Jessica sat next to the bed, Rowlands perching next to her with a pad and pen. ‘Can you start by telling us what you remember?’ she asked.

He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I’d been out for the day and was on my way back to the hotel.’

‘Where had you been?’ At first Martin said nothing but then he looked away from Jessica, unable to meet her eyes. ‘Have you started drinking again?’ she persisted.

His voice was quieter than before. ‘I’ve tried not to . . .’

Jessica thought about their conversation in the van and how Martin had said stopping drinking had helped him sort his life out.

‘Why did you start again?’ she asked, knowing it wasn’t really any of her business.

‘It’s not as easy as you think. When you’re inside, everything’s decided for you. Out here, you have to start making decisions. Then, with the fire at the house and everything . . .’

Jessica realised there was little point in dwelling on something that was going to upset him – at least not until she had the information she needed. ‘Okay, so you were out for a drink. Were you on your own?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you were making your way back to the hotel . . . what happened then?’

‘The hotel they’ve got us in is in the centre but I was out at this place Longsight way. I was going to get the bus but thought I’d walk it off. I was most of the way back. There’s this alley opposite the hotel next to a coffee place. I was cutting through and felt something hit me from behind.’

Jessica already knew he had been found barely metres from the hotel in a pool of his own blood. Even though he was resting on it, she could see a bandage at the rear of his skull. ‘What else do you remember?’

Martin shook his head. ‘Not too much. I fell forward and hit my eye on the kerb.’ He reached up to touch the blackened area. ‘I think someone kicked me but . . . that’s it.’

‘Did you see anyone or hear anything? Maybe you passed someone on your way into the alleyway?’

‘No.’

‘How about your route home? Have you been cutting through the same spot more than once recently?’

‘I guess. Why?’ Martin was beginning to speak more slowly, his words slurring into each other.

‘If someone had been watching you over a period of days, they might have known that was the way you were going to return to the hotel.’

‘You think someone could have been following me?’

‘I don’t know. Have you seen anything suspicious in recent days?’

Martin seemed embarrassed by his response. ‘I’m not always aware of it all . . .’

Jessica thought the sobering nature of his words jarred strongly with the way they overlapped each other, almost as if he were thinking more quickly than his body would allow him to talk.

‘Do you know of anyone who might want to harm you?’

Martin met Jessica’s eyes, as if putting the name ‘Anthony Thompson’ telepathically in her mind. He never said the words but the implication was there.

‘I didn’t see anyone,’ he said, as if following up his unspoken suggestion with the acknowledgement that he felt as if he deserved what had happened to him.

‘You can say if you know who did it,’ Jessica assured him.

He shook his head. ‘I didn’t see anyone.’

Jessica could see the same guilt in his eyes as when they had shared the back of the van together. She didn’t know what else they could get from him. An additional, more formal statement might be taken at some point but, if he continued to insist he hadn’t seen anyone, there was very little they could do other than check the CCTV cameras in the vicinity. She didn’t expect them to reveal the attacker.

‘Has someone contacted Ryan?’ Jessica asked.

Martin nodded, wincing painfully and no longer trying to hide it. ‘I think he’s on his way.’

‘Right . . .’

‘I’ll deal with him,’ Martin added.

Jessica felt as if he had been a step ahead of her at every stage of their conversation. She was going to say she would hang around to speak to Ryan, in order to make it clear there should be no form of retaliation.

‘He’s going to have to let us deal with things,’ she said.

‘I know. I’ll talk to him. He’ll listen to me.’

Jessica stared into the man’s eyes and saw that he meant it. With a small nod, she stood, Rowlands following her lead. ‘Can you give us a minute, Dave?’ Jessica asked, not looking at the constable.

Rowlands ummed for a few moments and then touched her gently in the small of her back to let her know he would be outside and available if she needed anything.

As he left, Jessica continued to hold Martin’s eyes. ‘Can I ask you a question?’

‘Go on.’

‘As I’m sure you can understand, with everything that has been going on, we have been looking into a few things from your past.’

Martin said nothing, his face not changing.

‘That pub you burned down with Alfie inside wasn’t the first building you set fire to, was it?’

He continued to stay silent, holding Jessica’s eye and licking his lips.

‘How many places?’ Jessica asked.

Martin winced, his eye flickering shut, before opening again. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

Jessica broke eye contact, sitting back in her chair and staring at the ceiling. ‘I wanted to believe you when we were in the back of that van. I wanted to think people could change and do good things after bad ones.’

‘What really excites you?’ Martin asked. The question took Jessica by surprise and the room suddenly felt heavy with menace. Before she could think of a reply, Martin continued, ‘Maybe it’s chocolate, maybe it’s rollercoasters? Perhaps you like driving really fast? I have no idea. We’re all different but for me . . . I find enjoyment from other things.’

His voice had cleared again and Jessica wondered if the slurred speech from before was either put on, or a figment of her imagination.

She didn’t reply straight away, wondering if he had anything else to add. ‘Are you saying you like setting fire to things?’ she asked after the pause.

Martin said nothing, shuffling in his bed and attempting to roll over. ‘I think I’d like to get some sleep now.’

Rowlands knew her well enough not to ask why Jessica had wanted to talk to Martin by herself. Instead, as they exited the hospital, he turned his phone back on and made a call. Jessica got the gist of the conversation from his half.

‘Jason not having much luck?’ she asked as they arrived at the car.

‘No. He says Anthony was too drunk to talk when they first went round. They’ve been letting him sober up and they’re going to have another go soon. Are we going back to the station?’ Rowlands asked, starting the engine.

‘Not yet. I need you to take me somewhere but we have only been to the hospital if anyone asks.’ At first Jessica thought he was going to query why but he simply asked for the address.

Despite the way she ribbed him, Jessica knew it was moments like this that showed her how good a colleague and friend Rowlands was. He had left her alone without knowing why and then agreed to drive her somewhere simply because she had asked.

She didn’t know the area they were heading to but told the constable to keep driving past the house after she had spotted it and then pull up at the end of the road.

‘Are you okay to wait here?’ she asked.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right?’

‘I’ll be five minutes.’

Jessica got out of the vehicle and walked towards the house. She double-checked the number on a piece of paper and folded it back into her pocket.

The car with the number plate Andrew had noted down was parked on the road directly outside the house. Jessica walked along the pathway and knocked on the door.

A scowling young woman soon answered, her long blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail. Her baggy jogging bottoms and matching top would have made it look as if she had just got up, except for the thick layer of make-up. She eyed Jessica up and down, casually holding a cigarette in her free hand. ‘Who are you?’ she asked harshly.