‘No,’ said Josh with a sigh, ‘and I wish I’d heeded it when I first heard it.’

He pointed a pencil at Toccata.

‘You do know they’re the same person?’

‘I found out the hard way.’

‘Has she threatened to pull out your tongue if you step out of line?’

‘Yes, and not in the painless way.’

‘As far as we know it’s a bluff,’ said Josh, ‘but it’s hard to say. Does that make you feel any better?’

‘Not much.’

He made the call, then handed us our visitor badges and walked around to instruct one of the redeployed on the golf carts. Not Mrs Tiffen, though, the one with the badge denoting him as ‘Chas’. Josh helped us on board, showed the redeployed the map, and we were off, just not quite as dangerously as before.

‘The other redeployed golf-cart driver was Mrs Tiffen,’ I said to Toccata, ‘the woman I brought over here four weeks ago.’

‘That’s quick work,’ she replied. ‘Do you know how much money they make from the redeployed?’

‘No.’

‘Lots,’ she said, not sounding as if she knew either, ‘but they’ll make a shitload more if Vacants can be made skilled, although the unions won’t be happy. Peppermint?’ She held out a small white bag. ‘Take two. Shit, take the whole bag.’

I thought of what Jonesy had told me, about how Toccata fed nightwalkers peppermint to make them more palatable.

‘No, thanks.’

‘Go on,’ she said, ‘you look like you need feeding up.’

‘Maybe later,’ I said, but took the bag anyway.

We were driven down several corridors, took a left turn and stopped outside two large double doors where Mr Hooke was waiting for us.

‘I-will-wait-for-you-here,’ said the golf-cart driver, and I looked at him, intending to say thank you, and found myself staring. His badge still described him as Chas, but he was, in fact, Charles, whose likeness decorated my dream – albeit retrospectively, agreed – and was also on the missing persons flier I had in my back pocket. He had a beard and cropped hair, but it was the same person. If he’d vanished in Sector Twelve, he hadn’t gone very far, nor for that long.

‘Well, well,’ said Toccata as Mr Hooke approached us, ‘the return of the living dead. Eaten any babies today?’

‘Unfunny as usual,’ said Hooke in an even tone, ignoring me entirely. ‘Would you like to come in?’

He opened the door to their offices and we entered a wood-panelled room about the size of a gymnasium. The staff had their heads down and were either working or speaking on the telephone in low voices. One, near the back, was typing on a telex machine.

‘I’d like to see Aurora,’ said Toccata as we walked towards the side offices.

‘That’s not possible,’ said Hooke.

‘Every single time she does this,’ said Toccata in an exasperated tone. ‘She can’t hide from me for ever.’