‘Bloody hell, Mack, we both know how things are in the drug world, and so does Davey. Everyone knows you weren’t in your right mind four years ago. The only issue is that the crew you ran in Brisbane – you were too good at it. That’s why Davey’s mad. He realises that if you’d pulled off the mutiny, you would’ve been a good bloody captain. Davey is too perfect, too good, he talks too well – it makes him hard to follow as a leader, and arrogant as fuck. The crew would follow you. You’re more at their level. They’d respect you.’

‘Yeah, thanks, Sal,’ muttered Mackerel, ‘I really want to be told I’m at the same level as a crew of drug smugglers.’

‘You’re missing the point! You need to look forward.’ Sal forced him to look up. ‘What’s the first rule of scuba diving?’

That question caught him off guard. ‘Don’t hold your breath?’

‘Exactly. Keep breathing. Keep swimming, Mopey Fish.’

‘For what? In seven months I’ll be back in prison —’

‘Stop whining! Prison isn’t set in stone! Can’t you see it?’ Salvatore threw up his hands. ‘Ah, it’s no good talking to you.’

‘What can’t I see, Sal?’

‘I really hoped you would’ve thought of this yourself.’ Salvatore reached for Mackerel’s coffee, which hadn’t been touched, and drank. ‘Your nephew returning is your chance. Seven months . . . imagine what you could achieve in seven months. Imagine if you found out what happened to Forest Dempsey. If you solved the mystery. No judge would sentence you to prison after that.’

Mackerel hesitated. ‘I’m not going to use Forest’s suffering for my own needs. He’s got enough people poking at him and crowding him.’

‘Imagine what your family would do if you solved the mystery . . .’ continued Salvatore.

That was tempting.

He shook his head. It was stupid, there was nothing he could do. Why was Salvatore trying to get his hopes up like this?

‘Fine, how about something else . . .’ Salvatore’s voice was serious. He gestured at Mackerel with the coffee cup. ‘Something only you can do, to protect your nephew.’

‘What are you talking about, Salvatore! Spit it out.’

‘Listen to me carefully, Mack . . .’ His voice lowered to barely a whisper, so much so that Mackerel had to strain to hear. ‘Blackbeard is coming.’

Mackerel’s blood ran cold.

‘Impossible. Davey always keeps —’

‘Yes, yes, I know, your big brother Davey Dempsey and his incredibly well-oiled drug machine keeps Blackbeard away . . . But now that Forest has returned, half of Dempsey Abalone will return to him. Don’t you see? If Davey has only half the business, half the money, half the legitimacy – half the power – that’s not enough to hold the Business forever, to maintain a foothold in Shacktown. Blackbeard will find a way in. He’s been trying for years.’