William and I went to the sweet shop on the way home from school. Buying him sweets usually cheered me up. Then the park for a quick go around the swings, slides and climbing frames. While my son played, I called Adam’s number. I needed to talk to a friend, someone who knew me. Someone who would always have my back. He was a smart guy and I needed his take on everything that was going on.

His mobile rang three times and went to voicemail. Second time it rang only once before Adam’s recorded voice kicked in. I left a message asking him to call me.

William and I made our weekly visit to the library next, where I had been trying – without success so far – to get him interested in books other than those he was reading at school. We went along the shelf on the 5–7 bookcase, me pulling books half out and testing the titles on him.

‘The Tiger Who Came to Tea?’

‘Got.’

‘101 Fairy Tales?’

‘No.’

‘Mr Grumpy?’

‘Had that one at school.’

‘Well, what would you like?’ I asked.

‘’Spicable Me.’

‘That’s a film, matey.’

‘Can we get the film, then?’

‘They don’t do films here, just books.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s a library.’

He frowned as if this was a ridiculous answer.

‘Lucas has ’Spicable Me.’

I was about to tell him why a good book was better than Despicable Me any day when my phone rang in my pocket, vibrating against my thigh. A library assistant gave me a stern look as I took my phone out and checked the display, thinking it would be Adam calling me back. But it wasn’t.

‘Joe?’ It was Mel, tension in her voice. We had not spoken since lunchtime at Regent’s Park, but now she sounded stressed again.

‘Hi,’ I said quietly. ‘You OK?’

‘The police are here. They want to talk to you.’

I suddenly remembered Larssen’s text from earlier. Shit. I’d forgotten to call him back again.

‘Where are you?’

‘At home.’

I put my hand out to William. Obediently, he put his small hand in mine and we walked quickly out of the library, past a sign on the wall that said Mobile phone-free zone.

‘They took their time,’ I said. ‘I called them yesterday.’

‘You called them?’

‘Yes. To report the break-in.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘We had a break-in yesterday, someone came into the house. Not someone: Ben.’

‘What? Why didn’t you tell me?’ She sounded frightened.

‘I was going to tell you, when the time was right. But I didn’t want to freak you out.’

‘Well I’m pretty fucking close to freaking out now, Joe! The house is full of police!’

Her voice was edged with panic, close to hysteria.

‘OK, OK,’ I said. ‘Try to calm down. How many police are there?’

‘A lot. A dozen, maybe more. They’re going through everything.’