Now Mackerel felt panic rise up. Why had no one told him? He thought of Forest, and Shelby, and Kane. He thought of Big Mane.

No. It wasn’t his job to fight Blackbeard. That’s why Davey made the big bucks.

‘No, Salvatore. I’m staying out of it. Davey will handle it.’

‘Are you sure he can?’

There was something about Salvatore’s tone.

‘Salvatore . . .’ said Mackerel slowly. ‘How do you know all this?’

‘If you repeat what I’m about to tell you, I could die a very unpleasant death,’ said Sal, his voice dropping again.

‘He’s contacted you, hasn’t he?’ said Mackerel. ‘Blackbeard has already made contact with you.’

‘He sent one of his lackeys this morning.’ Salvatore swallowed and wiped a sheen of sweat off his brow. ‘Blackbeard wants me to launder his money. Or he’ll burn down this café.’

Mackerel winced. All those customers, living their happy lives, blissfully unaware of the criminality all around them. And why would they notice? They’d never crossed that line. Not like poor Salvatore. He was just like Mackerel, desperately trying to get out of a world that you could never truly leave behind.

But that was a bold move from Blackbeard, showing himself so soon.

‘Forest was only found this morning. Why’s he moving so fast?’

‘Davey hasn’t been seen since returning to shore this morning,’ said Salvatore meaningfully.

Mackerel stood up in a rush. ‘What do you know about Davey?’

‘Sit back down,’ hissed Salvatore. ‘And lower your voice!’

Mackerel stayed standing. ‘Davey wouldn’t abandon us to Blackbeard.’

‘That’s not what I’m saying! But no one has seen him. And that’s an awfully big ocean out there . . .’

Mackerel felt sick. In his mind’s eye, he saw the sunken boat, the words ‘THE SIRENS CURSE’ on her prow.

All men of Dempsey blood were cursed to find incredible fortune, followed by incredible misfortune. Ahab, Mackerel, Jesse . . . they’d all been struck by the curse, as his father had. Davey was the only one who had escaped it. So far.

‘No. Davey will keep him out,’ said Mackerel woodenly. ‘He knows what he’s doing.’

‘And if he can’t?’ Salvatore gestured around his café. Mackerel saw the sweat marks under his arms. ‘Without Davey, you’re the only one who can help.’

‘Are you trying to keep me out of prison or send me back?’ cried Mackerel.

Now people were turning to look at them. Salvatore stood up and went to attend to his customers.

Mackerel slumped back down into his chair. If something had happened to Davey, then . . .

No. Davey was fine. He always was.

Something caught his eye. A little red-crested robin had flown in through the open windows. It fluttered against the nearby glass, desperate to get out. Mackerel lurched back to his feet and limped over to open the sliding door.