‘Well, it’s a bit of an open secret. And I don’t think anybody’s ever had the gumption to go through it or anything. You know how he is. Of course, now we know why he put on that whole scary-man act. To keep people away from his stash.’

‘So they found the drugs in this hole of his?’

‘Yes. Not as much as you might expect, definitely much less than we estimate is coming in, but far, far more than any dealer would have. When addicts die and go to heaven, they probably dream of ending up in that hole. Top-ups of different durations and speeds, data streams, delivery systems—you name it, they pulled it out of there. No doubt about it. It’s him.’

Albert shook his head. ‘No, this still doesn’t hold. Someone else might have put it there after he was arrested. You know, to frame him. The same person who might have picked up his knife and used it for the murder.’

‘Yes, I thought about that, which was why I said that that knife business looked iffy to me. But I’ve thought about it a bit since, and you know, I’m not so sure any more. Who could have picked it up from the tunnels? You? June? Me or one of the boys? Or do you think the Renegades picked it up and handed it over to someone else in case they needed to frame Marcus one day?’

‘Well, what about the men who came to help us? One of them could have picked it up.’

Colby nodded. ‘See, that’s where I drew the line. Because hereon it just becomes conspiracy theories. You think one of the soldiers is the murderer?’

‘Well, do you think it’s impossible?’

‘No, but I think it’s going a little too far to assume that in order to try and establish the innocence of a man we all know is a cold-blooded killer.’

‘Well, that doesn’t mean he killed Castor,’ said Albert, suddenly struck by the fact that here he was, arguing for a man who, since he had met him, had killed at least half a dozen people, if not twice as many. In the last twenty-four hours. ‘And that doesn’t make him the dope king! Why would he do it? He doesn’t seem like someone to whom money would matter too much. Come to think of it,’ he continued, suddenly curious, ‘do you even have money here? You know credits, or tokens, or something? How do the addicts buy the info? How does anyone buy anything?’

Colby had been wearing a confused frown, but now his face relaxed into an expression of understanding. ‘Oh, like that. Yes. We have Happiness.’

Albert blinked. ‘Happiness?’