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‘A human being,’ he repeats.

With a weary gesture he puts one hand inside his shirt, pulls out a folded piece of paper and tosses it over towards Anders.

‘The letter he was asking for,’ he says. ‘For the past seven years I’ve been asking to see a lawyer … Not because I’ve got any hope of getting out … I am who I am, but I’m still a human being …’

Anders crouches down and reaches for the piece of paper without taking his eyes off Jurek. The crumpled man tries to get up again, leaning on his hands, and although he sways slightly he manages to put one foot down on the floor.

Anders picks up the paper from the floor, and finally hears a rattling sound as the key is inserted into the lock of the door. He turns and stares out through the reinforced glass, feeling his legs tremble beneath him.

‘You shouldn’t have given me an overdose,’ Jurek mutters.

Anders doesn’t turn round, but he knows that Jurek Walter is standing up, staring at him.

The reinforced glass in the door is like a screen of grainy ice. He can’t see who’s standing on the other side turning the key in the lock.