Tired and hungover, my attempts to sleep in were thwarted by the children playing in the carport under my bedroom window. I begged them to be quieter but it is difficult to muffle Salvation Army musical instruments, junior size or not. Muttering about what I was planning to do with their red plastic tambourine, I got up. My cheery ‘good morning’ was roundly ignored by a family member who was slumped over a pint of lager.

After discovering rolled up hundred dollar bills in my pillowcase, freshly laundered, I knew I had a fight on my hands to keep the money and prove it was legal. My task was complicated by the fact that friends had accidentally flooded the market with lethal drugs. Out on bail, I set out to prove our innocence.