After a long moment, Jenny nodded. Her chin had started to tremble.

“Had he?”

She shook her head. Her eyes and lips were squeezed tight. I said, “Can you tell me why you told Fiona he had?”

Tears leaked onto Jenny’s cheeks. She managed, “… Should have—” before a sob jackknifed her like a punch. “So tired … please …”

She pushed Richie’s hand away and covered her face with her arm. He said, “We’ll let you get some rest. We’re going to send someone from Victim Support to talk to you, OK?”

Jenny shook her head, gasping for breath. Blood had dried in the creases of her knuckles. “No. Please … no … just … by myself.”

“I promise, they’re good. I know nothing’s going to make this better, but they can help you get through it. They’ve helped out a load of people who’ve had this happen. Would you give them a shot?”

“I don’t …” She managed to catch her breath, in a deep, shaky heave. After a moment she asked, dazed, “What?” The painkillers were closing over her head again.

“Never mind,” Richie said gently. “Is there anything we can get you?”

“I don’t …”

Her eyes were closing. She was slipping into sleep, which was the best place for her. I said, “We’ll be back when you’re feeling stronger. For now, we’re going to leave our cards here with you. If you remember anything, anything at all, please call either one of us.”

Jenny made a sound between a moan and a sob. She was asleep, tears still sliding down her face. We put our cards on her bedside table and left.

Out in the corridor, everything was the same: the uniform was still standing to attention, and Jenny’s mother was still asleep in her chair. Her head had dropped to one side and her fingers had loosened on her purse, twitching against the worn handle. I sent the uniform into the room as quietly as I could and got us around the corner, walking fast, before I stopped to put away my notebook.

Richie said, “That was interesting, yeah?” He sounded subdued, but not shaken up: the live ones didn’t get to him. Once that empathy had somewhere to go, he was fine. If I had been in the market for a long-term partner, we would have been perfect for each other. “A lot of lies, for just a few minutes.”

“So you noticed that. They might or might not be relevant—like I told you, everyone lies—but we’ll need to find out. We’ll come back to Jenny.” It took me three tries to get my notebook into my coat pocket. I turned my shoulder to Richie to hide it.

He hovered, squinting up at me. “You all right?”

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“You look a bit …” He wavered one hand. “That was rough enough, in there. I thought maybe …”

I said, “Why don’t you go ahead and assume that anything you can take, I can take. That wasn’t rough. That was just another day on the job—as you’ll know, once you get a little experience under your belt. And even if it had been rough as all hell, I’d be fine. That chat we had earlier, Richie, about control: did that not go in?”