‘Then they got them all out and we were left in the room until a man came in and told us that by process of elimination we’d all received the placebo so we’d be fine. We’d have to stay in overnight, just for observation, but that was it. We were each given a room and I’m pretty sure they sedated us because I slept like I’d never slept before. Next morning I woke up and there’s a man in the room and he asks me how I am and how do I feel and blah blah. It all seemed so fake, like he didn’t give a shit at all but was just asking the questions because he’d been told to. First thing I do is ask about the others, the ones who got hauled away and he said they’d all been stabilized and that although it had been horrible for them they were now recovering and no lasting damage had been done. He also said that the company would like to compensate us for our trouble and he had some money he could give me. He brought out a briefcase and pulled out a couple of really thick envelopes. He opened one so I could see it was full of notes. He told me it was ten thousand euros and that I could have it. I’d just need to sign a bit of paper.’

‘Did you?’ Vermeer prompts once he’s fallen silent.

‘Yeah, of course. What would you have done? He handed over the envelopes and the papers. I signed. Before he left he leaned over and said that if I ever told anyone about what I’d seen I’d be breaking their agreement and the company would sue me for breach of contract. Then he leaned closer and whispered in my ear that the legal case would ruin me but that would be nothing compared to what he’d make sure happened to me.’

‘This man you talked to, did you get a name?’

‘No.’

‘Description?’

‘Just some corporate guy. Nice suit, clean shaven. He seemed sort of anonymous, like I can’t fully picture him.’

‘What sort of age?’

‘Probably forties, maybe older. He was one of those people where it’s really hard to tell.’

‘Hair colour?’

‘Blond, I think.’

There’s more. I can tell. But for some reason he’s not going to offer it up. Time to force it.

‘Okay, that’s some useful information you’ve given us. But there’s something else, isn’t there?’

Polman looks across at his lawyer and nods. The lawyer reaches into his own briefcase and is soon sliding a few sheets of paper across the table.

‘What is this?’

‘The document Mr Polman was asked to sign in the hospital that day.’