‘We could report them to the police.’

‘Good luck with that.’

We are silent, so far out of our league that we have nothing to say.

Frank finishes his beer, and says he’d better go. ‘Are there ever any cops around here? Like, to breathalyse me?’

I tell him, ‘Only when they have reason.’

We shake hands like old friends, and he takes his box and leaves. It is dark outside. The three of us have been together for hours. My head is beginning to hurt again, and I am ready for sleep. I tell Marko there are clean sheets in the cupboard if he wants them, but I’m not up to doing it for him. I’d like to talk to him about what he thinks of the things we learned today, but I’m too tired.

I leave him settled down in front of the TV.

When I get out of bed in the morning, Marko is up, showered and chirpy, a body of barely contained energy. He is not used to sitting around.

‘You didn’t think getting human ash in the mail was worth telling me about?’

‘I didn’t want to worry you.’

‘You are a very frustrating person, Dave Martin.’

‘I know.’

‘And I don’t believe that someone has just accidentally sent you stuff like that.’

‘No.’

‘That makes this a dangerous place, so you’d better come and live with me until it blows over.’

‘What am I going to do at your place?’

‘You’re that busy here?’ He is cooking eggs like it’s a ground-breaking science experiment that no one has attempted before.

‘I’ve got plenty to do here, and I can handle myself.’

‘Mate, I don’t think there’s evidence for either of those things.’

‘And you wonder why I don’t tell you everything.’

I’m not really listening to him. I’m thinking about Elaine and what she knows about this whole business. Plenty of husbands do things their wives never know about. Or is she more compromised than I know, and more evil? Did she send the money as a thank you, or maybe to keep me quiet?

‘Are you going to tell me about Elaine?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Anything you like.’ He serves scrambled eggs with tomatoes and toast, and we sit together to eat, and drink hot black tea.

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’

‘Right.’

‘I don’t know what she knows. She just said Tito got in some trouble, and that someone was blackmailing him.’

‘So what happens now?’

‘No idea.’

‘You can’t have a relationship with someone when you don’t know important things about her. And you can’t pretend that the problem, and the bloke who hit you on the head, have just gone away.’

‘I could.’