Russell Mowbray stood aside and held the door open for us. Crystal led the way. I saw Russell looking at his niece as I passed. The look was one of sorrow, not anger. With a practised eye, I examined the house as I followed Crystal towards the kitchen. Neat, clean, well kept. All good signs. The kitchen was light and airy. A round table with four chairs filled the space on the other side of the kitchen counter. The table had two placemats, two coasters.

‘Just the two of you here?’ Wozza asked.

‘Yep,’ said Russell. ‘Just the two of us.’ He gave a small sigh.

‘Lucky us!’ said Crystal with mock brightness.

‘Coffee?’ Russell flicked on the kettle, which began an immediate hum.

‘Tea’d be great,’ I said.

Wozza asked for coffee and Russell busied himself at the bench while I went to the sliding door and looked out. There was a black pony in the paddock behind the house. I looked at Crystal. ‘Yours?’

‘Black Beauty.’ Crystal’s eyes shone.

‘She needs feeding.’ Russell looked up from the mugs. ‘Why don’t you do it now? And for God’s sake, put a jumper on. It’s cold outside.’

Crystal looked like she was going to object, but then glanced at me and thought better of it. She grabbed a hoodie from a hook near the door, pulled the door open, kicked off her runners and slid her feet into some gumboots. Russell appeared behind me, a mug in each hand. We all took a seat.

‘That kid’ll be the end of me.’

‘How long … ?’

‘I’ve had her since she was four.’

I took the lead. ‘She was caught shoplifting at the chemist.’

‘Bloody hell!’ Russell looked helpless. ‘I’ve told her to come straight home after school, not hang around. She gets pocket money. She doesn’t need to …’ His voice trailed off.

‘Cry for help?’ My voice was gentle.

‘I’m the one who should be crying for help.’ Russell looked tired.

‘So, what do you do for a crust?’ Wozza asked casually.

‘Insurance. Farming equipment. Sugar? Milk?’