“A what, sorry?” I asked. Kevin was nearing us. “Rebadging? I’m not terribly good with cars.”

“See,” he said, eyeing Kevin warily as he encroached on us. “At the time, back then, Australian car companies were trying to ward off sales of foreign-designed vehicles. So they would—”

“Sorry to break in here.” Kevin put his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Would I be able to borrow you for a second, Ted?”

The elderly man took the cut-in kindly, wandering off with his squinting look, his theories obviously still bubbling. I didn’t like the interruption, watched the man go, thinking I’d catch him and hear whatever he was talking about before he left the pub. He’d come a long way to see me. Put in a lot of effort. The guy didn’t even know how to play a podcast by himself. He deserved to be heard. But I didn’t want to offend anyone, so I gave Kevin his time.

“Thought I’d save you.” He smiled. “Old kook might have tied you up for the rest of the day.”

I gave a halfhearted laugh.

“What did you think of the gig?” he asked. “Some crazy theories, right? That South Australian serial killer—how funny. Guy’s first murder was in 1965. Even if he’d started as a teenager, he’d have to be a billion years old by now.”

“Well, I’ll hear any theory,” I said, sipping the bourbon. The room had steadily emptied. I felt again that weird rush of sensitivity over my arms and neck, a chill, like a cold breeze through an open window. I shrugged it off, turned and leaned on the bar. I got the sense that this guy was trying a little too hard to be my friend. This was a sick kind of celebrity I was experiencing.

“You seem down,” he said, mirroring me, his arms on the bar.

“I’m all right.”

“Don’t let them get you all emotional, man. That woman about the dog.”

“Well. She’s right,” I admitted. “I never found out what happened to the dog.”

“It’s just a dog,” Kevin snorted. “It would have been fine. RSPCA would have taken it in, fixed it up, sent it on to someone else. They’re good like that.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, chewed my lip in what I hoped was a distant, disinterested way. “Anyway, I guess I’ll go thank Fabiana. I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“Look, Ted,” Kevin said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “It’s been really good to meet you. You’re a true inspiration.”

“An inspiration?” I frowned.

“I know. It’s weird. But, like, having met you I feel kind of … free.”

“Free to do what?”

He dropped his eyes, shrugged, didn’t seem to be able to explain.

“Look,” he said instead. “I want to show you something.”