As well as tourists, the Darling attracted all types of locals: fishermen, farmers, snooty business people, unemployed bludgers. There were even a few of the mainland Australians who moved to Shacktown and drove an hour and a half to Hobart every day for work. To a Tasmanian, such a long commute was unheard of, borderline insane. To someone from Melbourne or Sydney, it was a pleasant morning drive on a scenic coast.

His eyes were drawn to a dark-haired woman who entered through the heavy timber doors. She was dressed in a pantsuit and dragging a small suitcase behind her. She took in the whole room at a glance, identifying all of the exits. The draft coming through the closing door lifted up the hem of her jacket, revealing a firearm in a holster.

She smiled at someone, and Ahab followed her gaze. It was Constable Linda – off duty and drinking with her girlfriends – who raised her glass to her.

The newcomer sat by herself at a table in the far corner, beneath a wired dolphin skeleton. She caught Ahab’s eye, raised an eyebrow, and tapped the table.

He slung his tea towel over his shoulder and nudged Ned out of a conversation with a pretty blonde tourist, whom he was trying to convince to come dirtbiking with him. It was time for Ned to take over the barman duties.

He walked over to the dark-haired woman. Detective, he guessed. She watched him all the way, her expression wary.

‘Welcome to the Mermaid’s Darling,’ said Ahab. He pulled a chair out from the table and turned it backwards, sitting down with his forearms resting on the back.

‘Master Publican,’ she said.

‘Hey, Ahab,’ said Constable Linda, wandering over. She patted Ahab on the shoulder. ‘I see you’ve met Detective De Corrado.’

‘We hadn’t got to names yet,’ said Ahab.

‘She’s working your cousin’s case.’ Linda leaned closer to Ahab, her touch on his shoulder slightly possessive. ‘Everyone at the station took your advice. Thanks for that. I’ve told her she can rely on you.’ She gave De Corrado one last smile, then walked off towards the bar.

‘You’re well liked by the local cops, you know?’ said De Corrado.

‘Small town,’ said Ahab. ‘And this is the best pub in it. Most people know me.’

‘There’s a difference between being known and being liked, Ahab Stark,’ said De Corrado. ‘Particularly for someone of the Dempsey dynasty.’

Ahab bowed his head. ‘At your service.’ Then added, ‘Out of interest, what do the local cops think of the Dempsey dynasty?’

‘Oh, whatever Ivy pays them to think, I imagine,’ said De Corrado.