Chapters (33)
- Copyright
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
‘I’m afraid Constable Dodds is on leave, sir.’
‘Well, what about Sutton then?’
‘Who?’
‘Constable Sutton. He was with Dodds when he came round. When I first explained to the police about all the fucking shit our neighbours have been putting us through.’
‘There’s no need to use that language, sir.’
‘Why the fuck not?’ Jamie clenched his fists, bit down on his bottom lip. ‘I’m on the verge of going down there and…doing something.’
The young policeman put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. ‘Sir, calm down.’ He gestured towards the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you make a cup of tea?’
Jamie didn’t want tea. He sighed and sat down on the sofa. The policeman pulled up a chair and sat in front of him.
‘So you don’t know PC Sutton?’
He shrugged. ‘I haven’t been in the Force long, sir. Sutton might have transferred to another station. It does happen.’
‘But it was only a few weeks ago.’ Jamie put his head in his hands. Right now he felt like he only had the most tenuous grip on reality. He imagined himself at the edge of a deep, deep pit, clinging on desperately, his knuckles white with the strain, his fingernails breaking as he clawed the earth, trying not to fall into the darkness.
‘Well, I’m here now, sir. Why don’t you tell me about it.’
‘I don’t want to have to explain the whole thing all over again. That’s why I asked for Dodds or Sutton. They know what I’m going through. Why is Dodds on leave? Is he ill?’
The policeman – whose name Jamie had forgotten the moment it had been uttered – shifted in his seat. Jamie could tell he was growing impatient. ‘Policemen are allowed leave too, Mr Knight.’
Jamie put his head in his hands. He simply didn’t have the energy to tell the story all over again. He hardly had any energy at all. The only things that were keeping him going was his outrage and anger, twin engines of fury burning and smoking in his gut.
‘Somebody broke in here while we were away at the weekend. They tampered with my computer, installing a virus on it. Then they emailed that virus to my workplace, my upstairs neighbour and God-knows-who-else. I’m waiting for my friends to start phoning me to tell me how much they hate me.’
The policeman took out a notepad and a pen. ‘OK. Any signs of forced entry? Were any windows broken, doors kicked in, locks broken?’
‘No.’
‘Was anything taken?’
‘No.’
‘Any damage caused – apart from the computer virus?’
Jamie shook his head. ‘No. God, I know this sounds ridiculous. But I also know that someone was in here. They wrote something on the computer screen. The word ‘danger’, drawn in the dust, mocking me.’
‘Ah. Can I see it?’
‘Of course.’
They stood up and both peered at the screen.