‘Just Friday’s and today’s. Thursday’s is there.’ Jane nodded to the kitchen table, where Thursday’s Herald Sun was open at the racing form guide.

‘Astute neighbour.’ I squatted down to get a better look at the deceased. Drinker’s nose. Thick unruly white-grey hair. Mottled skin.

And then the shock of recognition.

Mervin Geoffrey Evans. Merv. ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘this is the guy who hassled me at the pub before Jack approached.’

‘Do you think he was in cahoots with Jack?’ asked Jane, wide-eyed.

‘I honestly don’t know,’ I said.

‘Maybe Jack killed him to stop him from talking.’ There was an excitement to Jane’s voice as she connected conspiracy-theory dots.

I stood up. ‘We need to get hold of his doctor to see if there were concerns about his health.’

Wozza raised his eyebrows. ‘You think there’s something suspicious about this? Because if there is, we need to clear out and call the Crime Scene techs.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But considering the connection, we can’t take any chances.’ We all unconsciously stepped back from the body. Using my phone, I took pictures of the kitchen and the body, and then took a video of the room. I flipped open my notebook. ‘Jane, is there an address book near the phone? See if there’s a number for his doctor.’

Jane went to look.

I turned to Wozza. ‘If we can’t find one, how many doctors are there in Deception Bay?’

‘There’s the bulk-billing place on the highway,’ said Wozza, ‘and Doc Caldicott on the main street. We should try Doc Caldicott first. Her surgery is two doors down from the TAB.’ He pulled out his phone and disappeared down the hallway to make the call.

Wozza passed Jane as she emerged from the lounge room holding an old address book. Together, we flicked through it, trying to decipher really bad handwriting to read the couple of entries.

Wozza came back inside. He had beat us to it. ‘Just spoke to Doc Caldicott. She said Merv was diagnosed with epilepsy a couple of years back and was on a drug called’—he flipped open his notebook—‘Tegretol. And he was on the cusp of type two diabetes on account of his lifestyle.’ Wozza paused and glanced at the filthy dishes piled up in the sink then glanced down at dead Merv. ‘She reckons there’s nothing specific she can see that would explain his sudden demise, but it could be a heart attack. Or stroke.’

We all stepped outside and closed the door behind us. I made the call to Crime Scene. Jane would wait for the techs. When they were finished, she’d call the government undertaker to transport the body.

‘Are you gonna wait with me?’ she asked, a tiny but noticeable tremor in her voice.