The figure freezes, shoulders rising. Then he turns, his face difficult to make out as the hoody’s low over his eyes, his face in a dark pool of shadow. After a moment of indecision he legs it even faster than the last one. Kush is off after him before me, giving chase and catching up with the man just as he skids round a corner out of view. The last I see of them is Kush jumping up, a flash of white teeth clamping round his left arm.

I spend twenty minutes walking the streets searching for Kush or the man but don’t find either. Eventually I give up and head back to the houseboat.

The kitchen light flickers when I flip the switch and for a few seconds I think it’s going to blow. I try a few more lights and each one does the same. Something’s not right, I’m going to have to call that damn electrician again.

I’m just pulling out my phone when I spot movement outside. It’s Kush, I find when I’m back on deck, standing by the gangplank. I call him over and he trots across. He’s panting hard, but otherwise appears fine. I reach out to try and stroke his head but he flicks his snout up so it catches my fingers. It feels wet. I bring my hand up so I can see it better.

My fingers are slick with blood.

‘Fucking unbelievable,’ Vermeer’s saying as I step into the incident room. I raise an eyebrow, which sets her off, telling me the whole story that she’s clearly already told those present several times already. Not ten minutes earlier her warrant request had been turned down because of lack of evidence that it would ‘further the investigation’. After she’s vented, she decides to speak to Beving, and orders me along.

‘And so you agree that Huisman is potentially a person of interest?’ she asks him after barging into his office.

I like her style. Beving does not. But he seems oddly subdued. Anyone else entering his office unbidden would be instantly reassigned to a community liaison support role deep in the countryside on a permanent basis. But Vermeer seems to hold some sway over him.

‘Possibly,’ Beving concedes.

‘Then I’m not sure what else we need? This was a simple, routine request, and it’s been rejected for no reason that I can see. Sir.’

Beving takes a moment before speaking.

‘Rykel, wait outside.’

‘Rykel, don’t wait outside.’

I like Vermeer even more. Beving throws me a death stare before turning his attention to Vermeer.

‘Look …’ he starts before trailing off. He’s flicking the corner of a bit of paper with his thumb. He tries again. ‘The place you want to search has … Well, it’s possible they have friends in all walks of life, all professions and –’