On the Saturday morning after her husband had been interviewed by the police, Rebecca Grant was in the kitchen of their homestead eating poached eggs on toast for breakfast, when her fourteen-year-old son, Simon, joined her.
‘Where’s Dad?’ said Simon.
‘He went into town,’ said Rebecca. ‘You should have gotten up earlier if you wanted to go with him.’
‘Is Dad in trouble?’ said Simon.
‘Not that I know of,’ said Rebecca. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘The boys at school said the police are asking if anyone’s missing an old twenty-two rifle.’
‘Are they?’
‘It was on the news.’
‘Oh. I must have missed it.’
‘Has Dad said anything? He listens to the news.’
‘Why would he say anything about that? Sergeant Davenport checked our gun cupboard with your father when he was here. There’s nothing missing.’
