‘That’s not good enough,’ Grey spluttered. ‘I want… ‘

‘Now, Bruce,’ Smith said, ‘I think we have a reasonable man here. I’m the administrator of the hospital, Mr Hardy. We should be able to straighten things out.’

Grey didn’t like that. ‘I’ve got a half dozen people down there who’re going to need special treatment for days over this, maybe longer. This bloody hooligan… ‘

Even though I wasn’t at my most acute I could tell that Grey was under more pressure than was good for him. He was red in the face and a purple vein was throbbing under the flushed skin near his right eye. ‘Have you called the police?’ I asked.

‘No.’ Grey bit down hard on the word.

I drank some water and handed the glass back to Smith. ‘Perhaps you should.’

‘I don’t think that’s necessary,’ Smith said. ‘Just tell us what you and the other man were doing.’

‘You have to see it from my point of view, Doctor. I’m here in some part of a building I’m not familiar with in the company of three men who could be axe murderers for all I know.’ I pointed to the man at the door. ‘I know he delivers a good hit. You know my name so I assume you’ve taken my wallet. I just don’t feel safe.’

‘This is absurd,’ Grey snorted.

‘So, call the police. What’s stopping you?’ I swung my legs off the bed and put my feet gingerly on the floor. I wondered if I could support my weight. A pratfall wouldn’t have created the right impression just then.

‘What circumstances would make you feel more comfortable, Mr Hardy?’ Smith said.

Any public place, I thought. Preferably where they serve drinks. ‘What about your office? With a view of the gate, a few people around, a telephone on the desk and my wallet in my hand.’ I pointed again. ‘I can do without him and I wouldn’t mind a drink.’

Smith smiled. ‘Happily, my office has a view of the gate and of the water and I’ve got a good single malt. How does that sound?’