The impact he felt against the side of his neck was sudden and agonising and he fell to the floor as if electrocuted, his vision failing as he fell. He felt like he’d been shot and couldn’t organise his thoughts as his limbs refused to work. He felt himself being dragged along the floor and his wrist being secured as his vision went black.

Branko had no idea how long he was unconscious for, as he slowly began to come around. He was confused that he couldn’t move his right hand to try to stand up. Looking around, he could see that it had been secured to the radiator he was sitting against, his legs extended out in front of him.

The room wasn’t empty; a white clad figure wearing a face mask sat on the threadbare armchair in the corner of the room, appraising him coolly.

‘I told you I was coming for you,’ Tom said in a low voice that managed to combine calmness and menace in equal quantities.

Tom was dressed in a white, paper, forensic overall with the hood up, a face mask, blue nitrile gloves, and black plastic overshoes. He looked just like the crime scene examiners Branko had seen on the TV after murders or other serious crimes.

He seemed utterly calm and completely in control. Branko couldn’t see his features but the dark, almost black eyes and calm, low voice were unmistakeable. Branko’s heart sank; he knew what was about to follow.

‘What do you want?’

‘Only one thing. To kill you. You die tonight, Branko. But before I kill you I want you to hear something, so you know why I’m here.’

Branko tried to speak but Tom silenced him with a raised hand.