‘What on earth are you doing here?’ Rupert Spencer called through the open driver’s window.

Song spun around, startled, from where he was picking up the newspaper from the driveway. ‘Good after noon, sir. Perhaps I could ask you the same thing.’

‘I asked first,’ Rupert said.

Song sighed. He was in no way inclined to play games with the man. ‘I think we should speak inside,’ he said, gesturing towards the house. ‘I will make some tea.’

‘I don’t have time for your dratted tea!’ Rupert thundered. When he paused to take a breath, Song noticed how dishevelled the man appeared. ‘Sorry, I just need to find out where Dash Chalmers’ farm is. I don’t suppose you have any idea?’

Song frowned and wondered if he should tell the man. ‘May I ask, sir, why you are enquiring?’

‘His housekeeper told me that’s where he is and I need to speak to him – urgently. He has some serious explaining to do.’ Rupert flexed his fingers, gripping and releasing the steering wheel.

‘It is in the Southern Highlands,’ Song said after a lengthy pause.

‘Right, hop in,’ Rupert said. ‘I have a feeling this might take two of us.’

‘But I must wait for the children,’ Song protested. ‘They are shopping in the city.’

‘Call them,’ Rupert ordered.

Song dialled Max’s phone, but the boy didn’t pick up. Neither did Kensy. He then activated the GPS and was stunned to find the twins were somewhere near Mittagong and moving quickly along the railway line. ‘Mr Rupert, sir, they are not where I expected them to be,’ Song said, his mouth set in a grim line. He hurried around to the other side of the car and jumped into the passenger seat. ‘And I suspect that, for reasons unbeknown to me, they are heading to the same place as you.’

Rupert planted his foot on the accelerator. ‘You’d better hope we get to Dash before the children, old man, or heaven knows what we might find.’