‘Me? I’m not the one living in a cupboard under the stairs. I’ve tried to give you every opportunity to better yourself, but you leave me very little choice. Everything that’s happening here comes down to your bad decisions, Chaz.’

His voice is so deep, so well modulated, so convincing. I can feel how I’m conditioned to submit to that voice no matter what nonsense it’s spouting. He could do movie voice-overs and make a fortune and have a villa in Provence. I do have to wonder why he is he wasting his time litigating patents and killing people in their sleep.

‘The worst decision you made was to move in with Olivia. Now, I could tell you things about her that would curdle your blood. I manage certain delicate affairs on her behalf – hence the pigeons. So by now you must know she used her own sister as an experimental subject.’

‘She wanted to help her sister! But you, what you’re doing is worse. Convincing Daphne that she’s a secret agent and getting her to do your dirty work? That is low.’

‘Don’t kill the messenger, dear. I’m not the big boss. If you came here expecting to find poor, frail Olivia bound and gagged and held for ransom, then I guess there are a few things you don’t know. For example, who do you think made it look like Antonio was the mysterious “Russian patron” of poor dead Melodie? Who do you think manipulated him into bringing you Melodie’s case in the first place?’

‘I’m not listening to you,’ I say miserably. ‘You’re a murderer.’

‘I’m a problem-solver, Charlie. Let’s take your problem. Did you know Olivia stalked you after she found your name in Bernard Zborowski’s files of victims— I mean medical test subjects? What, you didn’t really think she was a member of the ASMR community? I wish you could see your face. The penny has finally dropped, hasn’t it? Didn’t you think it was rather strange that she invited you into her home, that she even offered to help you set up your business? Didn’t you wonder why a woman of her intellect would want anything to do with a little toerag like you?’

‘You’re a liar. We are friends.’

He’s laughing and shaking his head. I feel weak and drowsy. I need to check out of this conversation. I can’t deal with it. Too much.

‘You’re such an utter fool, Charlotte. It’s almost refreshing, after all the liars and cheats I deal with on a daily basis. You aren’t pretending to be a fool. You are the real thing.’

I am a fool. I am a fool. I am a fool and a toerag, and I can’t listen to this, I can’t take it, I can’t deal, I . . . don’t wanna be me any more.