‘Unlikely. They actually think it’s more likely you put it on there yourself, to reinforce your story of being the victim.’

I shook my head in disbelief. Outside on the street, a bus rolled up, stopped, disgorged a dozen passengers onto Cricklewood Broadway and moved off again. People shopping, taking a late lunch, meeting friends, going for a swift half at the pub. Living their lives, quite happily, as mine disintegrated at increasing speed.

Larssen said: ‘Who else has had access to your phone in the last four days?’

‘No one. I don’t know. My wife, I suppose, but she doesn’t know my passcode.’

‘Perhaps she guessed it,’ he said, picking up his coffee.

‘I doubt that. She can barely remember her own, let alone guessing someone else’s.’

‘Are you sure about that?’

You hacked her phone, why couldn’t she have done the same to you? I ignored his question.

‘What does it mean that they found these searches?’

He took a sip of his latte.

‘It’s another piece of the puzzle as far as Naylor is concerned. Circumstantial, but telling all the same, in the eyes of a jury.’

‘A jury?’

‘Yes.’

‘As in, court, trial, prosecution?’

‘Yes, Joe. We need to start being prepared for that.’

‘A few days ago you were saying it would probably fizzle out long before it came to this.’

‘A few days ago the police didn’t have the evidence they have now. They weren’t digging holes in the park looking for a body.’

‘Christ.’ I rubbed my face with my hands. ‘What a mess.’

For a moment neither of us spoke and I could hear the muted sounds of traffic in the street outside. I was hungry and exhausted and suddenly wanted all of this to be over.

Larssen said gently, almost apologetically: ‘That’s not all, Joe.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m afraid . . . that’s not the worst of it.’

My coffee cup was still half full but I couldn’t face it. I was starting to feel sick.

‘Go on,’ I said, trying to keep my voice even.

‘When they took your mobile, they took away your car too?’

‘That’s right.’

He lowered his voice still further, making me lean closer so I could hear him.

‘Their forensic people have been doing various tests as part of the investigation, as you can probably imagine.’ He paused, checking over his shoulder to ensure there was no one coming out of the toilets behind him. ‘And I have it on very good authority, from a highly reliable source, that they have found blood and hair in the boot of your car.’

‘Blood?’ I repeated.

‘From two different individuals. Small amounts.’

I shivered involuntarily. Someone walking over my grave.

‘It’s possible I cut myself taking things to the tip, something like that.’