We pushed on through the market. One stall sold goats’ hoofs, the next wire mesh, the one after that fake Nike trainers. This one here, beneath a pink-and-yellow umbrella, had nothing but battered old motorcycle helmets, that one there sold seeds. In among the general scruffiness, one person stood out. He was tall, he walked towards us like he was stepping onstage to sing a song and he was dressed in an immaculate purple corduroy three-piece suit and bowler hat. In that heat! He was also wearing a monocle and carrying a cane. As he passed us he twirled it and gave me a nod. I realised my mouth was hanging open.

‘I’ve read about that,’ said Amelia. ‘It’s a thing.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘A fashion thing here, known as Sapeurs, which means “Society of Ambience-Makers and Elegant People”, in French. It’s a sort of competitive bling spiffiness. Dates back to the Second World War, when the men who had fought for France came back to Brazzaville, across the river, with fine bits and pieces of posh clothing to wear or sell. It spread to Kinshasa later. The Sapeur attitude is no-matter-how-hard-life-gets-I’m-going-to-look-the-bomb. Those guys spend masses on clothes, even though some of them barely have enough left over to buy food. Stay cheerful and look-like-a-god-at-all-costs – that’s their motto.’

I took the guy’s photograph. He gave a little bow. We watched him swagger away. Pretty much everyone else was in shorts and a T-shirt, or a simple dress. He must have been boiling! But he got a lot of appreciation – high fives, whoops, fist bumps – for his efforts, and there was something about his attitude I liked.

Once we made it through the market the police station was round the corner, as I knew it would be. I walked into it with my shoulders back and head high, hoping that some of the Sapeur’s confidence might have rubbed off on me. I even managed to talk to the desk sergeant in French. Obviously it wasn’t very good French as he replied in English, saying that Detective Hubert was on his lunch break but would be back soon. He invited us to take a seat. We did so, but not before I’d noticed that he was playing chess on his mobile phone.