‘I doubt it. Given the circumstances, we do what we think is right at the time. That’s all we can do. The fact that we agonize and moralize over it afterwards at least means we have a conscience, and that separates us from the ones who don’t give a toss.’ He shrugged and gave her a bitter smile. ‘Believe me, there are things that I would have done differently in hindsight, but you can’t live your life constantly wondering about repercussions that may occur.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, but why do I still feel so guilty?’ Nikki looked out through the glass. ‘At last! Leah’s giving us the thumbs up. We can go see the boy.’

‘He’s sleeping naturally now, and his breathing is fine,’ said the Sister, her fingers gently pressing on the boy’s pulse. ‘You can stay with him until he wakes up again.’

‘Has he spoken, Leah?’

‘Just to tell us that his name is Mickey. He knows that he has been attacked, that’s all so far. His throat is naturally sore from the tube.’

‘He gave you no surname?’

‘No, he stuck at Mickey. And strangely, he didn’t ask for his parents.’

Nikki looked down at the sleeping boy, and her heart went out to him.

Half his face was a mottled purplish-red, with a long row of stitches and steri-strips holding together the torn flesh of his cheek. His corn-blonde hair was still streaked with drying blood, and a wide band of dressing covered the bridge of his nose. Whatever reflection the lad had seen in the mirror that morning had gone for ever.

Leah O’Keefe saw her looking at the child’s face. ‘We’ve let the maxillofacial surgeon take a look at him, and luckily his jaw is okay. Plastics will sort that scar out later, although he’ll always have a mark there.’

‘Sounds as though a scar should be the least of his worries,’ remarked Joseph grimly. ‘He’s lucky to be alive.’

‘Maybe that depends what his life is like in the first place.’ Nikki mused. ‘Whoever did this is still out there, maybe waiting to finish the job.’

‘That’s if Mickey here was actually the target, and not just a wrong place, wrong time kid.’

‘Sorry, Sergeant, but something tells me my theory is the correct one. Now, pull up a chair and we’ll wait and see, shall we?’

Mickey slept for half an hour, and when he came round and saw his two visitors, he remained abnormally quiet. His frightened eyes darted from one to the other, but he said nothing.

‘You’re not in trouble, Mickey. Honestly. You are the victim here, so you can talk freely to us, I promise,’ said Joseph.

‘Absolutely,’ added Nikki. ‘We just want to get the people who did this to you. They have to be punished for hurting you.’