She looks puzzled. As if she was expecting to ask the questions.

‘We had a report from him earlier today. So I have to ask you—’

Her phone rings. She looks at it and sighs, looking for somewhere more private to take the call. Not much space here, so she moves into the hallway. I smile at DS Smith but he doesn’t smile back. He just stands staring at me, hands in front. I can hear her, though.

‘Yes, Mr Atkinson. So you said. And when was the last activity?’

A pause. I hear her sigh. She’s getting more and more pissed off with this by the minute. I wait for it. I know you, Jack.

‘Well, that’s impossible. Because I’m with Mrs Atkinson right now. In her home. I’ve been here for the past fifteen minutes so it’s impossible.’

Another pause. I know you. You’ll be one step ahead, wondering how I did it. You’ll be Googling timed comments and wondering if I got someone to do it for me. She returns.

‘Right. Someone’s been posting pictures of your husband on Facebook without his permission and he wants to press charges. Invasion of privacy.’

I frown at her.

‘Who is it?’

‘Well, he thinks it’s you. He thinks that you have his bag and you’re doing it. But here I am. You don’t have the bag and you’re nowhere near Facebook.’

I nod.

‘Oh dear. This is a proper mess. What’s going on here?’

She doesn’t know. I can tell by her face. But she persists.

‘Look, I have to ask you. Do you know anything about some property taken from Peter Daubney?’

I shake my head.

‘No. Of course not. What property? Shouldn’t you be asking whoever took these photographs? I phoned you about these photographs and now you’re accusing me?’

She and DS Smith exchange glances.

‘Not exactly. Anyway, could I ask you to stay around? We might want to ask you more questions over the next few days.’

‘Oh. I hope I’m not a suspect.’

She shakes her head. ‘Not at the moment. We’ll have to review the CCTV again, but not at the moment. Like I said, stay around.’

Chapter Eight

Of course I’m a fucking suspect. Even I suspect me. But until they have something on me, I’ll carry on as normal. Or as normal as I can be.

They take my statement and leave with the photographs, which naturally I’ve photographed with my mobile phone beforehand.

The best thing that came out of this mess is that she swallowed the comment trick. Nice work, even if I say so myself. So what now? What, now the police won’t take any notice of you? By the look on DS Percy’s face she thought you were a little bit hysterical. Accusing your ex-wife of posting pictures of you on Facebook.