‘Maybe yes, but the payment for Melodie Tan’s rooms traces to his bank account. So . . . be careful, OK, Charlie?’

‘Someone might be trying to set him up,’ I bleat.

‘They might. We’ll know more when we bring him in.’

‘But he left the country.’

‘He left the country? When?’

Oh shit. Fuck me.

‘I . . . I think I’m going to fall asleep.’

Roman leans forward, and even in Spacetime I can feel his calming vibe coming through. Those solid hands, clasping his own knees as he bends towards me, or the image of me, in his own Spacetime.

‘You’re OK, Charlie. Have a drink of water or something. We can’t be sure Antonio is responsible for this, even if he did pay for the rooms and lie about it. It’s just that, when it comes to murder and relationships, Occam’s razor usually applies.’

He looks truly grim. And I feel truly . . . sleepy.

‘I have to go.’

I switch off the link, but before he vanishes he says, ‘Charlie, get off your headware!’

I said the same thing to Melodie, and she didn’t listen to me.

Maybe I should listen.

I don’t know what to believe about Antonio. On the one hand, it’s a point in his favour that he came clean with me about the second hotel room. On the other hand, if he was going to tell me about the one hotel room and the false passport, he may as well have told me everything. Why didn’t he?

I’m not cut out for this kind of intrigue.

I call Shandy and babble at her. About Meera and Bernard and Little Bird. About Roman telling me to remove my headware. She listens for a while. Then she says, ‘I’m taking a sick day tomorrow. We’re going to go deal with this Bernard Zborowski character once and for all. I’ve had enough of seeing you messed about and scared.’

‘You can’t bunk off work for me—’

‘Why not? I worked overtime four nights last week. I’ll say I have a doctor’s appointment for exhaustion. May as well, if I’m honest.’

‘But you’re never tired.’ I’m yawning as I speak.

‘Take off your earring for the night,’ Shandy says. ‘Just get one good sleep with no corpses and no threats and no nothing. OK?’

‘But O told me to leave Bernard alone. She said there’s nothing to be gained.’

‘She obviously hasn’t been introduced to my cricket bat.’

‘I’m not good at confrontations,’ I say, wincing.

‘No kidding. But I am. Now go to sleep.’

I pull off the earring and lie in my room listening to the cars going by outside. The din from the pub down the road reaches me faintly up here. I feel small and remote and horribly naked without my headware, but sleep comes just as quickly as ever.

Doctor Lady Reverend