I left him where he was and walked around the kitchen, opening drawers. I found what I was looking for in the one below the sink. A large, sharp kitchen knife. I would use it to scare him. Not to hurt him. At least that was what I told myself as I held it up for him to see.

‘Four people have already been murdered,’ I said. ‘And two others – my partner and a police officer – are in hospital with bullet wounds. You need to understand that this is not just about stopping further bloodshed. This is also about me getting sweet revenge. So do you really think that I’m going to pass up this opportunity to do exactly that?’

I didn’t tell him about my miscarriage because I feared that if he shrugged it off I would slit his throat.

I bent over and put the tip of the blade against his left cheek, just hard enough to pierce the skin and produce some blood.

‘This is what’s going to happen,’ I said. ‘I’m going to have a look around your house to give you time to think this through. If you’ve got any sense you’ll conclude that there’s no point holding back. Not only will you save yourself a lot of grief, but it’ll also work in your favour when you face your day in court.’

I threw the knife on the nearest worktop and started to take off my belt.

‘First I need to ensure that you won’t make a noise and try to roll around,’ I said.

Something close to panic seized his expression. ‘Your people have already searched the house. There’s nothing to find. They took my laptop and phones and—’

I shut him up by grabbing a tea towel from a holder on the wall behind me and stuffing it into his mouth. I secured it behind his head and then used my belt to hog-tie him by attaching it to the cuffs and to his own belt.

‘I get the impression you don’t want me to look around,’ I said once he was completely immobilised. ‘I’m guessing that’s because you’ve got something to hide.’

I took a pair of disposable gloves from my bag and put them on. Then I went upstairs first. There were three bedrooms and a bathroom. None of them yielded anything of interest, and they were all pretty bland and lacking in warmth and colour.

The living room had more character. There was a brown leather sofa with two matching chairs, a cream shagpile carpet, and a huge flat-screen TV that seemed to fill up half of one wall.

But my eyes were immediately drawn to the opposite wall, which was lined with three floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The middle bookcase was open like a door and beyond it was a small room with a desk inside.