‘I want to ask if you’ve done many of these jobs, but I guess you’re not going to answer that.’ Jack rearranged himself on the bed, trying to look relaxed. He talked in a low voice so as to not to wake the others.

‘I’ve done a few.’ Crumbs said, looking into his drink as if seeing some memory there.

‘You’re good at planning them. Coming up with a shock factor.’

Crumbs’s face lit up. ‘I wish I could see the footage. It’ll go viral for sure. Someone will shut it down, but the damage will already be done. People will see it and they’ll share it because they’re horrified or incensed. Then we’ll get an enquiry into pig farming and hopefully that’ll be it. Bang! They’ll shut the industry down.’

‘But won’t someone work out we cut the wires? Then they’ll know it wasn’t the farmers causing the stress, it was ac—’ He stopped halfway through the word ‘activists’. ‘Us.’

‘Oh, yeah, but by then it’ll be too late. People online will have seen it. I’m sure the papers will report later that it was sabotage, but by then the images will already be in people’s minds. And we can muddy the waters by denying we had anything to do with it. After all, don’t forget, Voices for Animals is a peaceful mob. Some other organisation will get the blame. We don’t need the glory of people knowing who did this; we just need the torture of these animals to stop.’ There was a mad gleam in Crumbs’s eye as he drained his cup of Scotch and poured another one. Jack sipped slowly. ‘See, I told you there was a reason we kept all the VFA protests peaceful. They’re a front for us. I don’t want to be found by the coppers. If they ever come looking for me, well,’ he shrugged, ‘I’m only a peaceful protester. Method in my madness.’ He took another sip.

Madness all right, thought Jack.

Crumbs continued talking. ‘I worked on this one protest. Took months to plan it. I don’t like it when people get hurt. I’m a bit pissed off that young lad lost the use of his hand. That was never meant to happen. Just bad luck. Anyway, this particular protest, me and a few guys, we let some foxes into a chook shed and filmed them attacking the chooks. Said that the owners hadn’t made the shed fox proof. Trouble was, on the way out one of the blokes tripped over an electric fence and the shock sent his heart into funny rhythms and he had a fatal heart attack. It was really awful, but,’ he looked up at Jack and toasted him, ‘sometimes you can’t make an omelette without breaking the egg.’

‘Is the cause worth dying for?’