He’d warned them during the preliminary interview at the boulder field that he suspected Frankie was a dangerous drug baron who was staking out a claim on Shacktown. Linda had made a sceptical face, and he’d heard the doubt in her colleagues’ voices, but he didn’t care. He’d told them the truth; it wouldn’t take much investigating to prove him correct. He wondered how long it would be before the link to the Dempseys was fully investigated? No matter how this day ended, the Dempsey dynasty was at an end.

He knocked on the door again. ‘Ivy! It’s Ahab, let me in!’

Still no answer.

He walked around the house, to the front door. The path from the beach, white gravel lined with life rings.

At least he hadn’t broken his promise to his mother. He hadn’t betrayed his family. He’d simply pointed the police in the direction of Frankie. But his priority was getting back to Ivy and Davey – Frankie must have been a master manipulator to get herself onto Ivy’s payroll.

That’s when he spotted Mackenzie, dripping wet, staggering up the stairs from the beach below.

‘Mack?’ said Ahab.

Mackenzie’s face was mottled with bruises. His shirt and trousers were ripped and bloodstained. But, though he was limping worse than Ahab had seen before, he walked like he owned every step he took. And he still wore his gold chain.

‘What happened?’ said Ahab.

‘Ivy happened.’

He sounded calm. No, he sounded furious. No . . . he sounded ready for murder.

‘Ivy? What . . .?’

‘Yes,’ said Mackenzie softly. ‘Ivy.’

With those two simple words, everything fell into place in Ahab’s mind.

Ahab had said it himself. That’s the thing about Dempseys. We lie.

Vance’s voice: She’ll kill me! Why’d he been so scared?

Because he’d just killed Ivy Dempsey’s grandson.

How had he been so blind? Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?

‘Ivy is Blackbeard,’ said Ahab.

‘Yeah,’ said Mackenzie. He wiped his nose, stopping to take a breath. ‘We have to stop her. Whatever it takes.’ He spoke softly, but there was no weakness in his words. That man who’d shown up on Ahab’s boat, panicked and confused, was gone. In his place was someone else. Beaten, bruised and hurting, yes . . . but someone resolute.

Ahab had sent the police after Frankie. He needed to call them back. ‘We should call the police,’ said Ahab.

Before they could do anything, the front door swung open. Ivy stood there, wearing an immaculate apron, a knife in her hand.

‘Hello, dears.’ She looked the picture of control. ‘Why don’t you come inside.’

It wasn’t a question.

‘We need to go, Mack,’ said Ahab, backing away from Ivy. ‘We have to tell the police.’