Jack stood right in the middle of the wide hallway and turned on the spot taking in every detail. All of the furniture in this house was immaculate, but none of it looked used. It certainly didn’t feel like a home. Even the family portraits looked as if they were just for show. Jack also noticed how much artwork had been left hanging on the walls and wondered why the burglars had not stripped the place bare as they had done in other properties. Perhaps the unexpected presence of Mathew had forced them to cut their losses; or perhaps George Barrowman’s artwork was as fake as him.

Sally went to the kitchen door and shouted, ‘Who’s hungry?’ Masked heads popped up from beneath desks and windowsills, and around doorframes. Sally then headed upstairs, past Jack, saying, ‘Mathew should have showered by now. I’ll see what’s keeping them.’

Back in the kitchen, George was distracted from his work by a seemingly endless stream of CSIs and police officers who had swooped in to snaffle sandwiches and then scurry back out. Seeing as the heavy police presence was already disturbing George, Jack decided to try and build some bridges by asking him about the gold market.

For the next ten minutes, Jack listened to George explain its ups and downs in various countries across the world. Jack could see that George was very good at what he did. And he had to be. He worked in a high-stakes world, where one false move could destroy a fortune. Jack figured that’s why he’d had a go at Gifford – because Gifford wasn’t as good at his job as George was at his. So, Jack knew that all he had to do to keep George cooperating was to measure up to his standards.

Suddenly Mathew raced into the kitchen, looking very agitated, arms in the air, shouting, ‘Masked men! Masked men!’ He flapped his hands just above his shoulders, grimaced as if he was in pain and, in between words let out a high-pitched ‘eeeeee’ sound. As soon as he saw Jack, he headed straight for him. As Mathew was over six feet tall, Jack’s instinct was to bring his hands up to defend himself against a possible attack – but by the time Mathew had moved across the kitchen, George was standing in between them. ‘Calm.’ George spoke in a slow, quiet voice. ‘Calm. What’s the matter?’

‘Masked men! Masked men!’ Mathew repeated. Although an adult, right now Mathew seemed like a little boy needing his dad for comfort. George took Mathew by the wrists and explained that the ‘masked men’ were policemen and were nothing to be afraid of. Mathew put his hands heavily on George’s shoulders and squeezed in a pulsating, grasping motion. Jack could see this physical contact was comforting and regardless of the discomfort, George put up with it.