‘She’s just getting out of the shower; she’ll be out in a minute. Isn’t all this murder stuff crazy? I hate the idea of Bobbi going out there. I didn’t mind the idea of sharing my life with a cop when the biggest thing to happen was Bert Sercombe getting busted shoplifting tampons from the pharmacy.’

‘Did that really happen?’

Nodding, Maggie laughed. ‘Clare had sent him out for them. He had the money. He was just too embarrassed to take them through the register. It’s the most pathetic thing a man has ever done. But you didn’t hear that from me.’

‘Mum’s the word,’ Abby said. ‘And try not to worry about Bobbi. She’s tough.’

If Maggie had seen Bobbi in the car with the tequila, she might not have agreed so easily. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘She’s basically Sarah Connor.’

Joe slunk coolly into the room, yawned and helped himself to Maggie’s lap. Joe was a beefy cat, an apartment stray that Bobbi had started feeding a couple of years back. He had officially moved in soon after. Maggie winced as he kneaded at her legs to get comfortable.

‘I thought you and Joe hated each other,’ Abby said.

‘When I got pregnant, I had to stop changing his litter tray because cat turds can carry this nasty parasite called toxoplasmosis, which can cause birth defects.’ She rubbed her palm over her belly. ‘There’s something about not picking up someone’s shit that puts you on the same level. Joe respects me now.’

‘Toxoplasmosis,’ a voice mocked from the hall. Bobbi padded in from the bathroom, dressed in her crisp powder-blue uniform, drying her hair off with a towel. Her eyebrows were still wet from the shower. They looked more commanding than usual. ‘Be honest, Abby, don’t you think that sounds made up?’

‘Bobbi thinks the whole cat-turd thing is a conspiracy to trick her into cleaning out Joe’s litter all the time,’ Maggie said. ‘Personally, I think it’s a pretty good trade-off when you consider what I’m going through over here. Morning sickness, bloating, frequent urination, haemorrhoids. I can go on.’

‘And on and on and on,’ Bobbi said, giving Maggie a peck on the cheek. ‘How do I look?’

‘Babelicious,’ Maggie told her. ‘So you’re stuck at the information caravan again tonight?’

Bobbi prepped some coffee in a thermos at the kitchen counter. ‘All night.’

‘I drove past there, and it looked pretty packed,’ Abby said. ‘How’s it going?’

‘As an exercise in gathering gossip, it’s working great. As far as generating any actual leads, I don’t know yet. Time will tell, I suppose. Is everything okay, Ab? You look … weird.’