One last climb up the staircase. He opened Alicia’s bedroom door. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. What had happened? What if – you heard stories – the bathroom – his razor – the tablets – no, the bathroom was empty. He bellowed her name so loud he almost missed her answer:

“I’m in here.”

The living room. Weak with relief at seeing her, and then he saw the expression on her face, and knew something was awfully, terribly wrong. The filing cabinet, his insurance policy…

“What is this?” Alicia gestured wildly at the mess of photographs and papers spread around her. “Who are all these people?”

This was how she must have felt when she came into her room and saw him sitting on the bed. He made himself look. She held a photograph. A man, a woman, a room. A bed. A hidden camera. A name and date on the back. Their faces clearly visible.

“I was a copper.” Did he sound believable? “You know that, you’ve always known that. It was evidence. Old stuff. I kept it locked away because I didn’t want you to see it and be frightened and then I suppose I just forgot I had it… ”

“Don’t lie to me.” Her eyes were burning. “I wanted that to be true but it’s not. I went through all of it and I looked for names and then I went on Google and none of this stuff is about people who got caught.”

“I didn’t get everyone I went after, no-one does, these are the ones I couldn’t… ”

“All these names. They’re police officers. And councillors. Important people.”

“Yes, and that’s why I couldn’t get them, they were too influential, the CPS wouldn’t… ”

“And you know what else I found? I found you.” She was so angry she was spitting. “I found you in a court case. You and some others. Everyone got off, but you had to give evidence. And you were in the dock with them.”

“Alicia. Listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“Look, you’re right. I wasn’t – I wasn’t exactly a copper.”

“Not exactly a copper?” Her face was ugly with scorn.

“But I left, okay? I left. After your mum… you know. After your mum.”

Alicia stared at him. “You mean she knew about this as well?”

“Yes. No. Well, sort of – look, the point is – all that stuff – it’s insurance. When you’re in you’re supposed to be in for life. When I left, it was a risk. I needed something to bargain with, in case they caught up with me. It’s just insurance, that’s all – something to keep us safe.”

She scrabbled wildly through the photos again.

“And all these girls? Were they all your, your mistresses or something?”

“No, of course not! It was professional, they were professionals, they got paid a wage! I would never – look, pet, I loved your mum, okay? It was just a job, a well-paid job, it was just business, that’s all.”