With the tiny torch still between his teeth, he opened the envelope and went through the hundred or so pages Clarke had sent under the guise of legal mail – which was the only type of mail that could not be opened by anyone other than the inmate it had been addressed to. Most of it was rubbish: fake court transcripts and fake case notes. But buried in the middle of the stack was the document Jax was looking for – an update from Clarke.

J,

An inmate named Mahmud Elias has been identified as a person of interest. Can you please investigate. Attached is his police file. I expect a full and complete report.

C.

Jax opened the file and read on:

Elias, Mahmud.

Age: 64

Country of birth: Syria

Home address: 248 Wanga Road, Greenmount, NSW

Weight: 73 kg

Height: 181 cm

Eye colour: Brown

Hair colour: Brown

Charge or charges: Unlawful Importation of Firearms; Conspiracy to Murder; Threatening or Intimidating Victims or Witnesses; Conspiracy to Escape from Lawful Custody.

Sentence: Jailed for a minimum of sixteen years and six months.

Appearance: Slightly built and standing at just over 180 cm. Of Middle Eastern descent, Mr Elias is a first-generation Australian. He migrated from Syria in 1978. He has olive skin, brown eyes and dark hair. Mr Elias is known to wear his hair short, and has stage 2 male pattern baldness. He was clean shaven at the time of his last court appearance. Mr Elias has a three-inch scar on his left knee. He also suffers from a mild form of vitiligo, which has caused minor skin spotting and discolouration on his lower left arm. Mr Elias has no tattoos. He has no known ailments, other than his skin condition, that affect his physical appearance. His teeth are slightly yellowed with tartar build-up noticeable towards the gum. He also suffers from mild gingivitis, which gives him slightly pronounced teeth due to gum recession.

Notes: Regarded by others in his community as a mufti, an authority on Islamic law. But compliant and not considered dangerous. Transferred to a maximum-security facility following a foiled escape attempt from a medium-security facility.

After reading the update, Jax stashed the bundle of pages back into the bottom of his box shelves and replaced the false front. He wouldn’t need to read the file again, but he couldn’t risk putting them in the bin.

‘SHIT,’ Khalil said. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

He swung his feet from his bed and looked at his wristwatch – a prison buy-up no-name – with an evil eye, as if it had betrayed him, then smacked his finger into its LCD screen, either to check it was working or to punish it. Jax couldn’t be sure.

‘What’s wrong with this thing,’ Khalil said. ‘Stupid alarm didn’t go off.’