“No.”
“Previous head injury? Particularly in that area?”
“Possibly. I don’t recall.”
“All right. Tell me, when did the headaches start?”
He gave her a look and waved at his scar vaguely. She gave him a pained smile. “What I meant is, was there a delay of a few days, or did you notice the headaches immediately?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Okay.” She tapped her pen against her mouth, regarding him for a moment. “Are you married?”
He frowned. “No.”
“In a relationship?”
“Why is that relevant?”
“I need to know if there’s anyone who sees you regularly enough to notice changes in behaviour patterns. Is there someone like that, Mr Mikkelsen?”
“No.”
“Okay. So, headaches…what else?”
“I get…confused sometimes.”
Again with the sitting up. It was really annoying him. She’d be crap at poker. “In what way?”
“I misinterpret things.”
“You’re seeing things?”
“No. Yes.”
“Things you know in reality can’t actually be there?”
“I sincerely hope not.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“I’m…behaving uncharacteristically.”
“Okay. Do you smoke, Mr Mikkelsen?”
“No.”
“Have you ever smoked?”
“No.”
“Drink? More than, say, a social glass of wine at the weekends?”
“No.”
“Good. That’s extremely important in these situations. Critical. Do you eat a healthy diet?”
“Yes.”
