‘Marlene Mary Crowfeather married Moses James Hunting Wolf. They had three children, but only one survived and you’re holding his hand.’

She squeezed it in response. Katie’s heart was beating faster. She was frightened at the tenor of Sam’s voice that had taken on an unfamiliar pitch, and frightened of what he was going to tell her that made it so hard for him to do so. Strange. She had been shocked and angry at what he had done to Gerry and Ann, but now she was scared. She listened.

‘I lost my front teeth too when I was a kid. Moses tried to pull me out from under the box-bed in the back of the cabin while Marlene held on to his legs, screaming. I could see her face from under there, and she was yelling at him in Cree to leave her baby alone. Her baby.’ Sam made a sour face. ‘Can’t recall what I did to make him so mad. Most likely nothing. And when he couldn’t pull me out, he took an iron fence-post and stabbed it around under there till he got me. I was lucky it was the teeth. He was aiming to get an eye or break a bone. I was six. You grow more teeth.’

He kept his eyes closed, but he could hear Katie’s breathing and knew she was starting to cry.

‘And the strange thing is I would have lost my cherry on the floor like you too if I hadn’t have grabbed a beer bottle out from under my Pappy’s chair and smashed it on his head while he tried to hold me down. He never did get his old rocks off on me, ’cause I was eight then and I could run and hide in the woods for weeks and no one could find me. No, I lost my cherry to a white girl who nearly ripped it off me. Darcy Jenkins.’

You mished yourshelf, Shammy.

Jesus. No. Sam bit his lower lip at the thought of the horror. Carry on. Get it out. Katie was still there. The world hadn’t ended. Yet.

‘Moses beat Marlene so bad she lost an eye, then he let her die on her own vomit when he and his buddies were all juiced on pure ethanol.’

‘Oh Sam. My God.’

Katie was weeping again now. The hand that was not gripping his like a vice, was over her mouth trying to hold back her grief.

‘Had a talent for killing. He killed my Grandpappy. Eden James Hunting Wolf. Used to be the Kinchuinick chief and shaman. Killed him for this dumb thing.’

He put his hand inside his clothes without opening his eyes and flicked out the small bone amulet. It flopped onto the fabric of his sweater and hung there innocently while its owner continued to horrify his wife.

‘Worth killing an old man for, huh?’