It took me a while to find the poetry section, which had been relocated since I was last in the bookshop and now resided in the quietest corner of the uppermost floor. There was a stack of signed copies of This Bridge No Hands Shall Cleave on the table, left over from the aborted book launch. I slipped one discreetly into the middle of the pile of books I was carrying, which included Dante’s Inferno, G. K. Chesterton’s The Innocence of Father Brown, Ian McEwan’s Atonement and a couple of self-help guides on how to beat insomnia.

At the counter, I made it very clear to the bookseller that Toby Salt’s book wasn’t for me but an uncle who I didn’t like very much.

Monday October 8th

How to get Pikachu onto a Bus

Above all, be gentle.

Explain why the journey is necessary

in calm and reassuring tones.

Remember, Pokémon are not natural bus travellers

preferring instead to hide

in the overhead luggage compartments

of high-speed trains.

A double-decker is best.

Boarding a minibus or local ‘hopper’

may result in feelings of claustrophobia

and cause Pikachu to evolve prematurely into Raichu,

particularly should a passenger

be carrying a thunder stone.

Remember to ensure

you have the correct travel documentation

as anime restrictions may be in place

upon designated routes.

If all else fails,

lay a trail of apples to the door

and then quickly bundle him in,

being mindful at all times

of the risk

of electrical discharge.

DI Lansbury’s beard appears to change with the seasons. Today I detected autumnal reds, yellows and oranges within it, hitherto unnoticed. I wondered whether it might sprout snowdrops in January.

He was here again with Sergeant Tuck to pick up my diary.

‘Don’t worry, sir, we’ll have it back to you in a few days once we’ve given it a good read through. Sergeant Tuck has got you this to keep you going in the interim.’

Sergeant Tuck had wrapped it up as if he were giving me a birthday present. The new notebook had a cover which featured some kind of creature from Japanese anime; yellow with red cheeks, black-tipped long ears and a lightning-shaped tail.

‘Sorry about that, sir,’ said an apologetic Sergeant Tuck. ‘They were all out of “Hello Kitty” ones and that was the nearest I could find.’

DI Lansbury picked up my old diary from the desk to put in his briefcase but not before he’d noticed the folder that was underneath it. It was a manila folder, plain and unremarkable, except for a label in the top right-hand corner upon which was written the words ‘Project Death’.

He stared at it for about ten seconds.

‘Ah, would you mind if we also borro—’

‘Go right ahead. Just take it,’ I snapped. ‘Take it all.’

Tuesday October 9th