Abby neatly folded the clothing, set it back down in the crate and shut the lid. She shrugged. ‘Yeah, this just feels a bit like a bad omen.’

Right on cue, the two-way radio on Bobbi’s lapel shrieked. It spat radio static for a moment, and then a gruff male voice said, ‘Bobbi, are you around? Over.’

Bobbi put her index finger to her lips. She was, after all, on duty. She gave the radio a squeeze and said, ‘What’s up, Sarg?’

‘I need you over at Beech Tree Landing,’ the voice on the other end of the radio squawked. ‘This might be a big one, Bobbi. Over.’

Abby and Bobbi exchanged a curious glance.

‘That’s a worry,’ Abby said. But neither of them could quite hide their excitement.

5

THE WIDOW

Kate’s home was an elegant renovated Victorian house in the inner suburb of Caulfield. It was open and bright, with original leadlight windows and polished banisters. The extended living space was wrapped with floor-to-ceiling windows that, at sunset, reflected and refracted light like a prism. But it was long after sunset now. John was out there, someplace beyond the glass, someplace beyond the dark.

And somehow, beneath a four-metre-high ceiling, Kate felt claustrophobic. Her sneakers slapped loudly against the oak parquetry flooring as she looked for her daughter. Under other circumstances she would have insisted on enforcing her strict no-shoes-inside policy, but a few scuffs didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.

Mia was sitting on the leather sofa in the living room with her grandmother, Pam. She had hardly talked or eaten since returning from the airport without her father and was now staring dreamily out the window. With the front light switched off, the glass was a black mirror, reflecting a pale, ghostly version of Kate’s daughter.

Pam didn’t hear Kate approach – she was completely deaf in one ear and refused to use a hearing aid because it would make her look too much like her mother. She was in her seventies but had the taut smooth skin of someone much younger. Clutched in her hands was a Gucci handbag and an extravagant pair of Saint Laurent cat eyes – six-hundred-dollar sunglasses.

‘Daddy loves you very much and I’m sure he misses you,’ Pam told Mia. ‘He just needs to stay away a little longer. For work, that’s all. He’ll be back soon.’

‘How soon?’ Mia asked.

‘Just as soon as he can, darling.’

John’s parents had descended on the house and set up base. Fisher was a chain-smoking wreck, while Pam was unnervingly calm. Kate wasn’t sure which was worse.