I straightened, put the key in the lock and then felt the back of my neck. My fingers came away red with blood.

The pain came later.

SIX

I

‘You think someone took a shot at you?’ said Superintendent Hanna.

I winced as the doctor did something to the back of my neck. ‘Either that or you’ve got bloody big mosquitoes here. Ask the expert if you don’t believe me.’

The hotel doctor was competent enough at administering first aid, given the constraints of my suite. I had rung Hanna immediately and, as he had promised, he came running. He looked sleepier than ever.

‘Well, doctor?’ he asked.

‘It looks like a bullet graze,’ said the doctor. ‘There’s nothing to say it isn’t. It certainly isn’t a mosquito bite.’

‘Very funny,’ said Hanna. ‘Did you hear the shot?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘But there was a lot of traffic noise.’

‘Which direction did the bullet come from?’

‘How the hell would I know?’ I said. ‘I didn’t even feel it at first.’

‘I think I can tell you that,’ said the doctor. ‘From the way the tissue is torn, I’d say it came from left to right.’ He pressed firmly. ‘That dressing should hold, Mr Kemp. You can lift your head now.’

‘That’s something,’ said Hanna. ‘Do you remember where the car was parked?’

I straightened and flexed my neck. ‘Of course.’ Suddenly I shuddered.

Hanna leaned forward and stared at me. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘The thought just came into my mind of what would have happened if I hadn’t dropped the key.’ I lowered my head a little and then raised it. Touching the side of my neck, I said, ‘The bullet would have entered just about here. It would have cut through the carotid and I’d have bled to death in about two minutes.’

I began to laugh as the hysteria kicked in, and the doctor shook out a couple of tablets from a bottle. ‘Take these.’

‘What are they?’

‘Just a sedative,’ he said soothingly. ‘You’re a bit uptight right now.’ He went into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water and I took the tablets. ‘I’d stay in your room tonight,’ he said. ‘Rest as much as you can. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.’

As the doctor packed his bag, Hanna said, ‘Don’t talk about this to anyone, doctor. It’s police business.’

‘I never talk about my patients.’ The doctor went away.

‘So someone took a shot at you,’ said Hanna. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, and then a thought struck me. ‘How do you suppose alcohol would combine with a sedative?’

‘No idea.’

I crossed the room and picked up the telephone. ‘Get me the hotel doctor.’

‘People don’t shoot at people for no reason,’ said Hanna.