I waited, but Marcus did not emerge in the five minutes I had given him. However, I stayed put, waiting to see who would emerge.

I called Chico.

‘Everything all right?’ he asked, answering at the first ring.

‘Fine, but I might be a little while. Stay right where you are and keep your phone handy.’

‘Okay. Will do.’

I put my phone onto silent mode.

I was always keen for Marina to call me, but not right now.

A good fifteen minutes after I had last spoken to Marcus, the front door of number 42 opened, and a man’s head appeared, looking up and down the road. It wasn’t a head I recognised.

The head withdrew and, after a few seconds, three men came out and turned up towards the marketplace. I recognised one of them straight away as Anton Valance, and I had a pretty good idea who the other two were as well. Judging by their heights and builds, they were the two I had met twice before, but this time they were without their balaclavas. One of the two had a tattered old golf bag slung over his shoulder, but I didn’t think for a moment that he was looking for a game.

I held my breath and used my phone to video the three men as they seemed to be coming directly towards where I was hiding. But they passed by the gateway on the road, not ten feet away from me, and I captured them all in glorious technicolour, their faces brightly lit by the last glimmers of the evening sunshine.

When I was sure they were out of hearing range, I called Chico again.

‘Yep?’ he said.

‘Three men are walking up from here towards the marketplace. One of them is Valance, but he’s not wearing his overcoat. He’s in a blue jacket and one of the others has a golf bag over his shoulder. Try and see where they go.’

I hung up.

I looked back at number 42. In their haste to get out, the three had left the front door wide open.

I dialled Marcus’s number but there was no reply.

I stepped out from my hiding place and went gingerly to the edge of the road. I looked up towards the marketplace. There was no sign of the three men, so I went across the road and shouted through the open front door.

‘Marcus.’ No reply. So I shouted again. ‘Marcus, are you there?’

Still no reply.

I checked once more that the three men were out of sight and not coming back, then I stepped inside, went quickly up the stairs, and straight into Marcus’s bedsit.

At least he was alive.

He was on his knees beside the bed and he was groaning.

I looked around his room.