‘Sorry,’ he said, wiping his mouth. ‘Why are you here, buddy?’

‘They were keeping me locked up in that hospital.’ He shivered and folded his arms around himself. ‘I won’t be locked up again.’

Locked up. Tattooed. Beaten. Tortured?

‘Why are you here?’ Mackerel said. ‘H-how did you get here?’

‘I stole some money. I hired a taxi.’

‘You stole —’

‘You’re the only one I can trust,’ Forest said. ‘The . . . the shells told me.’

‘What?’ Mack stood up, banging his head on the bottom of the bunk above yet again. He swore loudly, spilling beer.

‘You’re the only one I can trust,’ repeated Forest, careful eyes on Mack. ‘And I’m so, so sorry about Uncle Davey.’

Mackerel sometimes thought of what he’d say to Jesse and Alexandra if they ever returned. Not often – he spent most of his life trying to repress their absence, and the part of him that was guiltily relieved Jesse was no longer around. But never, not once, had he thought about what he’d say to Forest.

Now the boy was here, and Mackerel was fucking drunk again.

Mack didn’t know how to respond, thoughts foggy. He dimly heard the doorbell ring.

‘Okay . . .’ he said. ‘Just . . . just stay here. I need to get some water . . . I need to sober up.’

As soon as he closed the door to his room, he tumbled into Big Mane, who looked flustered.

‘I’ve gotta call Ahab,’ said Mackerel.

‘We’ve got other problems,’ said Big Mane. ‘The cops are here. Bail check.’

Mackerel froze. What to do?

Family business stayed family business.

So he couldn’t let them find Forest Dempsey in his house . . .

‘Call Ahab. Tell him Forest is here. He’ll know what to do.’

‘Mack? Are you here?’ shouted Linda’s voice from the doorway.

‘Yeah, I’m here,’ he said.

The door was flung open, and three police officers piled in. Constable Linda and the two detectives, De Corrado and Smith.

‘Mackerel, can you step into the bathroom, please,’ said Linda. She’d rediscovered her professional tone since this morning. ‘We need to UT you.’

Mackerel nodded, keeping his eyes on the detectives. Why were they here?

In the bathroom, he unzipped his pants and pissed into the cup, Linda standing close so she could see the urine leaving his penis. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish they could bring a male officer to do this part.

She put on rubber gloves and he handed her the cup. She dipped a testing cartridge in, took it out, then waited. Five minutes, they waited. Linda seemed certain something would eventually show on the cartridge.

Mackerel finished the rest of his piss in the toilet, flushed, closed the lid and sat down. There was no point leaving until the urine test was done.

Finally Linda looked up. ‘You’re clean.’