‘I’d already bought your wife’s newspaper, and a few others at the same time so it wouldn’t look odd, with a view to meeting you, looking you in the eye, eventually planting the seeds that would send you after whatever occult knowledge I might want to know. You surprised me by seeing that silver stuff on my cards. I only knew about that once I saw your memory of our meeting. When you came to interview me, I was prepared; I dropped a few hints about the sort of thing I wanted you to look into. Didn’t work out. Perhaps I was too subtle for the plod mentality.’ He grinned, enjoying Quill’s reaction to that. ‘Mind you, I did fob you off with that fake scrying glass. Just like with the Bussard Inquiry, I admitted to a little guilt, and this time got away with something much bigger. The detail of the ripped shirt, that’s just the sort of visual image that sells a story, that makes people swallow a narrative.’

‘Then you killed Tunstall because he was about to talk to us—’

Vincent sighed. ‘Only because he was definitely going to implicate me. He’d done everything I asked, including finding that piece of paper with all the contact details on Spatley’s corpse. Really, he got so close to having a happy life with his family and a big payoff.’

‘If only he hadn’t had a conscience.’

‘Well, exactly.’ Quill couldn’t tell if Vincent was being sarcastic or literal.

‘What about me, then? What did I do that drove you to…?’ Quill mimed stabbing himself repeatedly.

Vincent wasn’t put off his stride in the slightest. ‘Two things. You got hold of the name Mary Arthur, and you had that meeting of minds with my power source while I was looking into your dreams. I decided I could still use the other three, but that you had to go.’

‘I nearly got away from you, though, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, and you would have done, I grant you, except…’ Vincent seemed to consider for a moment, then smiled again, chancing his arm. ‘Well, okay, perhaps there’s something you could tell me. Perhaps something you found out in Hell has given you a lead on this.’

‘And I should answer your questions because…?’

Vincent held up the button. ‘Because then I might let you live.’

Quill made an expression as if he was weighing up that promise. ‘I’ve seen how you err on the side of caution with that.’

‘If you don’t, I’ll definitely send you back to Hell, okay?’

Quill nodded. ‘I’m convinced by your argument.’