He continued. ‘Worst thing was, when they moved Shayna’s body, there were two stains on the mattress underneath—one from Shayna and one small one. They reckoned Crystal had been curled up with her mother as she decomp—’ He blew out another deep breath. ‘She doesn’t remember any of it. How can you tell a kid that? A car crash is a much easier story.’

As a cop, I heard a lot of human tragedy stories and this was right up there. My heart went out to the girl I had just met with the secret she didn’t know.

‘Other family?’ I asked, wondering why a single uncle got the orphan.

‘Mum and Dad moved to Queensland after it happened. Couldn’t stand it here afterwards; everyone knowing what happened. Shayna’s death crushed them. Everything here reminded them of her. They have Crystal on some of the school holidays, but they’re getting too old now. And she’s … well …’

The subject under discussion stomped up onto the porch, scraped the bottom of her gumboots on a block with a brush on it, then kicked them off and came inside.

‘We bumble along, we do,’ said Russell smiling wanly at his niece. She came to his side and put an arm around him.

‘Sorry, Russ,’ she said, patting him on the back. ‘But hey—guess what?’

‘What?’

‘I got a job!’

Somewhere in the house, a toilet flushed. Wozza came back, gave an almost imperceptible nod.

I rose. ‘Thanks for the cuppa,’ I said, putting out a hand.

Russell stood, shook it warmly, and showed us to the door.

I turned to Crystal. ‘And good luck with your new job. I think you’ll be great.’

Crystal’s grin made her look younger than her years.

On the drive back to the police station, Wozza described the rest of the house. ‘Cleaner than mine,’ he said. ‘Separate bedrooms, both look lived in. Beds made, no crap on the floor. Bathroom, toilet, clean. No handcuffs, whips, dungeons. Nothing in the medicine cabinet except Panadol and bandaids. DVDs in the lounge room are mostly Harry Potter, Star Wars and Twilight. Nothing untoward. Nothing rated over M.’

‘Good to know.’ These surreptitious searches could tell a world about people. Porn left out in a shared area was a dead giveaway. Only one bedroom in use was another.

‘What’d you get?’

I repeated the story about Crystal’s parents. ‘Was this before your time?’

‘Yep—I’ve only been in Deception Bay for six years,’ he said. ‘My wife would know about it; she was born and bred here.’ Then Wozza asked the same question I had formed during Russell’s telling. ‘If Crystal’s mum was his sister, why the matching surnames? Shouldn’t Crystal’s surname be the father’s?’