I liked him. He let me explain who I was, who my parents were, what they were doing here in Kinshasa, why they had decided to head east, without interrupting me, despite the fact that not everything I said was relevant. I could tell that by watching his fingers. They tapped away at the keyboard when the detail was useful, and sat calmly on the tabletop when it wasn’t. To his credit, Langdon didn’t interrupt me either. Not until I petered out with a vague, ‘They didn’t leave me a message and I don’t know exactly where they were going.’

Then he said, ‘They left a message through me, Jack.’ To the policeman he added, ‘I offered to organise their transport, but my sister-in-law had already made arrangements. She’s a formidable woman and her husband – my brother – a most capable man. They had the address of my business operation. I understood that’s where they were headed. But either voluntarily or otherwise, they’ve clearly been … waylaid.’

Detective Hubert said, ‘Most worrying for you, Jack. I’m sorry.’ His voice was deep and smooth as treacle, at odds with his thin frame and scrawny neck. Yet the sorry was sincere, no doubt about it, and his, ‘We’ll do our utmost to help end the uncertainty for you, I promise,’ was reassuring. I hadn’t realised it, but I’d been gripping the desk hard as I said my piece. Now I let go. It wasn’t long before I was clamping the thing tight again, however, thanks to Amelia.

‘Excuse me,’ she piped up, ‘but I have to point this out –’

‘You’re sure about that?’ muttered Xander.

‘Yes. You two –’ she nodded from Langdon to the police detective and back again – ‘are using deliberately wishy-washy words. Voluntarily or otherwise waylaid and end the uncertainty skirt round Jack’s real concerns. He’s worried someone has got hold of his parents and hurt them, or worse. What he wants is for you to find them and bring them back to him, not pretend everything’s OK.

Amelia was totally right – as usual – and totally wrong at the same time. Of course I wanted my parents found. But a bit of reassurance in the meantime from the policeman had actually made me feel better. I wouldn’t have minded the ‘better’ bit carrying on for a while. She meant well though, so I shot her a grateful smile and asked Detective Hubert, who was actually scratching his head while looking at Amelia askance, what would happen next.

‘I need photographs of them,’ he said. ‘For identification purposes.’