It was serious-an unstable woman running loose with a loaded pistol. It might even get into the press. I groaned aloud at that thought and gave up the idea of telling the police, at least for now. Then another thought struck me. She’d pointed a toy gun at me, would she do the same with a real one? I went back inside and phoned one of the places that will send out a mobile van to replace your windshield. I gave them the specifications of the windshield and window, accepted their quote and told them where I’d leave the cheque. They promised to do it ‘today’. Then I called a cab.

I was poor company for the cabbie on the drive to Lindfield. He made the correct assumption that I was a Balmain supporter and commiserated with me about the side’s performance in the Winfield Cup. I barely listened, scarcely responded, even though I’ve started to take more interest in League lately as a result of Glen being a passionate Newcastle supporter. It was after five and quite dark and cool by the time we got to Lindfield. There was a big fare on the meter that I wasn’t going to be able to lay off on anyone as an expense and I was in a foul temper. The taxi cruised along the wide, tree-lined street while I peered out, trying to spot numbers.

‘Don’t these people put numbers on their gateposts?’ I grumbled.

‘Don’t ask me, mate. I live in St Peters. We don’t have bloody gateposts.’

I laughed. ‘Yeah, right. Well, let’s see if we can spot Number 12 through all this greenery.’

We found it. The house was a big, rambling timber job with a botanical garden in front and a wide woodblock driveway leading to a two vehicle carport. It fitted right in with its neighbours to either side- solid, $400,000 places with all the trimmings. The only difference was that Number 12 was obviously empty. Local newspapers had accumulated by the gate and a few telltale weeds sprouted through the woodblocks. Lights were showing in the other houses, but Number 12 was dark. There was also a large For Sale sign mounted over the centre of the front hedge. The agents were Climpson amp; Carter of Chatswood.