At a low-key hangout in Rupertswood Park, Kane sits among friends; minutes later he’s gone—his esky and a half-finished drink still on the ground.
Calls to his phone begin at 10:11 pm and go unanswered as the night wears on.

By morning, police swarm the scene, but one question hangs in the air, how was he lying only metres away—and nobody saw him

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