‘Let me put it this way,’ Vermeer says when it’s clear the man doesn’t think he has to talk to her. ‘I know you know him, I know that you and your wife have screwed the council out of two properties by going through a fake separation and that you now rent out the flat they gave you to fund your lifestyle. And I also know that the person renting it is this man, who has, it seems, disappeared. So I’d like you to take this conversation a little more seriously.’

Gerard shrugs. ‘Never seen him.’

‘In which case I’ll be forced to make a phone call to the council and let them know about your little scheme. Fair to say, I don’t think they’ll be that pleased. You’ll probably lose both properties. Then where will you sit around and jerk off to computer games?’

Upstairs there’s the sound of a door opening, footsteps, a toilet lid being raised. Whoever it is vomits hard, the heave and gush following a hard night’s drinking. Must be the lovely lady of the house, Sharon.

‘What do you want?’ He’s got a sullen look now.

Toilet flush, footsteps retreat.

‘What I want is for you to spill your guts as effectively as that.’ She points to the ceiling. ‘You know this man, and I want to know how to contact him.’

‘Like I say, I don’t know him. It was done through a guy; he handles the clients and takes a cut of the rent.’

So Gerard has an agent in the middle.

‘We need to speak to him,’ Vermeer says.

But Gerard, having just admitted to defrauding the government, and therefore his fellow citizens, slumps down on the sofa, picks up the console control, and starts wasting zombies like Vermeer and I don’t exist. Time for a tried and tested psychological approach. I step forward, slap the controller out of his hand and drag him to his feet.

‘Did you not hear what she just said?’

He looks at me like I’ve just swiped his last candy.

‘I can’t tell you that. People like him don’t like to be found.’

I release him and he bends down to pick up the controller again.

‘What about this?’ Vermeer steps up to him, all reasonable, cajoling almost. Then she screams in his face. ‘Where is he?’

Shocks the guy. Shocks me too. But it gets through to him.

‘All right, fuck. No need to shout. I don’t know his name and I’ve only ever seen him a couple of times.’

‘Description.’

‘My height, average-looking really. Head’s shaved, though. And he wears glasses.’

‘He sounds like a demigod. How do I get to meet him?’

‘I’ve got a number on my phone.’