‘I mean,’ started Heath, sounding affronted, ‘someone kidnapped and tried to kill me. I managed to make it out of there until I ran into the bastard with the mullet and the shotgun.’

‘Who attacked you?’ asked Chandler.

‘Which one?’

‘The one in the woods.’

‘Called himself Gabriel,’ said Heath, licking his cracked lips to wet them.

The name sent a million thoughts crashing through Chandler’s brain but it was Tanya who spoke up, still coiled and ready to pounce. ‘What did he look like, this Gabriel?’

‘Tall . . . taller than me. Maybe your height,’ he nodded at Chandler, ‘but slimmer. Talked . . . I dunno . . . like he was from around here.’

No, he didn’t, thought Chandler. Gabriel was definitely from Perth, though he supposed that for someone from out East all Westies did all sound the same. He warned himself not to fall into the same trap. Casual stereotyping equalled lazy police work.

‘Anything else?’ asked Chandler. The description wasn’t much to go on. Nothing to say for sure that it was Gabriel Johnson.

‘What d’you want to know?’ asked Heath. ‘He was your height, tanned with stubble, but his face was kinda, I dunno, too young. As if they didn’t match, like the beard was stuck on. He was softly spoken. Like silk.’

That nailed it. Heath had described Gabriel, almost exactly. In fact the recollection might have been a little too good, more of a prolonged study of the subject than a fleeting glance in panic. Especially for a supposedly startled brain.

Chandler looked to his fellow officers. Tanya seemed as stunned as he was. Luka stared at him, looking for direction as to what to do next. The final member, Nick, remained stuck behind the front desk, his eyes wide, enjoying the show.

Heath filled the silence.

‘So that’s why I tried to take the car. I was running for my life. You have to believe me.’

The plea was aimed at Chandler. Chandler didn’t respond, his brain swimming in treacle.

‘Sarge?’ said Luka, pushing for an answer. The kid always liked it when someone was under pressure, even more so when it was his boss.

‘Stick him in a cell,’ answered Chandler. It was nothing more than a stalling tactic but it was the best he could come up with until his thoughts settled down.

As Luka nodded, Heath exploded, trying in vain to free himself from the two officers dragging him to his feet.

‘You can’t do this,’ he screamed as he was led off towards the cells. ‘I’ve got my rights. You can’t lock me up.’

‘I can if you’re under custody,’ replied Chandler to his protests.

‘For what?’

‘Stealing a car to start with.’

‘He was trying to murder me!’

‘You’ll be safe in the cells then,’ said Chandler, listening to the ongoing protest fade into the distance.

8