I wanted to reach out to you. To hug you and tell you it wasn’t your fault, but, well, it wasn’t practical. So I slunk away with a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes and I went back to my car, which was parked a couple of streets from the mosque. Elliot was asleep under a blanket in the boot.

I’d done the things I needed to do. The preparations had been made. So it was time to say goodbye and put Elliot somewhere he couldn’t be hurt. Somewhere safe.

I drove to Ipstones and met Cynthia Hughes just outside the village. I was worried the police might be watching her home, so we arranged to meet on a track we both knew. Elliot didn’t need to see the drama of my arrest. I could sense her doubt, and there was suspicion in her eyes and an undertone of accusation in her words.

‘Mr Elmys, where have you been?’ she asked.

I told her I had some things I needed to do.

‘The police are looking for you,’ she said. She was unable to hide her disappointment, but that was so typical of Mrs Hughes, her feelings always shone through. She was far too honest. ‘These things they’re saying, please tell me they’re not true.’

It still breaks my heart that I wasn’t able to tell her otherwise, that she died being disappointed in me, but the truth was and still is that I’m responsible for Sabih Khan’s death. So I didn’t answer her question. I ignored it.

‘You’re going to need to take care of Elliot,’ I told her, and I carried him from the boot of the Land Rover to the back seat of her car without waking him.

I told her I’d been keeping him . . . sorry you, Elliot, sedated. I apologize for that, Elliot, but you’d been through a great deal. Seen too much, and I needed you calm.

‘What about you? What’s going to happen to you?’ Mrs Hughes asked me.

I gave her a sealed letter. ‘Show this to the lawyer. He will make sure you have everything you need to raise Elliot,’ I told her. ‘I’m not going to be around.’

She broke down, but she didn’t hug me. I think by that stage she was afraid of me, which is another sad little thought I carry. Everyone I ever loved had come to think poorly of me. Including you, Harri.

‘Oh, Mr Elmys, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Hughes said.

And that was the last time I ever saw Cynthia Hughes.

I kissed you on the forehead, Elliot, shut the door and left you with the one person who loved you almost as much as your parents. It was very sad, but then so much of this is.

I drove into Leek, parked the car, and walked into the police station. It was late and there was no one around apart from an officer on reception. He asked if he could help me, and I still remember his look of surprise when I said, ‘My name is Benjamin Elmys. I’m here to turn myself in for the murder of Detective Sergeant Sabih Khan.’