‘Al . . . we went through all this before. I don’t have any information, because it’s not my team.’

‘You said you knew.’

‘About what happened, yeah. It’s not like there’s that many murders, is there?’

‘I know how many murders there are,’ I say.

‘That’s all, though. Look, if any stuff . . . filters through or if I happen to hear something, I’ll let you know, but right now you’re asking the wrong person.’

‘Has someone told you not to say anything?’

‘What?’

‘Have you been told not to talk to me about the case?’

His sigh rattles a bit. ‘I haven’t got time for this, Al.’

The rain’s getting heavier. Tin tacks falling on a drum. Above the noise I can hear Lauren singing in the distance, which is definitely the best place for her to be.

‘Remember when you were here last time?’ I ask. ‘When we talked about the drugs gang and how maybe they’d sent someone in pretending to be a patient to kill Kevin?’

‘Yeah, and I thought it was stupid,’ he says.

‘Yeah, and so did I eventually . . . and then I knew it was because I found out who really killed Kevin, but maybe this time it isn’t. A new patient arrived just before Debbie was murdered.’

I let that sink in, then tell him all about Tiny Tears. How she was weird when she came in, and yeah, I know everyone’s weird when they come in, but there was definitely something off about this one. I tell him about her coming to my room last night.

‘What’s wrong with wanting a friend?’ he asks. ‘Wouldn’t you have wanted that when you got there?’

‘It was like she had an agenda.’

‘Doesn’t make her a killer, Al.’

‘Like . . . commit the murder, then make sure you get matey with the one person on the ward who can solve it, because she’s an ex-cop. Same as she solved the last one. Got to be worth thinking about, at least?’ I keep at him for a while and I know he’s probably not listening, but eventually he promises me that yes, he will think about it.

Then he says, ‘Shall I come in to visit next week?’

Before, Tim’s always said I’ll be in tomorrow or See you on Wednesday or something, but now he’s made it a question, and I suspect that’s because he wants me to say no.

I say, ‘Only if you’ve got time.’

My dad rocks up in the afternoon. I say rocks, but my dad’s never actually rocked anywhere in his life. He’s more of a lolloper, a marcher on a good day, but anyway . . . he arrives.

Femi comes to find me and takes me to meet him.

I stretch out a hand for his plastic bag of goodies before I’ve even said hello.