‘Seriously? Then why did he hire me for sex dreams?’ Roman slams his coffee cup on the table and it sloshes over his hand, burning him. Edgar goes flying. Damn.

Roman’s disproportionately unhappy about the sex dreams thing. Maybe he likes me.

‘Come on, into the kitchen. Run some cold water on it.’

‘It’s fine, I’m all right.’ He paces around the living room, red-faced, flapping the hand and tripping over Edgar. I whip into the kitchen and run the cold tap into a sink full of two-day-old dishes. He comes in sulkily and puts his hand under.

‘You might have told me this sooner.’

‘I had no idea it could be relevant. And I was trying to forget the whole episode. Elstree is disgusting. But it’s a big leap to accuse him of dreamhacking.’

He won’t look at me. ‘I know. It’s not exactly likely that a high-powered solicitor would willingly inject himself with an infection that could cause narcolepsy.’

‘And hair loss! He’s already got a widow’s peak.’

‘But I want the recordings for review. If you won’t hand them over, you’re only hurting yourself. Not to mention other potential victims.’

‘Have you told the Met about your suspicions?’

He swings his head from side to side slowly. ‘I’d be laughed at. We need evidence that the Met can respect. Oneiric crime is almost impossible to prove.’

‘I’ve got to level with you, Roman. O warned me that you and Donato could be in BigSky’s pocket. I’m not giving you anything that personal knowing you could turn around and sell it to BigSky.’

He shakes his head and gives a mocking laugh. ‘They already have it. If you’ve used Sweet Dreams and left your stuff on one of their servers, BigSky can get it easily. Even Donato could probably get it if he tried. Is that how you want this to work? Distrusting each other all the time?’

My turn to mock. ‘Who kept me prisoner in a kebab shop and interviewed me like a criminal?’

‘Yeah, and what exactly was that performance? You pretended not to know the word “indemnify” and fell asleep at least five times!’

‘It couldn’t have been more than four. I told you, I’m narcoleptic. I pass out when under stress.’

‘And you’re not under stress now?’

We face each other on either end of the Belfast sink. He been gesticulating wildly as he’s talking. When Antonio does it, it’s Latin and sexy. When Roman does it, it’s dangerous. He has long arms and his hands are flying around randomly. I take a step back and fold my arms. He’s right, I haven’t fallen asleep. Why?

He’s watching my face. He says, ‘You’re good at acting like a muppet, but I don’t think you are one.’