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‘No thanks.’ The thought of food made his stomach churn. A feeling of detachment from the real world precluded any normal activities like eating or sleeping. Even talking was difficult. Kane’s feelings were heading in a downward spiral but he made the effort to look at Ellie and answer her. ‘Coffee will be fine.’

They stepped through the sliding doors onto the kerb. The bright light shining over the hospital entrance bathed it in a surreal glow and sharpened the corners of the building. An ambulance was backing into the emergency bay with its lights flashing and the blue light made macabre shadows on Ellie’s face.

Kane took a deep breath and held Ellie’s arm as they crossed the road towards the car park. ‘Come on. Let’s get out of this place.’

He drove behind Ellie in his Jeep and followed her towards the city. She took the last turn before the city precinct and turned into Tiger Brennan Drive. The motel was down on the harbour – not the exclusive side of Cullen Bay, but down towards the semi-industrial area where there was a push to make it more attractive to tourists. As Kane followed her small car through the deserted streets, he came to a decision. After they reached the motel and he had seen Ellie safely inside, he was going to find Panos.

Now. Tonight. Kane didn’t care if it was the middle of the night. The death of your wife was not the sort of news anyone deserved to hear over the phone.

Ellie swung her little sedan through a wide archway one street back from the waterfront. Kane parked on the road and walked into the small car park at the side of the motel. The receptionist had promised the keys would be left in the door of their rooms. He pulled his phone out and scrolled down to Sordina’s number as he walked across the road.

This time Sordina picked up after a couple of rings.

Finally.

‘Panos, it’s Kane. Where have you been? I’ve been leaving messages for you for the last twenty-four hours.’

‘Wha . . . who?’ The voice was slurred and Kane clamped his lips together in anger. It was obvious now. His wife had died while he was out on a binge. Not only a gambler, it seemed Sordina had a drinking problem as well.

‘It’s Kane. Are you in the city? I need to see you.’ Kane kept his voice calm, holding back the harsh words that were on his tongue. He glanced across at Ellie. She stood silhouetted in the doorway of one of the rooms.

‘Iss the fuckin’ middle of the night.’ Panos sounded like a petulant child.

‘I need to see you now,’ Kane repeated. ‘Where are you?’

‘My office. I was asleep.’

‘Meet me at the 24-hour McDonald’s at the harbour end of McMinn Street.’ There was no way he was going to his office to meet his stepfather, he’d end up fucking killing him. But the McDonald’s was around the corner. He’d met his mother there a couple of years ago on his final deployment. Kane’s voice was icy and calm. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes. And Panos? Walk there. You don’t sound as though you are in any fit state to drive.’

‘Wass it for?’

‘Be there. Ten minutes.’ Kane slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked over to the motel room where Ellie had stood in the doorway. The door was still open but he couldn’t see her. He poked his head inside. ‘Ellie?’

She looked up from the small kitchenette on the other side of the room.

‘I’ll be back in half an hour. I’m going to tell Sordina that –’ Kane cut his words off. He couldn’t bring himself to say them. Mum was gone, but he couldn’t yet put it into words.

‘So you found him? Do you want me to come?’

‘No. I need to do this on my own.’

She gave him a sad smile and walked over to the door with him. ‘I’ll wait up for you till you get back.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I want to.’

Kane looked down at her. He wondered if she knew how much it meant to him, having her there with him tonight – or rather this morning. ‘Thank you.’

*

Panos Sordina landed on his knees as he missed the single step from his office to the street and his iPhone flew from his hands, skittering into the gutter in front of the wheels of a dark car parked at the kerb. ‘Bugger.’ As he scrabbled around for the phone, the vehicle’s headlights came on, almost blinding him. He put a hand up to shield his eyes and shook his fist at the driver.

‘Bloody wanker!’

He spotted the phone in the gutter and bent down to pick it up. His head swam. Taking a deep breath, he made a conscious effort to clear his mind, but that last mouthful of whisky he’d drunk before passing out at his desk had been one too many. He leaned across the gutter and retched. The whisky burned his throat as it came up, the sour smell of his own vomit disgusting him.

What the fuck did his stupid stepson want this late at night anyway? He slipped his work phone into the pocket of his trousers. He’d expected the call to be from Fairweather, but the other phone had been silent for two full days. Panos reached into his shirt pocket and pulled it out. He needed to beg; he didn’t want out – that had been a stupid thing to say. He needed the money.