Detective Sean Carter slammed his palm on the desk and spun in his chair. "Got 'em." His boss, Chief Detective Glen Pavardy gave him a curious look. Sean beamed. "The fingerprints. In the Hawkins' case. I've got a match, a robbery gone wrong at the Seven Eleven on Hoad Place a week ago. No charges laid but fingerprints were taken."

The man was easy to find. They arrested him and hauled him into the station.

Sean and Glen observed Ricky Snider through the one-way mirror. An eel of an operator; he sat in the interrogation room jerking his leg and scratching his forearms.

"How has he never been picked up before?" Sean said, "Look at him. One of the finest examples of Australian scum that I've ever seen."

Glen clapped Sean on the shoulder. "Good work." He nudged his head toward the door. "Let's go and see what he has to say for himself. You take the lead, he's your find."

"Thanks, boss." Sean put his hand on the doorknob and stepped inside the room.

"Hi, Ricky." He held his hand out and said, "I'm Detective Sean Carter."

Ricky jerked his fingers forward. He pulled them back and then took hold of the detective's palm. "What's this about? I ain't done nothing. It wasn't me who held up that shop. I was just there to get cigs."

Sean ignored him, pointed at Glen and said, "This is Chief Detective Glen Pavardy." He sat sideways at the desk. "We got no dramas with you, Ricky. It's not about the Seven Eleven." Sean stretched his legs and added, "Look, it's like this, mate. We have a long-unsolved ongoing case and believe you might be able to give us some pointers."

Glen smiled. Sean was using the, I'm your best buddy approach. He took the available chair and studied Ricky's reactions.

"I don't know nothing," Ricky said.

"I haven't asked you anything yet." Sean grinned. "I gotta read you your rights first."

Sean stopped reading and looked at Ricky. "So, you understand everything?"

Ricky nodded. Sean slid the form in front of him and held out a pen. "Great, I need you to sign here. It says we've read you your rights and you understand what they are."

Ricky yanked his body back as if the pen was on fire. "You said I'm not in trouble. Why do I gotta sign that?"

"It's a legal thing we do with everyone we question. You never know, you might be able to tell us something helpful. If it's put before a court, we have to be able to tell the judge you knew your rights and told us of your own free will." Sean smiled and held the pen toward him.

"Ok." Ricky frowned and signed his name. He dropped the pen as if it had scorched him, then scratched his forearms again.

"Great. Thanks, Ricky. We believe you're a mate of Beau Hawkins."

Ricky jerked back in his seat once more. "He ain't my mate. Fucking cunt."

Sean let out a breath. This was progress. "So, you do know him?"

"Yeah, I know him but he ain't my mate."

"Ricky. When was the last time you saw Beau?"

"Months ago. Maybe a year. I don't remember. It was him who came to see me. Not me seeing him."

"Ok, no worries." Sean smiled again. "Can you tell us about it?"

"Am I gonna get into trouble?" Ricky's leg bounced like a tennis ball. His head yoyoed from one officer to the other. "Cause I never did anything. Just owed some money." He sucked in a breath and wheezed it out. "I got problems alright. The drugs has got me." He scratched his neck and took another breath. "The cunt came to my place and gave me a hiding. I couldn't pay so he gave me my due. He did it a few times. It's what he does. That's all."

"I'm a little confused." Sean screwed up his face. "You bought your drugs from Hawkins and then couldn't pay him so he beat you up. Is that what you're saying?"

"No!" Ricky trembled. "I don't buy my gear from him."

Sean put his hand on Ricky's shoulder. "Steady on, mate. Do you want a drink?" He filled one of the available cups with water from the jug and placed it in front of Ricky. "How about you settle down and start again."

Ricky gulped some water. "Hawkins is the messenger. I got my drugs from Shevlin. If you can't pay, Hawkins delivers the message, if you know what I mean."

"Who's Shevlin?"

"I ain't telling you that. He's just a guy. Ok." Ricky trembled again as he gripped the glass. Water splashed over the rim. "Hawkins is one of his fighters. They're both fighters." He lifted the tumbler to his mouth and swallowed its contents. "I ain't saying no more. Haven't seen either of them for a long time. Got a new supplier so I'm not saying. I know my rights."

Sean looked at his Chief.

Glen stood and dragged his chair around to sit closer to Ricky. He leaned forward, and then said, "Ricky we've got your fingerprints on Beau Hawkins' car. The car was covered in blood and Hawkins is missing. What do you say to that?"

Ricky pushed his chair further away from the desk. "I don't know nothing about it!"

"We think you do." Glen opened his folder. "How about you try real hard to remember." He placed a picture of Beau Hawkins' Ute on the table.

"I didn't know it was his car." Ricky pushed the picture away. "I seen it, yeah, but I didn't know it was his."

"When did you see it?"

"Long time ago. Out near my aunts. It was just there in the middle of nowhere so I checked it out. Took some cash out of the glove box but that was all."

"How much cash, Ricky?"

"A tenner and some change. I swear to God that's all I took."

Glen nodded. "So, you didn't take a toolbox?"

"I told you, just the tenner. Car looked like shit, like someone had an accident. I figured they wouldn't be needing the money." He clawed his neck and arms. "I gotta go. I know my rights"

"Alright. In a minute. We need to take your details in case we need to talk to you again." Glen paused. "You understand that, Ricky? Give Sean your address so we can check it against our records. If we need to talk to you again, we'll be in contact." Glen pushed out of his chair. He stood before asking, "Who did you say your aunt was?"

"Aunt Sally. Out on Delaney Road. Sally Trappes. She's, my aunty."

My, my, my. So Sally is Ricky's aunt. 

And who is Shevlin?