She peered out of the window and saw a brown Saab. The driver’s door opened and a man got out. He stared straight at the house, straight at Tina. She quickly moved to one side, dropped the book on the floor.

She didn’t dare check to see where he’d gone. She had to get out of the house at all costs. She clutched her mobile in her pocket. Her top was sticking to her back, she was hot and rigid with tension.

She decided not to leave the same way as she’d come in. She didn’t want to meet the man in the Saab.

Who was he? And what was he doing here?

As Tina fumbled with the back-door lock, she heard someone insert a key into the front door. There was no time to speculate, she had to get out, maybe make a note of his registration number.

Find out who else has a key.

She inhaled the fresh air, then let out a huge sigh of relief. The door clicked shut behind her and she hurried down the steps, then edged along the wall of the house. Her heart was pounding. When she reached the corner she would peep around, see if the man had disappeared.

Her forehead was beaded with sweat as she leaned forward. Please let him not be there, please let him—

She couldn’t suppress a scream when she saw him standing less than half a metre away.

What the . . . ?

He gave a chilly smile.

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.’

Tina backed away.

‘No problem,’ she said, but her voice was far from steady.

He moved inexorably towards her.

‘Do you live here?’ he said.

She shook her head, still backing away.

‘So what were you doing in the house?’

Tina didn’t know what to say. She was in the middle of a residential area, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. How could she possibly feel so unsafe in broad daylight?

The man’s eyes narrowed. For some reason it was clear to both of them that he had the upper hand, that he had the right to ask questions and she must answer. She felt a sudden spurt of anger.

‘Are you a police officer?’ she asked.

Her tone was rather shrill, but at least she’d managed to say what she wanted to say.

How can you have a greater right to be here than me? Or even the same right as me?

At first he didn’t respond, then he said:

‘Yes, I am. And I think you and I need to have a chat.’

Only then did she recognise his voice. He was the officer she’d spoken to on the phone, the one who’d dismissed her. And now he was standing here on Dan and Malin’s drive, asking her what she was doing there.

Her shoulders dropped.