‘You know that if your brother is up to something, I’ll find out,’ she said.

‘That’s just a bluff,’ said Mackerel. ‘You’re here about Forest, not Davey.’

De Corrado looked at him intently, her face softly illuminated by the streetlight. ‘The problem is you’re so good at lying, you’re even lying to yourself.’

‘Heard that one before,’ he said. He passed her one of the bottles of pinot. ‘Want one?’

‘I don’t take bribes, so if you tell anyone I accepted this, I’ll lie,’ said De Corrado, taking the bottle from him and admiring it.

She nodded towards the house. ‘Sounds like Ahab got you off the hook for breaching your bail conditions. A man with that kind of power in a small town, it makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Well, anyway, I wouldn’t count on him being there to save you if it happens again.’

‘Thanks for the ride, detective,’ said Mackerel, undoing his seatbelt. ‘Remember what I told you about Shelby.’

‘You remember what I said about Shelby,’ she said. ‘And all those stories you have to tell? When you learned how bad human nature can be? If you ever want to sit down over a beer and talk about them, let me know. I’d be fascinated to hear what you saw in Brisbane. Full disclosure, it’s mostly so I can build up a better picture of your family. But I reckon you’ll know how to manipulate the conversation to keep me in the dark on the important facts.’

‘And you get to claim the cost of the beers as a work expense,’ said Mackerel.

‘You have been around the traps, haven’t you?’

‘Sweet dreams, detective,’ he said, and stepped out into the wind.

His smile faded as he walked in the front door, kicking his shoes off. He couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. A woman like Shelby.

The smell of Big Mane’s house – that male musk and deodorant smell – contrasted so much with Shelby’s honey candles. The wallpaper, peeling and bubbled and a startling shade of pale green. Threadbare carpet with a path worn down the middle.

He didn’t care. It was home. He was glad to be there with Big Mane. But there was no denying it was worlds away from Homeward.

Lights flicked on in the hallway and Big Mane came stumbling out of his bedroom, wrapping a dressing-gown around himself. ‘You good, bro?’

He rested a hand on the wall. He was still a bit drunk – although Big Mane could drink all day and all night and never so much as get a headache.

‘Let’s get those beers going,’ said Mack. He held up the pinot. ‘I need to get blind.’

Big Mane grinned. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’