Lauren started singing ‘Back on the Chain Gang.’

L-Plate and Ilias both asked if I could let them have my dealer’s number.

Ten minutes later at the meds hatch, once Femi had handed my paper cup of pills across, I leaned close to her and asked, ‘Have any drugs gone missing lately?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘From in there.’ I nodded behind her. ‘Any stuff unaccounted for?’

‘Not as far as I know.’ She was holding out the cup of water and smiling at the voluntary patient who was waiting in line behind me, but I didn’t move.

‘So, you would know?’ I waited. ‘All the staff would be told about it, right?’

‘Why are you so interested in this?’ Femi was starting to look concerned or uncomfortable, I couldn’t be sure which.

‘It’s part of my investigation into Kevin’s death,’ I said.

She shook her head, still brandishing the water, then raised a hand, inviting the Informal behind me to step forward.

I turned and smiled at him. ‘Almost done.’

‘The police have already asked us these questions,’ Femi said.

‘So, what did you tell them?’

‘I’m afraid we are not allowed to discuss such things with patients.’

‘Maybe not normally.’ I leaned closer. ‘But somebody killed Kevin and drugs had something to do with it—’

‘You need to step away now, Alice—’

‘—and I’m going to find out how he got them.’

Behind me, the Informal muttered something as he stepped back to let Donna walk past. I turned and winked at him as she marched away down the corridor. I said, ‘She’s working off breakfast.’

‘Take your pills and fuck off,’ he said.

‘There are other patients waiting.’ Femi had raised her voice a little. ‘Are you going to move?’

I turned back to her. ‘That depends.’

‘Do you want me to bring Marcus over here?’

For a moment I thought about asking her to do exactly that. I’d wondered all along if Marcus should be the one to question about the drugs in Kevin’s room, before deciding I’d be more likely to get a straight answer out of Femi. Now I reckoned there was no point in getting the ward manager involved until I needed to.

I smiled and took the cup of water.

I swallowed my olanzapine then my sodium valproate, watched her tick my chart and said, ‘Thanks for your help.’

That afternoon, I was in the music room with Big Gay Bob, chatting about this, that and – as always – the other, when it all kicked off in the 136 Suite.

‘I shagged a policewoman once,’ Bob said.

‘Yeah?’

‘In the back of a police car.’

‘Nice. Did she put the blue light on?’

‘I swear, I always thought women in uniform batted for the other team. No offence, but you know what I’m saying. Bang up for it she was though, the dirty mare.’

‘Did she take down your particulars?’