‘Stick it on then,’ says Pharaoh, addressing her comments to Helen Tremberg, who sits at her bedside and helps herself to the ludicrous pile of snacks piled up beside the bed.

Tremberg, sucking her fingers, fiddles with her mobile phone. Glances up at McAvoy, and gives an encouraging smile. He can’t return it. Can’t remember which muscle is which.

‘… going live to a press conference with Humberside Police, where Chief Constable Alvin Craven is making a statement …’

‘Should be good,’ mutters Daniells, craning his neck and staring at the small screen.

McAvoy watches as the chief constable swallows, his Adam’s apple pressing against his collar and throat. He’s a big man. Shaved head, waxy skin, hairy fingers and forearms. He sips from a glass of water as he reads.

‘… understand that the officer hurt in the incident at the property in Fitling is now out of danger. They will be put forward for a gallantry award in due course …’

‘Get you,’ says Daniells, impressed.

‘Shut up, Andy,’ mutters Pharaoh.

‘The body found at Haile Sands Fort has now been confirmed as an Irish national wanted by An Garda Síochána in connection with several murders-for-hire. They have been working in connection with the National Crime Agency on a multi-agency investigation into organized crime. As a result of those investigations, Humberside Police is able to close the files on several unsolved murders, including the recent and tragic death of Dymphna Lowell at a property in Sunk Island, Holderness. At this time we are unable to provide further details but I would like to personally commend the officers of the Humberside Police Serious and Organized Unit for exceptional police work, which would have secured the convictions of an extremely dangerous individual. The suicide of the individual concerned is a source of great frustration for anybody with a true belief in the process of justice …’

Pharaoh shakes her head. Bites down on a grape. Shoots a look at McAvoy as Tremberg puts the phone away. ‘Well played,’ she mutters, to the world in general. She yawns, extravagantly. ‘I think that may be enough for now.’

Tremberg, quickest on the uptake, pulls herself out of the chair. ‘Andy,’ she says briskly, ‘could you come show me how the vending machine works?’

‘Eh?’ he asks. ‘You put your cons in and … oh, right.’

They push one another out of the room, arguing like children. McAvoy stays still, rooted to the spot.

‘Come here,’ says Pharaoh, and pats the bed.

He half stumbles as he moves towards her. Lowers himself down. Puts his hands on the bedsheet and feels her grab for it: plump and warm, closing around his fingers as if she were drowning.

‘She won’t tell me,’ he whispers. ‘I know there’s more to it. I know she was there.’

‘She wasn’t,’ says Pharaoh, holding his gaze. ‘I hit him. Hit him with a hammer when he tried to kill me.’

‘Trish, that’s not true! And she’s OK, that’s the thing I can’t deal with. She’s laughing and joking at home. The kids too. They hurt, and Lilah’s wetting the bed again, but they’re OK. I know what she did, Trish.’