'Everyshing.  All zhare.'

'Nothing missing in the flat?'

'Not zhat I can shee.  Everyshing'sh here.  Apart from my fucking teesh.'

'I take it you'd never met this girl before.'

'No, I hadn't.'

'Can you remember the address of her flat?'

'Notting Hill shomewhere.  I shink.'

'Street?'

'I…No idea.  I wash…I wash being dishtracted while we were in the takshi.'

'I bet.  You go to that club a lot?'

'Fairly oshten…Kate?  You shtill there?'

'Still here.  Mike, are you in pain?'

'Mental fucking anguish.  But my moush ish numb.'

'Bleeding much?'

'Nnn…no.'

'See any puncture marks on your gums?'

'What?  Umm, hold on…'

I shivered.  I pulled a towel from the chrome rack above the bath and wrapped it round myself, then sat on the toilet again.  I could feel my frown deepening.  I looked in the mirror.  Not attractive.  I pulled a hand through my hair with some difficulty.

On the phone, Mike Daniels said, 'Hnn.  Could be.  Few of zhem.  Maybe four.'

'So your teeth weren't knocked out, they were extracted.'

'What short of fucking nutter takesh out half shomebody's teesh?  Was zhish a dentisht?'

'Sounds like it.  A central London dentist working serious overtime in the small hours of the morning.  You better hope they don't send you the bill.'

'Thish ishn't funny!'

'No, actually your voice is quite funny, Mike.  It's the implications that aren't.'

'Well, I'm sho fucking glad I'm shtill able to amushe you, Kashryn, but what the fuck am I going to do?'

'Have you reported this to the police?'

'The polishe?  What, you mean Shecurity?'

'No, the London Metropolitan Police.'

'Uh, no.  I didn't think — '

'Have you told anybody else?'

'No, jusht you.  Shtarting to regret it, now.'