‘Okay. Maybe I should monitor you, so I can hear what’s going on. Hold on one second.’ Pet clicked at some icons on her iPad and the satellite phone buzzed. She accepted the call and passed the handset to Tom. ‘Keep the line open and I can monitor in real-time. If you get captured or something, I will know about it and can call help.’

‘Good idea,’ Tom said, putting the phone in his jacket pocket.

‘What are you going to do in there?’

‘I’m not sure yet. Depends what I find,’ he said, opening the car door and getting out.

The issue was that Tom had no idea what the next few minutes would bring, but his gut told him that it wouldn’t be good.

He strode across the road towards the property, walking past and giving it the merest of glances, noting that the door was part-glazed and appeared shut. He walked to the access alley four doors down and turned left down an alleyway cluttered with rubbish and a discarded mattress. Gentrification had not quite hit Willesden Green yet, and most of the houses looked tired and shabby.

Now in the shadows, stealth took over. His trainers made no sound on the path as he made his way down behind the gardens. None of the back gates were numbered and, by counting back, he was able to identify the rear of the flat, which had a completely demolished fence. Picking his way silently through the debris, he made for the rear of the property. Dropping to his knees, he crawled the final few feet to the rear window. Very slowly, he inched his head up to look through the window and into a small, shabby bedroom with no lights on, the flicker of a computer monitor giving the room an eerie glow.

The door was open and gave a partial view into the front room. He couldn’t see fully inside but could observe the rear of an ancient leather recliner chair parked in front of a TV that was switched on to a sports channel. A single leg was visible, stretched out from the chair as its occupant apparently lounged in it watching the programme. There was a scuffed Nike trainer that Tom couldn’t recall Ivan wearing but, in reality, he hadn’t taken any notice of his chosen footwear.

Tom dug out his burner phone and pressed the last number dialled function for Ivan’s phone. He immediately heard it faintly ringing from within the house. Peering into the bedroom, he saw the light of the smartphone screen illuminated on the bed but there was no trace of movement from the chair in the living room. With a cold feeling of dread, Tom realised he was going to have to affect an entrance.