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infants.’
    ‘Was he vaccinated?’
    ‘No. To my knowledge, none of the children were.’ She locked eyes with the detective. ‘Emmy’s dead and Jenny and Mia are missing. Shouldn’t you be out there looking for them?’
    Schiller leant forward. ‘I realise this is difficult for you, but two kids have died on this woman’s watch and it’s our job to protect the other one, who may or may not still be alive.’
    Dr Wilson seemed to freeze. ‘I can’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense.’
    Doctors became attached to patients when they lived and worked in a small community. Anya knew that from her own mother. She had grown up thinking her mother’s patients often meant more to her than family.
    ‘The police need to know as much as possible about Jenny and Mia. Anything you can tell us will help,’ Anya reassured her.
    ‘Did she have any religious beliefs that prevented her seeking medical help?’ asked Schiller.
    Anya suspected he was alluding to the Bellamy commune and their lifestyle.
    ‘Being anti-vaccination is a choice, not a religion, and it’s not a crime, as much as you or I may disagree with it. A large number of people around here believe in natural healing. It’s a battle we constantly fight. We have to be accredited, satisfy stringent professional reviews, but anyone can call themselves a healer.’
    Anya tried a different approach. ‘How did Jenny react when Tom died?’
    ‘She was devastated. As any mother would be. She wasn’t the same after.’
    ‘In what way?’ Anya had seen the changes in her own parents after losing a child.
    ‘More withdrawn, but she refused counselling and didn’t come in for a follow-up. I saw her at the markets recently, selling bread she’d made, and she seemed a lot brighter.’
    Schiller resumed. ‘Were there ever unexplained bruises, head injuries, broken bones on the children?’
    ‘I would have noticed if there had been anything. And there was nothing about the children’s behaviour to suggest abuse or neglect. They were a bit scruffy, usually covered in dirt, the usual bruises on the shins.’
    ‘Dirty and scruffy?’ Schiller noted the description.
    Dr Wilson stressed, ‘As in normal, healthy, active kids.’
    ‘Except that two of these healthy kids are dead.’
    ‘With all due respect, detective, I’d be more concerned if I didn’t see routine bruises on shins. To me that would suggest something was stopping the child from playing and doing normal activities. Illness, delayed milestones, or a child who was cocooned in virtual bubble wrap.’
    Anya had seen too many cases in which failure of a child to grow was the result of physical or emotional neglect. ‘What were the children’s growth patterns?’
    The GP referred back to the computer. For her age, Emily was on the twenty-fifth percentile for height and the twentieth for weight. ‘Emily was smaller than average for a ten-year-old, but her growth was consistent. Mia was bigger, on the eightieth percentile for height and the seventieth for weight. At least, that was the case five months ago.’
    Schiller scribbled. ‘Was Emily being smaller than her sister a concern?’
    ‘What matters is consistent growth rate, not size. Different fathers means different genes. Emmy was born petite and stayed that way.’ She typed away at her keyboard. ‘The last time I saw Emily was to suture a finger.’ She scrolled down the records. ‘She got it caught in the spoke of her sister’s tricycle. That was in . . . August. I always thought Jenny was an amazing mother under the circumstances.’
    ‘Circumstances?’ the detective asked.
    ‘Being a single mother. From what she told me, she left school pretty early and fell in with the wrong crowd, experimented with drugs.’
    Schiller looked up. ‘Did she still use?’
    ‘No. She was poorly educated, not stupid, detective. Those children mean the world to her. Tom’s death made her more protective.’
    Anya knew the blood on Emily’s underwear