The beaches weren’t empty – locals and tourists alike found the wave patterns like a fireworks display, even as they huddled under jackets and blankets.

He wondered how many of these out-of-towners knew, or cared, that Forest Dempsey had been found.

The phone rang, just inside the door to the balcony. A landline, old school, enamel red. No mobile phone for him.

He leaned his chair back on two legs, perfectly balanced, and plucked the receiver off the hook. ‘The Mermaid’s Darling,’ he said, eyes on the ocean, deep in thought.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t get you in to see him yet,’ said Constable Linda.

‘You know I have to,’ said Ahab.

‘Ahab, it’s tricky,’ said Linda. ‘She’s got involved.’

He ground his teeth. ‘Of course she has. At least tell me what Forest is saying.’

‘Same as before. Nothing at all. One thing is clear, though: the kid is bloody terrified.’

‘I’m family. He’ll talk to me,’ said Ahab.

‘She’s family too.’

‘What about Alexandra? Jesse?’

‘No sign of the parents. We’re all out looking, but nothing so far. And with the Wind come in, it’ll be hard to search the water.’

‘And Forest hasn’t said anything about them?’

‘He’s a damaged teenage kid who’s been missing for seven years,’ said Linda, slowly, as though spelling it out for him. She was one of few people in Shacktown who spoke to Ahab without any deference.

‘What will it take for me to get a chance to speak to him?’ said Ahab.

‘Davey has the legal guardianship . . .’ Linda sucked her teeth. ‘Which means, again, you’ll need to talk to . . .’

‘Her.’ Ahab’s grip on the handset tightened. ‘I’ll make sure to do that.’

‘Good luck,’ said Linda, and hung up.

Ahab tapped the phone against his chin, looking out over Pirates Bay. The ocean was now a pebbled grey-blue, with the beginnings of that white criss-cross wave pattern that only formed during the Black Wind. It was known as a cross sea, and it was wickedly dangerous. A massive percentage of sunken ships the world over were attributed to cross seas – ships fared best when taking waves head-on, but in a cross sea that was impossible, as no matter which way you were facing, a wave could take you out from the side.

And here, in Pirates Bay, the Black Wind created the fiercest localised cross sea in the natural world. White crests forming at the base of the distant rocky outcrops. If you were near them, the sound of the sucking whirlpools created by the cross waves was enough to chill even the saltiest blood.

The ocean was changeable and unpredictable, that was her nature. But a cross sea offended Ahab’s sense of fair play.

Watching the water, Ahab’s mind hummed like an outboard motor.

What to do about her?

A knock on the door. ‘Ahab?’ called Ned.