I nodded my head. His voice was so much softer than I expected, his manner infinitely more gentile and polite. There was something else: he smelt fantastic, like he was straight out of the shower and had smothered himself in Brut. I was startled, because it was just unexpected. I wasn't sure if all of this was just more unnerving than if he'd barged into the room shouting and snarling and reeking like a dead dog.
"My colleague here will need to take some photographs of your injuries if that is okay with you?"
I caught the eye of the young guy; he smiled apologetically. There was silence for a few moments as I unbuttoned my pyjamas and he took photographs. He thanked me for my time. DCI Baldwin sat down on the edge of my bed. "Would you be able to describe the attacker?"
"I'd say he was maybe a year or so older than me, so nineteen or twenty or something, like. He was maybe a few inches taller than me, so probably just over six foot. The guy was kind of slim but - I don't know - he was sort of strong looking, you know? He was wearing faded blue jeans and a white tee-shirt."
"Any distinguishing features? Birth marks? Moles?"
I shook my head. Then I remembered something. Was it something? "His eyes. He had these distinctive eyes. I'm not really sure why they were so distinctive, but I really noticed them. They were grey, I know that..."
"Grey?"
"Yes."
"Right."
The other guy was writing it all down on a pad. He probably didn't notice me looking at him, for he pulled an array of faces as he scribbled away.
"Did he give you a name?" DCI Baldwin asked.
"He said he was called Sam."
"Do you think it was his real name?"
"Who knows?"
"Can you tell me what happened?"
I closed my eyes. I gripped the sheets tighter, but this was only to stop my trembling. My mum spoke for me. "Only do this now if you feel you can, son."
I took a deep breath and told DCI Baldwin everything. The words fired out of my mouth. My body was covered in a layer of cold sweat by the time I'd finished, but somehow I felt cleansed, and so much lighter.
DCI Baldwin had moved closer. I felt his knee pressing against my leg. He didn't speak for a few seconds; he just widened his blue, watery eyes. "So, you went down the back of the library to urinate?"
My cheeks burned. I didn't want to repeat that part because I knew my mum would not approve. "Yes," I replied. "I wanted to make sure it was away from the high street, completely out of view. I wouldn't have done it at all if I wasn't desperate."
DCI Baldwin held up his hands and smiled. I couldn't help but notice just how big his hands were. "Don't worry, Jeffrey," he said, dimple in one cheek. "We're not going to arrest you for urinating in a public place. We have bigger fish to fry. So you turned around and he attacked you with the cut-throat razor?"
"Yes."
"That's strange," he said, thumbing his chin, coated with black stubble.
"It is?"
"You're sure you went to the back of the library?"
I nodded my head. I knew it was a loaded question, though.
"It's just you were found at the front of the library, Jeffrey," DCI Baldwin said. "At the front font of the narrow walkway next to the entrance with the concrete steps."
I glanced at my mum. Her smile was reassuring, completely non judgemental.
"You know what I think?" DCI Baldwin asked.
I shook my head. I really didn't want to know what he thought. Not now. Not anymore.
"I think he dragged or carried you to the side entrance."
"You do?" I asked, sensing my stomach deflate.
"Yes. And you know why he did this, Jeffrey?"
I took another deep breath. "No."
DCI Baldwin pushed his hands against the edge of the bed, lifting his full bodyweight. He looked down at me. "Because he wanted you to be found."
My mum piped up now, with a high-pitched shrill. "You will catch him, won't you, Detective?"
DCI Baldwin turned to my mother and smiled. "Your son has done you proud today, Mrs Allen. I'm sure, with Jeffrey's cooperation, we'll catch this brute before he can do any more harm. He is the only witness we have, you see, and so he is vital to our operation. I'll be in contact for you to come down to the station to give a full report once you are out of hospital, Jeffrey, if that is okay with you?"
I told him that I would cooperate, we exchanged pleasantries and that was the last I saw of DCI Baldwin until I was out of hospital. To all intents and purposes, everything had gone swimmingly. The dread of meeting him again, though, intensified until the scars on my body felt trivial.
The month of May 2018 simmered but the cackle of thunder always threatened, yet the temperature in June is rising to boiling point. I've been walking in no particular direction for over an hour, just chewing the fat, and now my legs feel heavy, the heat clings to my body and the enjoyment has just disappeared; I decide to take a short cut and skirt through the underground supermarket car park. It is now the middle of the day - I am fairly sure of that without glancing at my watch - and most of the cars park up early in the morning and are picked up again at the end of the working day. There is nobody else around, and if I relieved myself against
