She screamed and I flung myself out of her way. But because the corridor was narrow her shoulder slammed into mine, and the impact spun me around and dumped me on the floor. It was like being hit by a fast-moving cyclist. I rolled to avoid any follow-up and staggered to my feet, only to find that the Pale Lady was long gone. Each interview room has an alarm button by the door and I slapped my palm on one as I stepped over Purdy and slammed into the room where we’d stashed Alexander Smith.

He was slumped back in his chair, head thrown back, mouth open, and what looked like a bullet hole in his chest with the same charring around the cloth of his shirt that I’d seen on No-Neck earlier.

A uniformed PC cautiously stuck her head around the door and pointed a taser at me. “Who are you?” she asked.

“Peter Grant,” I said. “Suspect is an IC1 female, gray tracksuit bottoms, pink hoodie.” If I left it there some idiot was going to get himself gutted trying to tackle her. “Psychiatric patient, very dangerous, possibly armed. Probably still in the building.”

The PC looked at me in astonishment. “Yeah, right,” she said.

“Have you done the first-aid course?” I asked.

“Last month,” she said.

“Okay, give me the taser and you see to Purdy,” I said.

She handed me the taser; it was heavy, plastic, and looked like something from Doctor Who. Even in her state of shock she could tell that Smith was dead so she went off to get the first-aid kit for Purdy.

I stepped back over Purdy and took a moment to check he was still alive. “Help’s on its way,” I told him. “What the hell were you doing here?”

His face was white and sweaty with pain but he actually laughed—sort of. “It’s got a better canteen,” he said.

I told him to take it easy and headed for the stairs.

The thing about policing is that it’s something you do out on the streets rather than inside the police station. During a normal working day, the civilian staff will outnumber your actual constables by a ratio of three to one. Which means that when there’s a crisis at the local nick everybody has to rush back to deal with it. Which takes time. Feral the Pale Lady might have been, but I didn’t think she was stupid. Which meant she was going to go out by the fastest possible route, before all the police officers came rushing back in.