Tyler picked up his pint and slopped a little over his jeans before he got it to his mouth and swallowed some. “I don’t have to say anything.”

“No, you don’t,” said Gerry. “But it would be best if you did.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll take you into the station and have a search party down to turn over your flat.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Gerry stared him out. “Try me.”

“OK,” said Tyler. “Suppose I did talk to you. Are you offering me immunity?”

“I’m not offering you anything. I will say, though, that I’m not interested in your drug use.”

“That’s all in the past.”

“Whatever. Not interested.”

“OK. But how do I know you’re not recording this? Show me your mobile.”

“Screw you,” said Gerry, getting up and taking Tyler by the arm. “If you think I’m going to show you my mobile or let you search me, you’ve got another think coming. Come on, we’re off to the station. And don’t forget your sentence is only suspended, not permanently canceled.”

Tyler struggled, but Gerry’s grip was firm. He bumped into the table and spilled more beer. “Hey, wait, wait a minute!” he said. “There’s no need for violence. It’s cool. OK. What do you want to know?”

“That’s better,” said Gerry.

They sat down. Tyler rubbed his arm. “It’s poison, that stuff,” he said. “Drugs.”

“I already know that,” said Gerry. “I just want to know how it worked.”

“How what worked?”

Had this boy actually been admitted to Eastvale College? Gerry wondered. If he had been, there were serious problems with the admission requirements. Talk about unconditional acceptance. You didn’t even need a brain to get into this place, it seemed.

“The setup. The drug operation on Hollyfield Lane.”

“I don’t do it anymore.”

Gerry sighed. “Tyler. You’re beginning to sound like a stuck record. I’m not after you for drugs, believe me. If I were, you’d be in a cell already. All I want is information. Pure and simple. Of course, if you don’t—”

Tyler put his hand up, palm out. “No, no. It’s all right. I’ll talk to you. It’s just that you can’t be too careful, that’s all. Go on, ask away.”

“Thank you,” Gerry muttered under her breath, and out loud, “How did it operate?”

“You just phoned this mobile number, like, and put in your order.”

Gerry showed him the number she had copied from the scrap of paper Annie had found in Howard Stokes’s wallet. “This number?”

Tyler frowned in concentration. “I’m not sure. But it looks about right.”

Gerry put the number away. “How did you first find out what number to phone?”

“A mate told me.”

“How did he know?”

Tyler shrugged. “Dunno. Internet, I think. Facebook, something like that.”