‘Stop,’ she demanded, raising the palms of both hands. ‘Just stop. And listen. It’s very important you get your shit together right now. We can scream at each other later all we want, but not in front of my colleagues, and not in front of your kids.’

‘Jesus. The kids.’

‘You can take them to my place. I’ll call Maggie and let her know what’s going on. They can stay there until we’re finished.’

‘Finished with what?’

Bobbi took a deep breath and looked at Abby with deep sympathy. ‘Until we’re finished with a search of your home, property and vehicles thereon.’

Two skinny constables in long raincoats slipped into the garage. An absurd and absurdly funny question popped into Abby’s head: what would they think of all her taxidermy equipment? What would they think of Trevor the half-skinned ringtail, wrapped in a Buy & Bye shopping bag and stashed inside the bar fridge?

‘We’ll be as low-impact as possible, Ab,’ Bobbi said. ‘I promise.’

‘Your promises aren’t worth much anymore, Officer. You’re crazy if you think I’d let my kids anywhere near your apartment and crazier if you think I’ll ever trust you again.’

‘Don’t make me the enemy, Ab, and get it together.’

‘Don’t tell me what to do.’

‘Look, I know you’re scared, but you need to calm—’

‘I want to see a warrant.’

‘Abby.’

‘You have no right to be here. I want to see a search warrant and I want to see it—’

‘We don’t need a search warrant,’ Bobbi said in a short, sharp tone. Her patience was wearing thin. ‘Ray gave us permission to search the house.’

Fresh rain fell. Abby stood on the grass and let it fall. ‘… What did you say?’

‘I didn’t tell anyone about what we talked about,’ Bobbi said, lowering her voice and leaning in closer. Her hair was soaked, clinging to her cheeks. ‘Abby, as soon as you left, I got called in. I was despatched here straight away to perform an evidence search. Ray’s at the police station. He turned up with a box full of what he claims is evidence.’

‘No, that doesn’t make sense … You’re lying.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You’re lying!’ Abby reached out with trembling hands and shoved Bobbi, hard.

Bobbi stood her ground but she didn’t fight back. Abby shoved her again, but this time, in almost the same movement, she collapsed into her arms and began to cry.

Bobbi held her and kissed her softly on the forehead.

‘I wish I were, hun, but Ray confessed,’ she whispered.

‘… No.’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘He confessed to the murder of David Stemple.’

23

THE WIDOW

‘Dad was murdered in the winter of 1996,’ Marcus Stemple said, massaging the arm of the dusty armchair with his fingers. ‘Blunt force trauma. Someone hit him across the head with a brick, then dumped his body in the water.’