'It...it was you Zeke?' How could my own brother be guilty of such a horrible crime?

He raised his hands, fingers splayed wide, 'Not me Silv, ya gotta believe me. That's below even me!'

I removed the softphone from my pocket and unfolded it, turning the video screen so he could see, and I played back the news reel for him.

'...annabee, the site of bloodied bodies and mangled metal as, earlier today a car carrying Priscilla Portman, daughter of sex toy tycoon Ben Dover Portman exploded upon arrival. Those campers intelligent enough to understand what had happened said simply, 'car go boom'. As of yet, no statements have been issued and no one has claimed responsibil...'

I turned it off, folding the phone with a single practiced flick before stowing it again in my pocket.

'I know what happened,' he said testily. 'Been all they're playin'. But I tell ya, I didn't do it, I'm being framed.'

Something in his eyes told me he was serious. And that meant this was serious trouble. But, before I could reply, he dug the rabbit hole even deeper.

'And the girl's not dead.'