‘Yeah, yeah. I’ve done this heaps of times. I might not be a doctor but I’m not a fucking moron. I know what I’m doing.’

‘I’m going to go.’

‘Good, because you are shitting me to tears, woman. Fuck off.’

Paula slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried down the black-wallpapered hall. She took a silk scarf from her bag and wrapped it around her hand before touching the doorhandle. Once she opened the front door, the fresher, cleaner air of the landing filled her lungs. She wanted to go straight home now and have a shower. But then she hesitated. She needed to know the hydromorphone was going to kill him. It was a huge dose, but what if he didn’t inject all of it? What if he’d been using opioids so much, he’d built up a tolerance? She needed to be sure.

Paula shut the door of the apartment loudly, so he would assume she’d left. She was trembling so much, she pressed her shoulders blades against the black embossed wall and slid down to sit on the carpet, staying as quiet as possible. She didn’t dare step back round the corner in case he spotted her, but from the hallway, she could hear Santino in the living room.

She listened to him prowl around, muttering, barely audible, but a few words were decipherable—‘bitch’, ‘cops’, ‘baby’, ‘fuck-wits’. The next thing she heard was the squeak of leather and the whoosh of air being pushed out of the cushions as he flopped down on the sofa.

There was silence for a few moments and then the sound of him sighing, making little satisfied vocalisations, punctuated by a couple of triumphant ‘ha’ sounds. This was him experiencing the initial euphoric rush of the drug he’d injected.

Paula leaned against the black wallpaper and listened to John Santino breathe. His respiratory rate dropped quickly but after ten minutes it seemed to sustain at a certain level. The dose in that syringe, assuming he had injected all of it, plus the alcohol in his system, should definitely be enough to suppress his breathing so severely he would die.

Her cheekbone was throbbing with pain where he’d walloped her. Putting her fingers to her cheek, she saw a small amount of blood, where the metal corner had broken the skin. She was careful to wipe her own blood onto herself rather than smear it anywhere in this apartment.