Bill had been doing some thinking since the meal at the Jade of the Orient, and especially about what they'd learned about Bev and her dreams. And he had a theory. A half-baked one, as usual, but a theory nonetheless.
"B-bev. She, uhm. S-sh-she suh-said that ever s-s-since we fuh-fought Ih-ih-it when we wuh-were k-k-k-kids, she's b-been d-druh-dreaming about our, our d-deaths. She knew ah-ah-about," he said, and paused for a moment, looking down at his hands where he was fidgeting with his pen. "Sh-she knew about yuh-you. Wuh-what h-h-had hah-appened. And sh-sh-she said wuh-we'd a-a-all end uh-up d-d-d-doing similar things, b-b-but she wuh-wouldn't g-g-give details, and it w-was b-b-be-because of that b-b-b-buh-bastard. If w-we d-d-didn't kill ih-it this t-t-t-tuh-tuh-time, that's wuh-what w-w-would happen t-to all of us. S-suh-So I think mmmaybe it's Ih-It's f-fault, and you d-d-don't nuh-need to a-ap-apuh-apologise."