He arrived at the two dolomite boulders leaning against each other. He triggered the fishing-line. The sledgehammer swung down. He walked past it, into the small forest of marijuana plants. They towered over him, casting wild skinny shadows in the torchlight, whispering in the darkness.

Avoiding the bear-traps, he doused each plant with petrol. He knew the fire wouldn’t spread – all the rain the last few days had dampened the bush, the King Billy Pines too ancient and tough – but the marijuana crop would be no more.

Moving back to the tunnel between the boulders, he picked a leaf and lit it with the cigarette lighter. It caught easily. He dropped it at the base of the closest plant. It caught with a whoof.

He watched the flames spread, mixing with the pine needles and marijuana.

He headed home, so drunk on rage that time was malleable. One moment he was walking away from the blaze, the next he was at the house.

But Butch still wasn’t home yet. Murphy would have to find him, instead.

CHAPTER 40

CON

Con stood in the steaming shower. The shaking had stopped, but the fatigue was still there. The faces of the Jaguar girls rolled across his mind, now joined by Georgia’s broken body and Bree’s bruised face.

He needed sleep.

He had to focus on Georgia and Bree.

Option 1: Bree killed Georgia and/or the other girls, then killed herself out of remorse.

Option 2: Someone killed Bree and hung her up to look like a suicide.

Option 3: Bree killed herself, believing it would protect the others from the Hungry Man.

Option 4: Madison had convinced both Bree and Georgia to kill themselves, and this has all been part of some sick, insane plot.

He thought back to the Honcho Dori Club. He thought back to Denni King. He thought back to the wooden statue tied to Bree’s wrist.

Chaotic Evil: the Hungry Man. Chaotic Evil: Madison Mason. Was there a difference?

There was banging on his hotel room door. He walked out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and opened the door.

Gabriella came stumbling in, arm raised in mid-knock. ‘Con, you toolbag, why don’t you answer your calls?’

‘Gabby, I’m —’

‘Madison killed Denni King,’ she said in a rush. ‘I saw the messages. On her phone. Madison convinced Denni to kill herself.’

‘What?’

‘Do I have your attention now, Cornelius?’

‘I’m listening,’ he said.

She refused to come further into the room and started bouncing on her toes as she spoke. ‘They were both part of something called the Kundela Game, a series of dares. Remember when we saw ‘kundela is the word’ on Madison’s sleeping bag? It has something to do with that. And, Denni was a woodcarver. And this,’ she held out the wooden statue that had been tied to Bree’s wrists, ‘Madison found in her room!’