of 3 pm. Second chance coffee? Same place as yesterday? The number was Russell Mowbray’s; I’d added him to my contacts list after we spoke to him about Crystal. He must have got my number from the card I left him.

I needed to take my mind off what Wozza was doing. Sure, I texted back. I glanced at my watch, then grabbed my jacket. I texted Wozza. Heading out for coffee. I hoped in his reply, Wozza would update me on his search for anyone who’d seen Jack after the cliff incident.

My phone pinged with a response. I grabbed it and swiped the screen open.

Bring me back a pastry.

It’s easy to tell when a guy gets ready for a date. His hair is always a little too neat and his shirt a little too pressed. Russell looked exactly like that. I was flattered nonetheless that he’d gone to some trouble. Not that it was a date. I planned to pump him for information. The fact that he was very nice-looking and had kind dark eyes made no difference. Anyway, even if they did make a difference, for all I knew he could be a suspect in the murder of his brother-in-law and sister, so—

‘Antigone!’ Russell stood up as soon as I came in the door of the cafe. His voice was too loud and several other customers glanced our way. He suddenly looked deeply embarrassed and lowered his voice. ‘Or should I call you Detective Pollard?’

‘Antigone is fine,’ I said, smiling. ‘Sit down.’

Russell sat down again in the same armchair he’d had on Monday and I took its partner. The fire in the huge fireplace was crackling, radiating heat, and I held up my hands to warm them.

I nodded to Angie behind the counter. She knew my order. Then I turned to Russell. I didn’t mince words. ‘So Carmel Millard is off limits in discussion?’

He apologised again for the other day and looked resigned to explaining himself. ‘When I got Crystal, I had no idea how to be a parent. I was the fun uncle then, all of a sudden, I was in my early twenties and responsible for a traumatised four-year-old. I had to do the best I could. She didn’t understand what happened. One minute she had a mum and a dad, and the next minute she didn’t. I reckon she was about six when she asked what happened to her parents. I blurted out that they died in a car accident. Sometimes you just say stuff in the spur of the moment and then you’re stuck with the story.’