We waited on the winter evening pavement, rocks in the city stream, trams squealing behind us, leaning against a car not our own, Cam smoking a Gitane, the pungent blue smoke drifting to me, wrapping around my face, making me eighteen again.
They came out, dark overcoats, handsome, she wore a scarlet scarf, long, not wound around her neck, just a loose knot on the chestbone.
I took two paces across the space. They saw me.
‘Jack,’ said Tony Haig. He had perfect teeth, a wry, welcoming smile. ‘Coming to Corsica?’
I was obstructing the pedestrian traffic, people had to walk around me. I didn’t care. ‘The River Plaza,’ I said. ‘The dead girl.’
Dogteeth holes in my shoulder, the three good-looking people, rich people, they owned the world, we were just bugs, Wayne said that, we looked at one another, a metre separating us.
‘Come inside and talk,’ said Steven Massiani. ‘This is solvable.’
I looked at Corin Sleeman. There were thin lines running down beside her mouth.
‘She wasn’t dead, Corin,’ I said. ‘Did they tell you she was dead? Did they tell you Senator Londregan killed her? She was alive. Katelyn was alive. They took her away and gave her to crazies to kill. Did they tell you that?’
She looked at me and I knew who had sent the man to give me Janene’s name. ‘What about Janene Ballich, Corin?’ I said. ‘She had to die too, didn’t she?’
Corin was looking down, her eyes closed.
‘And then there was Mickey,’ I said. ‘And Sarah Longmore.’
‘Jack, Jack,’ said Tony Haig, ‘you’re not well, you need a rest.’
‘Can’t live with something like this, can you, Corin?’ I said. ‘Do you dream about it?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I can’t live with it anymore.’
She did not raise her head, crossed the space and came to me, put her hands out to me like a child seeking comfort.
I put out my hands, my sleeves pulled back, the handcuff showing.
‘For Christ’s sake, Corin, shut up,’ said Massiani. ‘Just shut fucking up.’
‘Let’s go,’ I said.
We walked down the street, Cam behind us. At the corner, I looked back. Haig and Massiani hadn’t moved, eyes on us.
In the car, I rang Barry Tregear.
‘It’s about some murders,’ I said. ‘I’m bringing someone to make a statement. There’ll be another witness arriving tonight. They’ll both need protection.’
He coughed, a cigarette cough. ‘What about you?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘not now. I know for certain now.’