“No money in retail,” Jago called from the other room.

“Too right, that,” Angarrack said. “Santo had liked the look of one at Clean Barrel, but it was too advanced for him, although he wouldn’t have known that at the time. It was a short board. A three-fin thruster. He asked about it, but Will knew he’d not learn well with that-if he learned at all-so he sent him to me. I made him a board he could learn on, something wider, longer, with a single fin. And Madlyn-that’s my daughter-gave him lessons.”

“That’s how they became involved, then.”

“Essentially.”

The kettle clicked off. Angarrack poured the water into the mugs, stirred the liquid, and said, “Here it is, mate,” which brought Jago Reeth to join them. He drank noisily.

“How did you feel about that?” Bea asked Angarrack. “About their involvement.” She noted that Jago was watching Lew intently. Interesting, she thought, and she made a mental tick against both of their names.

“Truth? I didn’t like it. She lost her focus. Before, she had a goal. The nationals. International competitions. After she met Santo, all of that was gone. She could still see beyond the nose on her face, but she couldn’t see an inch beyond Santo Kerne.”

“First love,” Jago commented. “It’s brutal.”

“They were both too young,” Angarrack said. “Not even seventeen when they met, and I don’t know how old when they began…” He made a gesture with his hand to indicate they were to complete the sentence.

“Became lovers,” Bea said.

“It’s not love at that age,” Angarrack told her. “Not for boys. But for her? Stars in the eyes and cotton wool in the head. Santo this and Santo that. I wish I could have done something to prevent it.”

“Way of the world, Lew.” Jago leaned against the doorway to the glassing room, mug in his hand.

“I didn’t forbid her seeing him,” Angarrack went on. “What would have been the point? But I told her to have a care.”

“As to what?”

“The obvious. Bad enough she wasn’t competing any longer. Even worse if she came up pregnant. Or worse than that.”

“Worse?”

“Diseased.”

“Ah. Sounds as if you thought the boy was promiscuous.”

“I didn’t know what the hell he was. And I didn’t want to find out by means of Madlyn being in some sort of trouble. Any sort of trouble. So I warned her and then I let it be.” Angarrack had not yet taken up his mug, but he did so now and he took a gulp. “That was probably my mistake,” he said.

“Why? Did she-”

“She would’ve got over him faster when things ended. As it is, she hasn’t.”

“I daresay she will now,” Bea said.

The two men exchanged looks. Quick, nearly furtive. Bea noted this and made two more mental ticks against them. She said, “We found a T-shirt design for LiquidEarth on Santo’s computer.” Constable McNulty brought the drawing forth and passed it over to the surfboard shaper. “Was that at your request?” Bea asked.

Angarrack shook his head. “When Madlyn finished with Santo, I finished with Santo as well. He might have been doing a design to pay for the new board-”

“Another board?”

“He’d got way beyond the first. He needed another, beyond the learning board, if he was going to improve. But once I sacked him, he had no way to pay me back for the board. This might have been it.” He handed the design back to McNulty.

Bea said to the constable, “Show him the other,” and McNulty brought forth the design for Commit an Act of Subversion and handed it over. Lew looked at it and shook his head. He passed it on to Jago who knuckled his spectacles into place, read the logo, and said, “Will Mendick. This was for him.”

“The bloke from Clean Barrel Surf Shop,” Bea said.

“Used to be. He works at Blue Star Grocery now.”

“What’s the significance of the design?”

“He’s freegan. Least that’s what Santo said he calls himself.”

“Freegan? I’ve not heard that term.”

“Only eats what’s free. Clobber he grows’s well as muck from wheelie bins behind the market and in back of restaurants.”

“How appealing. Is this a movement or something like?”

Jago shrugged. “Don’t know, do I. But he and Santo were mates, more or less, so it might’ve been a favour. The T-shirt, that is.”

Bea was gratified to hear the sound of Constable McNulty jotting all of this down instead of studying the nearby surfing posters. She was less gratified when he suddenly said to Jago, “Ever see the big waves?” He’d coloured as he spoke, as if he knew he was out of order but could no longer contain himself.

“Oh, aye. Ke Iki. Waimea. Jaws. Teahupoo.”

“Big as they say?”

“Depends on the weather,” Jago said. “Big as office blocks sometimes. Bigger.”

“Where? When?” And then apologetically to Bea, “I mean to go, you see. The wife and I and the kids…It’s a dream…And when we go, I want to be sure of the place and the waves…you know.”

“Surf then, do you?” Jago asked.

“Bit. Not like you lot. But I-”

“That’ll do, Constable,” Bea told McNulty.

He looked anguished, an opportunity ripped from his hands. “I just wanted to know-”

“Where might we find your daughter?” she asked Lew Angarrack, waving McNulty impatiently to silence.

Lew finished his coffee and placed his mug on the card table. He said, “Why do you want Madlyn?”

“I should think that’s rather obvious.”

“As it happens, it’s not.”

“Former and potentially discarded lover of Santo Kerne, Mr. Angarrack? She’s got to be interviewed like everyone else.”

It was clear that Angarrack didn’t like the direction in which Bea intended to head, but he told her where she could find his daughter at her place of employment. Bea gave him her card, circling her mobile number. If he thought of anything else…

He nodded and returned to his work, shutting the door to the shaping room behind him. A moment later, the sound of an electric tool shrieked in the building again.

Jago Reeth remained with Bea and the constable. He said, casting a look over his shoulder, “One more thing…I got a conscious on this, so if you have a moment for ’nother word…” And when Bea nodded, he said, “I’d be chuffed if Lew didn’t know this, got me? The way things turned out, he’ll be dead cheesed off if he knows.”

“What?”

Jago shifted his weight. “Was me giving them the place. I know I prob’ly shouldn’t’ve. I saw that afterwards, but by then the bloody milk was spilt. Couldn’t exactly pour it back into the bottle when it was spread all over the floor, could I?”

“While I admire your adherence to your metaphor,” Bea told him, “perhaps you could make it more clear?”

“Santo and Madlyn. I go to the Salthouse Inn regular, in the afternoons. Have a mate I meet over there most days. Santo and Madlyn, they used my place then.”

“For sex?”

He didn’t look happy about making the admission. “Could have left them to sort things out on their own, but it seemed…I wanted them to be safe, see. Not in the backseat of a car somewhere. Not in…I don’t know.”

“Yet as his father owns a hotel…,” Bea pointed out.

Jago wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist. “All right. Yeah. There’s the rooms at the old Promontory King George, for what they’re worth. But that didn’t mean…the two of them there…I just…Oh hell. I couldn’t be sure he’d use what he needed to use to keep her safe, so I left them for him. Right by the bed.”

“Condoms.”

He looked moderately embarrassed, an old bloke unused to having such a frank conversation with someone he might otherwise have deemed a lady. One of the fairer sex, Bea thought. She could see this thought playing across his face. “He used ’em, but not every time, see.”

“And you know he used them because…?” Bea prompted.

He looked horrified. “Good God, woman.”

“I’m not sure God had much to do with this, Mr. Reeth. If you’d answer the question. Did you count them up before and after? Search them out in the rubbish? What?”