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you?’
    ‘Told me what?’
    ‘About the purse.’
    ‘No, Matt.’ I smiled, despite everything. ‘I meant, consider it forgotten.’
    ‘Oh, good. Thanks.’
    ‘I suppose they didn’t have a lot of cards in those days. It wouldn’t be so unusual to have a purse without identification.’ I gave this some thought but then realised Matt was still looking nervous. I changed the subject. ‘So, all set for the big move this weekend?’
    His face relaxed into a grin. ‘Sure am. Can’t wait. Scarlet’s already got a lot of her stuff up here already. Did you know my parents were coming up as well? To help?’
    ‘Considering they’re here for dinner Saturday night, yes, I did have some idea.’ I glanced over his shoulder to where Eric Male was making his way across the yard. His granite features were set in their usual implacable folds. ‘Here comes your boss.’
    ‘Shit.’
    ‘Ms Forrest.’ The detective nodded before turning to Matt. ‘Senior Constable Carstairs.’
    ‘Just getting back, sir,’ said Matt quickly, doing exactly that. He took up position by the missing fence and I guessed that his role consisted of ensuring no sightseers, or media, breached the gap. No wonder he seemed bored.
    ‘Befriending the local police?’ queried Eric Male. One of his eyebrows rose just slightly.
    ‘Actually, Matt is engaged to my eldest daughter. Their first child is due in a few weeks. So the befriending has already taken place.’
    ‘Clearly.’
    I frowned, unsure whether he was trying to be clever, or witty, or just conversational.
    ‘We should be out of your hair soon.’ He lifted his eyes. ‘Nice hat.’
    ‘Thank you. So is there any news? Other than that released at the press conference?’
    ‘Not at this stage.’
    ‘Cause of death?’
    ‘Not yet determined.’
    I regarded him steadily. ‘And I gather you’ll be speaking to my father?’
    ‘Should I?’ His eyebrow lifted again. ‘Is that your recommendation?’
    ‘Well, no. It’s just that the timing, ah, with his shop. I thought …’
    ‘All avenues will be investigated, of course.’
    It suddenly occurred to me that he was enjoying the conversation, and he was also making a point. My involvement was not going to be tolerated. This annoyed me. It was both unnecessary and presumptuous, given it was based on a premise that I even wanted to be involved.
    ‘I believe that you are, um, good friends with a colleague of mine. Ashley Armistead.’
    My eyes narrowed. ‘I do know him, yes.’
    ‘A good man. He’d be in the middle of this if he was here, of course. But he’s not.’
    ‘No, he’s not.’
    Eric Male smiled, but it was a smile that went nowhere near his eyes. ‘Best I get back to it then. Good day, Ms Forrest.’
    I nodded, not really trusting myself to speak. The detective crossed the yard with slow, lengthy strides, towards the gap in the fence. He paused to have a word with Matt before continuing on to one of the police cars. I went inside and then stood, staring at the stacks of partially unpacked boxes. Gusto came over to stand by my side companionably. After a few minutes, with thoughts ricocheting around my head like bullets, I glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes to go before the late news and, hopefully, a repeat of the afternoon’s press conference. Knowledge was power.
    I took off my hat and dropped it on the kitchen bench, then ran a hand through my hair. I could feel it rising crisply now that it was free. The house was quiet, with Quinn still at her friend Caitlin’s house until later. I picked up the landline handset and weighed it in my hand, trying to decide whether to make the call.
    I had met Detective Sergeant Ashley Armistead the previous year, when he was investigating a local murder that, somehow, inadvertently, I had become involved in. It had not been until a few months later, however, that we had commenced our current relationship. But this itself was complicated, particularly at the moment. The truth was