So, when it came down to it, she was scared. So why was she even considering this?

She turned the laptop around. ‘I found a recipe for cooking ice. It’s fairly straightforward. And I have an idea on where to get the precursors I’d need . . .’

‘Don’t do this,’ said Mackerel. ‘Not someone as smart as you. Don’t throw your life away.’

Guilt boiled in his stomach. He was the one who’d told her about the ice. His presence in her life had probably inspired the idea. No wonder Davey wanted to keep him away! Why did he have to tell her about Chips?

‘I wanted you to help me.’ Her voice trembled. ‘But if you won’t, I’m going to do it alone. Just for a week. Just to see what I can find out about Blackbeard . . . if it becomes too dangerous, I’ll stop.’

‘No. I won’t let you do this.’

‘You can’t stop me. All it takes is one call to the police. I could tell them I don’t feel safe with you here, or that you’ve been breaking your curfew, or . . . or that you’ve been looking up recipes for ice . . .’ She tapped the laptop. ‘You’ll go straight back to jail. Don’t try to get in my way, Mackerel. I’m doing this, with or without you.’

He put his head in his hands. He pulled at his hair.

And then he sat up. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay what?’

If she wanted to come into the game . . . If he helped her, at least he could protect her from herself. Was that right? Could he?

‘One week. You said it’ll only be for one week. Right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I’ll help you.’ The words coming out of his mouth felt like spewing acid, leaving his throat raw. His whole body tensed up, a weight pressing on him like the pressure of the deepest ocean.

She sagged into the couch. ‘Thank you, Mackerel.’ She put her arm across her eyes. ‘Thank you . . .’

CHAPTER 37

AHAB

Ahab’s boat, the Ambergris, bobbed near the giant cliffs, anchored close to a reef in a guarded cove. The Ambergris was his great love. Built from Huon pine and celery, it was styled like a traditional rear wheelhouse fishing boat. Twenty-eight-tonne displacement, three cabins under the focsle hatch.

Unlike the rigid inflatable boat, which was good for quick trips and the only thing that could’ve handled the Black Wind, this was his true love. This design had been tried, tested and modified for Tasmanian conditions over a century by the Wilson Boat Yard on the Huon River. She had nice curves with a high flared bow, a broad beam, wide gunnels, panoramic views from the windows all around the generously sized wheelhouse. An artist had hand-lettered Ambergris and Pirates Bay on her stern.