Ahab gripped the receiver tighter. ‘You should’ve known you couldn’t keep him from me forever.’

‘I want him back within the hour, or I’m sending the police.’ She ended the call.

Ahab turned, watching the boy. What to do? He still hadn’t got his answers. It was now or never – it was time to find out what had happened to Forest, Jesse and Alexandra.

Forest sighed sadly. ‘Ivy, yeah?’ He gathered up the photo albums, walked to the cupboard and opened it, weighing each album in his hand before sliding it into place.

In the exact right order.

Exactly how they’d been before.

How did he know that?

He hadn’t been in the room when Ahab took them down.

Ahab’s eyes flicked down to Keegan, who was following Forest around, snuffling at his pockets. He was looking for treats. He only did that with Ahab, or when Ned brought him bacon – his favourite.

‘Are you okay, Ahab?’ said Forest, watching him.

There was something new in the boy’s face, something in his voice. He glanced at the cupboard, then back at Ahab.

Forest knew.

Forest knew he’d made a mistake, but he wasn’t sure what.

All of the facts started to join together in Ahab’s mind.

Keegan has seen Forest before.

Forest has taken down the photo albums before.

Forest has been here before.

He might not have been so suspicious if Forest had not wanted to do that trick with the shells, down on the beach.

It’s not really Forest Dempsey.

The thought hit Ahab in the belly with physical force. He had to sit down.

Forest’s forehead was a sheen of sweat. He approached. ‘Ahab?’

Ahab had to look away.

But what about the tattoo on his back?

Suddenly he was certain. The tattoo was perfect. The words brooked no argument.

THIS IS FOREST DEMPSEY

It was genius.

It was diabolical.

Ahab couldn’t remember grabbing the boy by the collar, but the next moment he’d slammed Forest against the wall.

‘Who are you?’

‘Put me down, Ahab.’ The boy spoke calmly, with an even tone, as though to a spooked animal. He didn’t resist, but it must’ve been hard to breathe. ‘You’re not making any sense, Ahab.’

Where was the supposedly traumatised boy? There was no sign of him now.

Ahab’s anger filled the room, his fury like a tidal wave. ‘Who. Are. You?’

Keegan growled, catching on to Ahab’s mood.

‘Put me down,’ whispered the boy, ‘or you’ll regret it.’

Ahab could have been a statue. The boy’s face turned red as Ahab’s forearm further constricted his breathing.

‘Why did you do it?’ snarled Ahab. ‘For the money?’

The boy stayed silent.

‘Or are you working for Blackbeard?’

A flutter of an eyelid. No.

‘Are Jesse and Alexandra dead? Is Forest?’

The boy kept his gaze.