All I can think about on the drive home is that a murderer might be sending Nick his trophies. And this person knows where I live. After I lost it with Nick, telling him me and the boys should be put in a safe house, he told me to keep calm. Said at this point it was only his theory; he needed to share it with his team. He was adamant it was nothing more than someone trying to give information to the police that they hadn’t been in possession of before.

An anonymous helper.

I try to hold on to this. But why send it to Nick’s house and not the police station? There are too many unanswered questions. And I already have enough of those piling up on me.

I pull up outside my house with half an hour to spare before the school run.

Carl is sitting on the step, his diary clutched to his chest.

Oh, my, God. How can he be so blatant? He must know I know the diary has gone from beneath my mattress, yet here he is, parading the fact he’s somehow been inside my house without permission and taken something. Yes, it’s his, but he didn’t retrieve it legally. I’m still sitting in the car, the engine idling, contemplating what to say to him, when I see a blur of movement in my rear-view mirror.

Davina storms up to him. I see him leap up in reaction.

I lurch into action, flinging the car door open and rushing over to them both. I have to intervene before Davina says something stupid.

‘What can I do for you, Carl?’ I say, at the same time as gently pushing Davina out of the way – hoping she’ll get the message not to speak.

Carl steps back and shifts his eyes to Davina, then back to me, a worried expression passing over his face. Does he think we’re onto him and about to confront him together? I should tell him we know what he’s been up to, but for now, my natural instinct is telling me to hold on to our knowledge. Knowing he’s showing the same people, multiple times, around a house that’s for sale and a single sighting of him leaving another house with a woman, isn’t proof of anything much. Which makes me wonder what Davina was about to say before I stopped her. She was the one who’d been so adamant we should gather evidence before acting in the first place. Surely, she wasn’t about to accuse him of any wrongdoings right here in the street?

‘I was coming to update you. As I’ve been trying to do for days – you’re not even answering your phone.’ He’s on the defensive.