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in the front seat, started the fire and pushed it over the edge. And drove away.’ She paused, then carried on, ‘It was a two-person job. One to drive the ute, one to drive the getaway vehicle.’

‘Professional,’ said Rispoli with a hiss of admiration.

Emmaline nodded. ‘Not the work of amateurs anyway.’

80

Lorcan

Neither Mallon nor his son were keen on future payment plans. Cash for goods only, credit denied. Besides, Lorcan doubted that he had any credit. For ever indebted. He had the brick, tin and beam but had foolishly left the bag of cement partially open and the swirling wind had carried the bulk of it off to distant climes and other houses in need of repair.

Money was the problem. The miners weren’t budging. He had been subtle, then less subtle. Which left only one option. A last resort. He had been scared to do it before but it had been three weeks so maybe Nikos was desperate. There was a chance he could get something for nothing. That would serve Nikos right.

Finding the sole payphone in Hurton, he phoned Phil.

‘I’ll meet you.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow, Durston Park in Wisbech. Bring money.’

‘How much?’

‘Tell him if it’s not enough, I keep it.’

‘Okay.’

‘And just you, Phil. Not him.’

‘Got it.’

Lorcan hung up. His entire body was shaking, the battle-weary army of regret fighting the amped-up army of need. He put his hand on the post box outside of the grocery store to steady himself. A place where post was collected and delivered three times a week. A lonely postal route.

‘Mr Maguire?’

Lorcan didn’t recognize the voice. The armies inside his body called a temporary truce, banding together against a common threat.

The man approached with a smile that was hidden by his beard. At least Lorcan thought it was a smile. It might have been a sneer of hatred. His suit was light grey and probably torturous to wear on a summer day like this. Had Nikos found out where they were and sent someone?

A hand shot out. Lorcan let it hang there.

‘I know your wife,’ said the bearded man. That didn’t help Lorcan’s understanding. Or his nerves. ‘Well, I’ve met her. I hear you have a child.’

Another blast of nerves triggered through his body. Lorcan was caught between fight or flight.

‘How do—?’

‘I’m Greg Williams. I teach at the school.’

The school. Dylan. Naiyana had checked it out. The build-up of blood in his muscles drained suddenly leaving him woozy. And ill.

‘When will one of you be visiting the school? We need time to register Dylan, complete the paperwork, etc. We’re looking forward to having him. He’s lucky. We have two brand new computers this term. Thank goodness for hardship grants!’

Lorcan put his hand up. ‘Wait, has my wife not already been to see it? Last week?’

Greg Williams shook his head. ‘No. She said she’d visit before Christmas but she never did. We were installing the new machines right up to Christmas Eve. They go perfectly with the new mobile.’

‘So the school isn’t run-down?’

Greg looked a little offended at this. ‘It could do with some more work of course, but compared to most buildings…’ he said, glancing around the town for comparison.

Lorcan, however, was lost in his own thoughts. Nee had stated that the school seemed okay, old, dusty and definitely not modern. The opposite to what this guy was saying. Had she seen it from outside? But the new mobile would surely have been obvious. It had been back when she didn’t want to stick around, so was it merely a ruse to persuade him to leave?

Or a ruse to meet up with someone else? Someone from the charity? That MP? BS Foods? He knew all too well that illicit meetings could be arranged. Moving hadn’t improved their personal lives any more than the work-child-work-sleep pattern had in Perth. In fact, it seemed they had even more secrets than before.

81

Lorcan

Lorcan peeked in through the shutters. Naiyana was with Dylan, reading a story to him while relaxing on the plastic sun lounger. He decided not to confront her about the school. Not now. He might need to blow off some steam after his next job. One last attempt to wrangle his fair share of the profits from the neighbours. Targeting Ian this time. Their leader. If that failed then blackmailing Nikos was a runner.

Eventually, the three men came to the surface, joking amongst themselves, their day done.

‘Again?’ sighed Mike, wrapping his used gum in paper and shoving it in his pocket. ‘You got nothing better to do?’

‘It looks like I don’t,’ sniped Lorcan, before focusing on Ian, who was wiping his grimy face with a cloth. ‘Good day?’

‘G’day to you,’ smiled Ian, joking.

Lorcan forced a smile. ‘No, was it a good day down there?’

Ian’s smile dropped to a rueful shake of the head.

‘Nothing?’

‘Very little.’

‘That’s a lie.’

Ian frowned.

Lorcan continued. ‘If it was you wouldn’t be giggling like idiots. And now you’re off to a motel for the evening?’

Ian’s face was emotionless, his sharp eyes dulled, giving nothing away. But in the background Mike couldn’t resist a gloating nod.

‘Whereas we barely have enough to eat.’

‘It was the same for us when you came to town,’ said Stevie. ‘Stuck down there while you swanned around the place like you owned it. Just go back to Perth. There’s nothing for you here.’

It was a brutal and honest summary but also something beseeching in the request. As if a subtle warning. But Lorcan was having none of it.

‘There is something. Down there.’

‘Which we are best placed to extract,’ said Mike. ‘Much as I’m sure you know how to do something else – not house-building obviously – so go do that and leave us alone.’

Lorcan ignored the jibe. He swung towards Ian who retained his passive, calculating expression.

‘You’re obviously in charge,’ he said, glancing to see the scowl on Mike’s face. ‘We need help.’

82

Emmaline

It had been a struggle to get both the Forensics and the Recovery teams out here to this remote patch of

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