‘Who isn’t interested? The guys running the case are in the middle of a real shitstorm, I tell you. They’ve got nothing. And bodies are showing up everywhere. Membership has gone global and nobody knows where to look.’

‘But you do?’

‘Not really. I’ll probably just show up at the next bridge, scratching my head like the rest of them.’ He takes a sip of water. He has forgotten about the shadows and the flames.

‘Another bridge?’

‘Come on, Doctor, there’s going to be another bridge. And another one after that. Until the person behind this is caught.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘This is how it works. It builds up. More people. More risk. Until somebody fucks up and blows the case wide open. Maybe they taunt the police or they go along to watch somebody die. Eventually, these psychos want to get caught. It’s the only way they can stop.’

Artaud makes a note on his pad.

‘Wait. What are you writing down there? I thought we were just talking.’ Pace is agitated.

‘Detective, you will get a chance to read my report.’

Pace leans forwards in his chair. ‘How the fuck is anything I just said helping with your report?’ He wants to stand up, grab the yellow pad and find the last note his doctor made.

‘Please sit back, Detective Pace.’ The doctor’s voice is so calming. ‘I merely noted that you are considering this case and that your critical thinking is in order. You can remain removed from the case. Much as I believe you remained removed from your previous case.’

He lies.

He wrote The only way they can stop. Then he circled stop three times.

Pace sits back.

Artaud starts to cough. It doesn’t stop.

‘Is everything okay?’ Pace sits forwards. ‘Maybe I should get you some water.’

The detective stands up and moves over to the cabinet and fills a glass. He places it down on Artaud’s desk and catches a glimpse of his yellow legal pad. The doctor takes a sip, thanks Pace, and the detective returns to his seat.

‘I really should quit the cigars,’ Artaud half jokes. ‘I’m too old for that, though.’

Pace is not resting backwards in his chair. He’s seen enough. It’s over. He has the all-clear. He beat the system. He just wants out.

‘Look, I know we have ten minutes left, but it really is a formality, as you say, we could just end it here.’

Artaud stares at Pace and says nothing. Neither of them move. It seems the doctor is scrutinising his patient, looking into him. Eventually, he nods.