After Ahab had gone inside Overeem’s to dive with Forest, Mackerel sat in the car for a long time.

Chips was dead. Blackbeard had infiltrated the Business.

Forest was at risk of becoming a pawn in a much larger game.

And Davey was . . . still alive, but trapped, unable to return while Blackbeard was about.

Should he have told Ahab about Davey? No, he did the right thing – the fewer people who knew, the less risk to Shelby and Kane.

The drive up to Homeward took twice as long as it should have. Mackerel drove slowly, weighing up everything in his mind.

Shelby wanted Mackerel back drug dealing. And the thing was, the longer Mackerel sat with it, the more he realised she might be right: he couldn’t see any other way of getting close enough to Blackbeard to find out his identity.

But if Chips had worked out who Blackbeard was, then maybe it wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it’d be. That changed things . . .

Finally he arrived at Shelby’s place. His new place. Although for how long?

He parked and limped down the crunching gravel to the door, still in two minds.

Shelby was waiting in the lounge, wrapped in a thin green cardigan. Ivy had instructed her to wait at home in case Forest showed up. Kane was out with Fiona and her kids, giving Shelby some space.

‘Did you find Forest?’ said Shelby, folding her cardigan across herself. ‘Is he safe?’

‘Yeah. He was with Ahab.’ He sat across from her. ‘He . . . had a lot to tell me. I know this will be hard to hear but . . . Chips is dead.’

‘What? How?!’

‘Blackbeard. Somehow, she learned his identity – she told some of his men, trying to intimidate them, and they . . . they killed her for it.’

Shelby’s hand flew to her mouth, then began kneading her bottom lip.

‘I know you knew her, that Davey brought her around here for dinner . . .’

Shelby seemed miles away. ‘If Chips was able to work out who Blackbeard is . . .’

‘She died because of that knowledge,’ added Mack.

‘No. No, that’s not true – she died only because she told them . . .’ Shelby nodded, as though making her mind up. ‘Mack, I’ve been doing some research.’

He didn’t like that tone in her voice. ‘About what?’

‘You know, you can find anything on the dark web . . .’

‘Shelby . . .’

‘And, I mean, I am a chemist . . .’

‘No, Shelby, please don’t —’

‘You said so yourself last night.’ She reached for her laptop. ‘Crystal meth is the main drug in Tasmania. I’m going to head into Hobart and pick up the instruments I need from the uni – I’ve got a friend who still works there. I know that I’d get flagged if I tried to buy them myself, even with my background . . .’

‘Stop it, Shelby!’

‘I mean, I’m a bit rusty . . .’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘But . . .’