‘Maaate,’ said Mack, with a small smile. ‘We lived in hotels. Ate fancy dinners every night. Bought expensive cars and gold chains and designer clothes. Had whatever we wanted. I’ve been in every penthouse suite on the Gold Coast. I’ve dated famous people, Forest. People you’d recognise.’ He paused and grimaced. ‘Actually, maybe you wouldn’t.’

‘Your clients would come into the hotels?’ said Forest. The early part of Mack’s story was all too familiar, but this was definitely different from the drug world he’d known. ‘You kept the drugs there?’

‘Nah, mate,’ said Mack, his eyes shining, lost in memory. ‘We had the stuff in a car, parked a few blocks away. By then I was only doing deals that had been prearranged, generally through Snapchat – harder to track. I’d have the right amount in the boot of the car, in a gym bag. They’d rock up to the hotel, give me the money, I’d give them the keys, they’d go get the product and leave the keys in the boot. It was a good system.’

‘And then you got caught, and sent to jail,’ said Forest.

‘Yeah,’ said Mackerel, but his eyes were still lost in the memory of the good times.

Forest didn’t like that look – there was a hunger there. He took in Mackerel’s tattered appearance with fresh eyes. Fraying hems on his shirt, stains on the collar, a cheap haircut that he’d probably done himself . . .

But even though he didn’t look like much, from what he’d just told Forest, the man was very capable.

If not for me, Mackerel would be the next in line for Dempsey Abalone. Assuming Davey stays hidden.

And he’s not nearly as stupid as I thought he was.

CHAPTER 30

MACKEREL

Early the next morning, Mackerel called his lawyer. He was a good enough lawyer, as things went. You didn’t always know who you’d get when they were appointed with government aid.

The lawyer thought it was a very good idea to have Mackerel’s bail address moved to a respectable place like the Dempseys’ mansion. It spoke of restored family relationships, and demonstrated how he was helping his sister-in-law. But since Mackerel was almost certainly going back to jail in seven months’ time, the lawyer wondered if it was really a good thing for Kane. He’d just lost his dad, and then he’d lose his uncle too, just as he got to know him . . .

But Mackerel had to do it. He’d already promised Shelby. And his gut told him she would do something stupid if he wasn’t around. That look in her eyes, he’d seen it before: out on the street. Desperate people were willing to do desperate things for a fix.