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she'd take the trip soon.
    The travel agent enjoyed the experience. 'I think the hair was dyed,' he said.
    Tate nodded and made a note. 'Did she come back and book with you?'
    'Unfortunately, no.'
    'Thank you. You've been a big help.'
    'Remember us when your holidays come up.'
    'What holidays?' Tate said.
    He booked an afternoon Ansett flight to Cairns and then made a phone call.
    The man he called said, 'I'm just a messenger boy.'
    'Meet me in an hour. I want to send a message.'
    Tate was living in Randwick. The meeting took place in Centennial Park. As instructed, the man Tate was to meet faced the pond and did not turn around when Tate spoke to him.
    'Keep looking at the water,' Tate said.
    'Listen, I . . .'
    'No,
you
listen. Your people owe me fifteen grand.'
    'They're not happy.'
    'Eyes front, I said.'
    'There's complications.'
    'The complications are going away. The money'swhere it's supposed to be in two days' time. Understand?'
    The man nodded.
    'Remember that whore who finished up here?'
    'Jesus, was that you?'
    'No, but it's not a bad idea. I know how to find you and I'm good at getting answers to questions. Now, you just watch the ducks for five minutes and then trot off and deliver the message.'
    Tate strolled away towards the riding track. The man stood rigidly for ten minutes, eyes to the front.

6
    A thing that had been nagging Dunlop rose to the surface while he slept and was clear in his mind when the alarm woke him. Ava had been born in Cooktown. He had registered the fact when working through her file but forgotten it. In general, it was a bad policy to allow a client to come back to his or her roots. Dunlop kicked himself for his carelessness, then tried to rationalise the mistake away. He recalled that Ava had left north Queensland when she was thirteen. Thirty years was a long time, especially in this part of the world where so much had changed. Back then, Port Douglas must have been a fishing village, a speck on the map, and Cairns would have been a hick sugar town, surrounded by mangroves. Still, it was slack work on his part.
    His breakfast, ordered for six-thirty, arrived on time and he ate it on the balcony overlooking his lagoon. The bus driver had been right—the day had dawned fine and clear. There were light clouds out over the sea and the palm trees were moving in a slight breeze. It looked like Port Douglas was going to deliver what the tourists paid for. Dunlop read the
Cairns Post
from cover to cover while he waited forAva and Bushmill to stir. The American had jogging gear in his baggage, but Dunlop doubted he'd be jogging this morning.
    Activity began in the room next-door at nine-thirty and ten minutes later Ava came through the door. Her hair was a wild tangle and there were dark shadows under her eyes. She wore a white silk and lace nightdress that revealed much of her generous figure, but emphasised the paleness of her face. She spotted Dunlop's coffee pot and signalled for him to pour her a cup.
    'It'll be cold.'
    'I don't care. Anything liquid with a bit of a kick in it.'
    'You look terrible.'
    Ava's hand trembled when she lifted the coffee cup. 'We punished the mini-bar a bit.'
    'Jesus, on top of the load you had on already.'
    'Well, you're only young once. He was a pretty good fuck—I think. Anyway, no bruises.' She inspected her upper arms and shoulders. One full breast fell out of the nightdress and she didn't bother to cover it. The cup rattled as she replaced it on the saucer.
    'Safe sex?' Dunlop said.
    Ava moved her head suddenly to look at him. A shaft of light hit her face and she winced. 'Christ. Where are my sunglasses? Yes, now you come to mention it. Yes it was. And it's all coming back to me now. He was pretty nice. Not a bad guy at all. And I did something good for you, sweetie. God help me.'
    'What's that?'
    'He's a golfer. I lined it up for you to play a round with him. I'm going to drive the little car. Won't that be fun?'
    'Yeah,' Dunlop said. 'When's