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‘Hello!’ Anders calls, walking faster.

The man turns round, rubs his hand over his mouth and moves away from the car. Senior Consultant Roland Brolin.

Anders slows down as he approaches the car and pulls his key from his pocket.

‘You’re expecting an apology,’ Brolin says with a forced smile.

‘I’d prefer not to have to speak to hospital management about what happened,’ Anders says.

Brolin looks him in the eye, then holds out his left hand, palm up.

‘Give me the letter,’ he says calmly.

‘What letter?’

‘The letter Jurek wanted you to find,’ he replies. ‘A note, a sheet of newspaper, a piece of cardboard.’

‘I found the knife that was supposed to be there.’

‘That was the bait,’ Brolin says. ‘You don’t think he’d put himself through all that pain for nothing?’

Anders looks at the Senior Consultant as he wipes sweat from his upper lip with one hand.

‘What do we do if the patient wants to see a lawyer?’ he asks.

‘Nothing,’ Brolin whispers.

‘Has he ever asked you that?’

‘I don’t know, I wouldn’t have heard, I always wear earplugs.’ Brolin smiles.