Number 49 looked exactly the same as every other house on the road. It was high and narrow – two tall floors and an attic space, from what Matt could tell – and stood separated from the buildings on either side by slim brick alleyways that ran down its length. A bay window at the front overlooked a tiny, neat garden and a driveway. Matt was pleased to see the latter was occupied; a small, blue Volkswagen was standing on the rain-soaked concrete.

Wiping more rain out of his eyes, Matt leaned forward and undid the latch on the tiny wooden gate in front of him. Pushing it aside he stepped over a puddle and made his way up the path towards the wooden front door. The wind howled overhead and the gate banged shut behind him, making him jump.

It’s okay, he thought. There’s nothing to worry about in here.

Still, the smile he forced onto his face as he reached out and rapped the metal door knocker felt hollow, and the sound that echoed away into the house caused his stomach to lurch. It was stupid, he thought. A couple of months ago he’d had to phone up the CEO of a large bank and tell the guy that the paper Matt worked for was planning to publish an article on his money laundering activities –that was the sort of thing you were meant to feel nervous about, not a house call with a middle-aged woman. But still…

Footsteps in the hall cut off Matt’s train of thought. A shadow fell across the frosted glass square cut into the door, and he heard the sound of a bolt being drawn back. A second later there was the clink of a chain, and then a latch turned and the door swung inwards.

For a moment, Matt thought he’d got the wrong house after all.

The woman standing in front of him was the right height, but her hair was a glossy, reddish blonde and she looked younger than he’d been expecting. Her dark eyes were scanning his face, though, and after a second the smile she’d been wearing as she opened the door was replaced with a look of confusion. Her eyebrows drew together and old worry lines stood out on her forehead.

‘Hello?’ Her tone was light and airy, but her eyes continued to scan Matt’s.

‘Hello, Mrs Stevens?’

The name had the desired effect. The woman standing in the hallway took a step backwards and her eyes widened, and any residual doubt in Matt’s mind was wiped away. He forced a frown onto his face.

‘Sorry, have I got the wrong house? This is number 49, isn’t it?’

The woman in the hallway had recovered. She smiled once more, but her eyes didn’t leave Matt’s face.