‘So,’ he said. ‘Interesting strategy you’ve got going on here, young Stephen. Some might say downright insane, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.’

‘What strategy?’

Double-take, amused. ‘Hello? Remember me? We’ve met before. We’ve worked together. Your aw-shucks-little-old-me act won’t fly here.’

I said, ‘What strategy are we talking about?’

Mackey sighed. ‘OK. I’ll play. Hooking up with Antoinette Conway. I’d love to know: what’s your plan there?’

‘No plan. I got the chance to work a murder, I took it.’

Mackey’s eyebrow went up. ‘I hope for your sake you’re still playing innocent, kid. How much do you know about Conway?’

‘She’s a good D. Works hard. Going places, fast.’

He waited. When he realised I was done: ‘That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?’

I shrugged. Seven years on and Mackey’s eye could still make me squirm, still turn me into a kid gone insta-thick at an oral exam. ‘Up till today, I didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about her.’

‘There’s a grapevine. There’s always gossip. You’re above that kind of thing?’

‘Not above it. Just never picked up anything about Conway.’

Mackey sighed, shoulders sagging. Ran a hand through his hair, shook his head. ‘Kid. Stephen.’ His voice had gone gentle. ‘In this gig, you need to make friends. Have to. Otherwise you won’t last.’

‘I’m lasting grand. And I’ve got friends.’

‘Not the kind I’m talking about. You need real friends, kid. Friends who have your back. Who tell you the things you need to know. Who don’t let you prance straight into a shit tornado without even giving you a heads-up.’

‘Like you?’

‘I’ve done OK for you so far. Haven’t I?’

‘I said thanks.’

‘And I’d like to think you meant it. But I don’t know, Stephen. I’m not feeling the love.’

‘If you’re my best buddy,’ I said, ‘go ahead and tell me what you think I need to know about Conway.’

Mackey leaned back against the wall. He wasn’t bothering to smoke his fag; it had done its job. He said, ‘Conway’s a leper, kid. She didn’t mention that?’

‘Hasn’t come up.’ I didn’t ask why she was a leper. He was going to tell me anyway.

‘Well, she’s not a whiner, anyway. I suppose that’s one plus.’ He flicked ash. ‘You’re no thicko. You had to have some clue that Conway’s never going to win Miss Congeniality. You didn’t mind teaming up with that?’

‘Like I said. I’m not looking for a new best friend.’