The girl left the bus in Coffs Harbour, a pleasant enough seaside town where they stopped for breakfast the next morning. Julianne’s luck ran out at that point, when the seat next to her was taken by an unwashed young man whose body mass was fifty per cent composed of stainless steel piercings. He played loud, terrible music through his disgracefully cheap headphones and farted with joyous abandon all the way to Brisbane.

She couldn’t really afford a good hotel room, but Julia Black could, so Jules booked a night at the Sheraton as soon as she arrived in the northern capital. She had no intention of staying for long. She felt the urgency of her need to get to Darwin as a physical discomfort. Soaking in her bath at the hotel, washing away the unpleasantness of the road trip with a bottle of champagne from the minibar, Julianne called down to the concierge desk.

‘I need to get in contact with someone in Darwin,’ she said. ‘A Mr Narayan Shah. He runs a security consultancy up there, but I’m afraid I’m not quite sure of the name of his company. I wonder if you might be a dear and see if you could track it down for me. That’s Narayan Shah. He’s a former Gurkha, if that helps . . . okay. Thank you.’

The phone next to her bed rang ten minutes later while she was tying up the thick, white bathrobe and contemplating a room service binge. If she was going to burn Julia Black’s ID and credit rating she might as well torch it in high style.

‘Ms Black, it is Arthur at the front desk, I have Mr Shah on the line for you.’

She heard a click and a beep and then Shah’s voice was in her ear.

‘Ms Black? This is Narayan Shah. How can I help you?’

‘You can stop calling me Ms Black for a start. It’s Jules, Shah. From the Aussie Rules. How are you?’

He was, it seemed, surprised and delighted to hear from her.

‘Miss Julianne, this is a pleasure. I had heard you were back in Australia and was hoping you would call.’

She smiled at the rough, familiar tone of the old sergeant’s voice.

‘Hello, Shah,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely to talk to you. And yes, I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact, but, you know, trying to keep a low profile and all.’

She sat down on the bed and snugged the dressing gown closer around her.

‘I understand,’ said Shah. ‘The authorities, they did not make it easy for you with Mr Norman’s boat, and some of your passengers.’

He meant the Pieraro family. Her wealthy American refugees had walked down the gangplank and into the warm embrace of the locals. Not so much the penniless Mexican family.