She closed her eye and tried to swallow. The acid had not only managed to rip the insides of her mouth but also the larynx. ‘Is my husband dead?’ she croaked, her voice barely audible.

Lowry fidgeted in his seat. The raw flesh around her swollen mouth crinkled, and he winced, almost feeling her pain. ‘Um, have the doctors spoken with you about . . . er . . . ?’

‘No, they said you would talk to me.’ Her voice was a gruff whisper.

He guessed she already knew the answer.

‘I’m sorry. Yes, he died at the scene.’

She nodded, still with her eye closed. ‘Do you think it was quick?’

‘Um, yes, it was. Do you know who did this?’

‘He was selling that drug.’ She paused to take a breath. ‘You know the one. Flakka, it’s called. He changed after that, you know. I never really knew him anymore.’

Lowry took out his pocketbook and began scribbling notes, allowing her time to get her words together; he could sense she was struggling. ‘Did he know the man who did this? Was he a dealer? Or perhaps a user?’

She shook her head again. ‘All I know is he’s called the Governor. He’s an evil man.’

‘The Governor? What does he look like?’

‘He’s a big man, a huge man . . . but he had a balaclava on his face, and so did the others, including the girl.’ She stopped and took a laboured gasp for air.

Lowry held his pen poised. ‘The girl?’

‘Yes, the girl. She was the one who did this.’ She slowly lifted her arm and pointed to her face.

‘Do you remember anything about this girl? Can you recall her age, her name, anything at all?’ He knew he was pushing her, but he had to get answers, in case she didn’t make it.

The drugs were obviously taking control as she began to talk more slowly. ‘No. You see as well as the balaclava, she wore a Mickey Mouse mask, and it was very dark. But I remember two things. She had long dark hair and she was young. She laughed at me, like a kid would, and then the men put a bag or a sack over my husband’s head. He didn’t stand a chance, they were so big . . . They were so big . . . so cruel . . . Why me?’ Her words were now slow and drawn-out. The drugs were taking hold.

Lowry stopped writing. The poor woman was asleep. He sat and stared at her and then studied his notes. This attack shocked him more than anything, and it wasn’t the first case. The whole world was going mad. Had the Devil come down to earth? he wondered.

***