I was quick to reassure her. ‘You haven’t done anything. You weren’t to know.’ There was no sense adding to their guilt. After all, they weren’t the ones who separated Meg from the herd and pounced.

We got as much information as we could—including Nathan Forester’s address—then Wozza and I left the girls and bade goodbye to Margaret, who was waiting anxiously outside in the corridor.

‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do,’ she said.

We were just about to take our leave, when I turned back to Margaret. ‘Actually, there is something you can do. Can you get us the names of all the people who work at the school holiday program?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Margaret. ‘I’ll email the list to you.’

I handed her my card, and Wozza and I left the building.

Duncan Edwards was nowhere to be seen.

CHAPTER 13: THE LOST BOY

CHAPTER 13

THE LOST BOY

Nathan Forester was tall like his father, but with none of the easy confidence. When he opened the door, a musty stale smell came out from behind him. The house was one of the heritage types that dotted Deception Bay, all stained glass and old bluestone. But sometimes a simple smell was enough to suggest something wasn’t right.

I introduced myself and Wozza and asked if we could come in. Nathan looked torn; he clearly didn’t want us to come in, but he wasn’t old enough or wise enough to keep us out.

‘Sure,’ he said finally. He pushed the creaky wire door open, then stepped back to let us pass.

‘Is your mum home?’ I asked.

‘Nah,’ said Nathan, a little sullenly. ‘She lives in Queensland with her boyfriend.’ There was an edge of contempt to his voice.

Like my farmhouse, this house had a long passageway with rooms off either side. At the end of the passageway was the kitchen. The smell was much stronger inside the house, musty and possibly even mouldy in places. Threadbare carpet muffled the sound of our footsteps down the hall. The kitchen had a small round table, kicked and scuffed. Dishes piled in the sink and on the draining rack.

‘Jeez,’ said Wozza, ‘who cleans up around here?’

The boy looked around at the mess as if seeing it for the first time. ‘No one, I guess.’

He gestured at the table and I pulled out a chair and sat. Wozza and Nathan followed my lead.

‘We need to talk to you about Meg Mulligan.’

‘Why?’ Nathan’s voice was petulant. ‘We broke up.’

‘Why weren’t you at school today?’ asked Wozza.

‘Didn’t feel like it.’

It was like getting blood out of a stone. Didn’t stop me, though. ‘Does your dad know you’re not at school?’

Nathan gave a mirthless laugh, then shrugged.