The deli on the corner does a nice bagel. I consider going in but my stomach is not up for much. My nerves have me full. Down the street a crowd gathers, puffing on cigarettes. They seem to be happy with their fix, chatting, laughing, ignoring danger. I can’t ignore danger. I’m knee-deep in it.

The watery sun blinds me so I open my bag and search for my sunglasses. They’re not there. Instead I see the light flashing on my cell, which I’d turned to silent for my interview with Turner. Checking the call, I see it’s Stephen Black, on my case already. Hastening my step, I kill the call and put the phone in the pocket of my jacket. He won’t stop, I know that, the guy is nervous, which makes me nervous. He’ll call and call and call, probably leave a few texts too. He has a lot to lose.

I walk all the way home. When I get to the corner of my street, I step right into the aroma from the coffee shop on the corner. I realize that I’ve never sat in that coffee shop, that I only ever got coffee to go. I decide that today I’m going to buy a coffee and sit near a window like a normal person. I will read for a while and then survey the passers-by. People-watching, imagining their stories while I drink coffee. If I’m going to prison, this is the sort of thing I want to miss.

When I get back to my apartment block, Lenny is behind the reception desk reading a magazine. Ignoring the phone buzzing in my pocket, I walk over.

‘Hi Lenny,’ I say, resting my bag on the counter.

‘Hi Becca.’ He puts down the magazine. ‘Everything okay?’

‘I was just wondering about the keys.’

‘The keys?’ he says, standing up. Lenny is about six feet tall and four feet wide. His dark hair is dusted with grey and his skin is tough as car tyre rubber. He yawns constantly, no matter what time of the day it is, and when he is about to be asked a question, his face assumes a worried expression.

‘Did you give anyone a key to my apartment last week?’

‘Of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t do that without your permission.’

‘Is there any way someone could get the key without you knowing?’

‘No way. All the keys are kept in a safe in the basement. Why? Was someone in your apartment?’

‘I don’t know. I thought there was, but now I’m not sure.’ Taking my bag from the counter I pull the strap over my shoulder. ‘Maybe it was just my imagination,’ I say, walking towards the elevator.

‘Are you sure? I’ll come up and have a look with you if you want.’

‘No thanks, Lenny. I’m fine.’