the arguments once and for all. Which is why we're all here, of course. Why they gave us this facility.'
His woman colleague had taken the silver band off Angelo's forehead and the straps off his wrists, and was wiping the grease from his skin with pieces of cotton wool.
'Who are you?' he said to her, and she answered, 'Just a friend.'
'Where will he go?' I said.
Tom Course shrugged. 'Not my decision. But I'd be careful. I'm not a civil servant. My advice, I don't suppose, will be taken.' His remark was clearly aimed at the observer, who remained obstinately impassive.
I said slowly, 'Could he still be violent?'
Tom Course gave me a swift sideways glance. 'Can't tell. He might be. Yes, he might be. He looks harmless. He'll never hate anyone, he can't remember anyone long enough. But the sudden impulse…' he shrugged again. 'Let's say, I wouldn't turn my back on him if we were alone.'
'Not ever?'
'How old is he? Forty?' He pursed his mouth. 'Not for another ten years. Twenty perhaps. You can't tell.'
'Lightning?' I said.
'Just like that.'
The woman finished wiping the grease and was holding out a grey shirt for Angelo to put on.
'Have we had tea?'he said.
'Not yet.'
'I'm thirsty.'
'You'll have tea soon.'
I said to Tom Course, 'His father was outside… did Angelo see him?'
Course nodded. 'No reaction. Nothing on the machines. Conclusive tests, the whole lot of them.' He looked slyly at the observer. 'They can stop all the arguing.'
Angelo stood up out of the chair, stretching upright, seeming strong with physical life but fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, moving without total coordination, looking around vaguely as if not quite sure what he should be doing next.
His wandering gaze came to rest on Jonathan and me.
'Hullo,' he said.
The doors from the outer room opened wide and two white-coated male nurses and a uniformed policeman came through it.
'Is he ready?' the policeman said.
'All yours.'
'Let's be off, then.'
He fastened a handcuff round Angelo's left wrist and attached him to one of the nurses.
Angelo didn't seem to mind. He looked at me uninterestedly for the last time with the black holes where the eyes should have been and walked as requested to the door.
Diminished, defused… perhaps even docile.
'Where's my tea?' he said.
