‘Then I’ll leave you two to fight this out,’ Mr Jones said.

Dad threw the last of the magazines onto the fire. ‘Nothing to fight about. Everyone knew it went on.’

‘So you admit it happens?’ James asked.

Dad nodded. ‘Of course everyone knows it happens, but nobody up here cares about it like they do in the city.’

‘So the police just turn a blind eye to certain crimes?’ James asked.

‘Look, it wasn’t considered a crime in our day!’

‘But it’s a crime now, Dad. Someone either threw Tony off the Kippen Bridge, or he jumped trying to get away.’

His father started taking in very short breaths. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he shouted. ‘None of the family had seen your cousin for weeks. He’d walked away from Leanne and the farm, even changed his will. Bill and Doris didn’t know whether they were coming or going.’

‘Maybe Tony had given up trying to talk to any of you?’ James said. ‘Which is bad enough, but maybe he had that opportunity taken away from him by someone?’

The malice popped into Mr Jones’s face and got rid of the comedy routine for good.

‘Sounds like you know all about it, Jamie. Anyone would be forgiven for thinking you’re batting for the other team,’ Mr Jones said.

‘Andy-’ Dad said, holding up the barbecue tongs.

‘I do,’ James said. ‘I’ve been living with the same man for over ten years. His name is Dylan. He’s the one who rang Doris last night, because he gives a shit about me.’

Mr Jones started laughing, right from his belly. The dismissive, careless chuckling of a complete arsehole, the kind James had run from his whole life.

But this time, he felt the spineless shell starting to crack and fall away. ‘Dad, ask this clown where his grandson was two nights ago with Johnny Jones’s ute,’ he said.

‘Leave my boys out of it,’ Mr Jones said, throwing an arm towards James and looking at Dad. ‘You seriously gonna let him just waltz into town and go around accusing people?’

But the cop just stared back, mouth shut.

‘What the fuck, Dan?’ Mr Jones said.

‘Bobby was probably home with his dad, right, Andy?’ Dad asked.

‘’Course he bloody was!’

‘What about Johnny’s ute?’

‘Parked in the garage, all night.’

‘And if I ring your boys now, they’ll tell me the same?’

‘Bloody oath,’ Mr Jones said, giving a few short, offended laughs into the silence.

Dad poked at the burning pages like all three of them were sitting around a campfire and someone had told a bad joke. ‘Jamie, give me your mobile phone,’ he said eventually.

James reached for it in his jeans pocket and handed it over, hoping there was enough left in the battery.

The agent started getting breathy. ‘We can sort this out later,’ he said.