Langdon and I made the return trip in silence. I assumed he was angry at having paid off the kidnappers. There was no point in apologising: Dad would sort him out soon. Dad and Mum. I couldn’t wait to see them. From the back seat I willed the driver to put his foot down, but inevitably we hit traffic. Some guy on a motorbike had apparently taken out a fruit stand. They were loading him into an ambulance while the cars failed to swerve around pulped melons spread across the road. I was surprised I wasn’t more annoyed by the delay and realised that I was as nervous of reaching the hotel as I was desperate to get there. The fact I was nervous made me more worried still. My gut was telling me to brace for bad news. I didn’t want to trust my instincts, but I knew they were usually right.

The delay was torture. I decided to call Amelia; she might be able to put me out of my misery. I hit call’, then wished I hadn’t, but she answered almost immediately so I had no chance to end the call before it had begun.

‘Any news?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ she said.

I bit my tongue, then, when she didn’t offer any more, said, ‘Amelia, is it good or bad?’

‘Good,’ she replied, and my heart, which I now realised had been hammering away in my chest, skipped a beat entirely.

‘Great!’ I said. ‘Tell me they’re both OK?’

‘Ah, no. I mean, I don’t know. Not yet, but Xander received a call.’

‘Xander? What about? From who? Put him on!’

Xander had evidently heard Amelia’s end of the conversation and reverse-engineered mine. He was quick to apologise, though he needn’t have: my literal genius friend wasn’t his fault. ‘It’s goodish news, in a limited sort of way,’ he said. ‘Marcel called. He picked up our messages and said that he’s been in touch with Yannick, who did indeed organise your parents’ trip east. But he didn’t accompany them himself. He took them to the airport, but he had business to attend to in Kinshasa so arranged for an associate to chaperone them from Goma. Marcel doesn’t know who that associate was, and Yannick’s been out of contact since Innocent died. Marcel heard he was dealing with the funeral arrangements. It’d be understandable if monitoring your folks’ whereabouts hasn’t been top of his to-do list. But it looks like they did set off for Goma, en route to the mines.’

Langdon was regarding me closely as I listened to Xander. His eyebrows were up, expectant, to start with. Then they dropped with his shoulders when he realised Mum and Dad hadn’t been released. Had I been hard on him? Perhaps his silence had been more angry than anxious. He wanted good news too, obviously.