Yesterday, I looked through the CCTV at the Gun Alley Nightclub with Senior Detective Pollard. We located the woman in question as she entered the club on Sunday, 31 December, in the company of two other women. Camera 4 tracked their arrival at 10.37 pm. Camera 7 shows her at the bar ordering drinks at 10.44 pm. Camera 3 shows her at 10.50 pm dancing with a man, known to the nightclub as Noah Shepherd. Noah is a frequent patron. At 10.54 pm, Noah leads the woman away from the dance floor. She stumbles as they leave and appears intoxicated. At 11.16 pm, she reappears in the frame of Camera 3. She is alone. She has a brief conversation with her two friends and they depart the club. I’ve provided copies of the relevant recordings as requested through the search warrant.

CHAPTER 5: JUSTICE IS BLIND

CHAPTER 5

JUSTICE IS BLIND

I arrived at the station at seven o’clock on Thursday morning. The couple of hours of sleep I’d had was broken each time I jerked awake, remembering Gemma, and remembering for a second how I was before the case got under my skin and changed everything. Remembering who I was. On my early-morning run with Waffles, I had wondered if any of us could go back to what we were—or did each thing that happened make us new people, forever shaped a little differently? If that was the case, then Gemma was part of me forever. After Melbourne, I had hoped a country posting would be less tainted with memories. It seemed I’d been fooling myself.

Wozza yawned then sipped a takeaway coffee as we walked to the unmarked detectives’ car. ‘Didn’t get my quota of beauty sleep last night,’ he said.

I glanced at my colleague. ‘Yeah, you might have to cancel your photo shoot for the policemen’s calendar.’

Wozza looked down at his generous middle, covered with a wrinkled shirt underneath a police polar fleece jacket. ‘I wish,’ he said. He pulled some paperwork out of a folder and checked the address. All signed and good to go.

‘How’s Randall?’ I asked.

‘He came a cropper in the chase. Intruder: 1, Randall: 0.’

‘Is he okay?’

‘He’s sporting a prize-winning graze down the side of his face and his elbows will never be the same, but he’s okay. The main thing is Jack Barratt’s place is secure. Randall chased the guy away before he could get in.’ Wozza paused. ‘Could be the same bloke who followed you last night,’ he said.

‘Maybe.’ I wasn’t sure. Gut feeling was a good part of the job and my gut was undecided. Tired and undecided. And quite possibly in need of bacon and eggs.