There was a movement on the other side of the cemetery. I had thought we were alone when we arrived, but now I realized that there was a man, watching us. He was a long way away, standing behind one of the taller gravestones, but even at that distance I thought there was something familiar about him, and I found myself shivering without quite knowing why. He was wearing a full-length coat with gloves and a hat. I couldn’t make out his face. From this distance, it was just a blur. And that was when I realized. I knew exactly where I’d seen him before. I started forward, running toward him. At that moment he turned around and hurried off, moving away from me.

“Nick!” Tim called out.

I ignored him and ran through the cemetery. There was a gravestone in the way and I jumped over it. Maybe that wasn’t a respectful thing to do but I wasn’t feeling exactly religious. I reached the main path and sprinted forward. I didn’t know if Tim was following me or not. I didn’t care.

The northern gates of the cemetery opened onto Old Brompton Road. I burst out and stood there, catching my breath. It came as a shock, coming from the land of the dead into that of the living, with buses and cabs roaring past. An old woman, wrapped in three cardigans, was selling flowers right next to the gate. Business couldn’t have been good. Half the flowers were as dead as the people they were meant for. I went over to her.

“Excuse me . . .” I said. “Did someone just come out through this gate?”

The old woman shook her head. “No, dear. I didn’t see anyone.”

“Are you sure? A man in a long coat. He was wearing a hat . . .”

“People don’t come out of the cemetery,” the old woman said. “When they get there, they stay there.”

A moment later, Tim proved her wrong by appearing at the gate. “What is it, Nick?” he asked.

I looked up and down the pavement. There was nobody in sight. Had I imagined it? No. I was certain. The man I had seen in Joe Carter’s photograph had been in the cemetery less than a minute ago. Once I’d spotted him, he had run away.

But that was impossible, wasn’t it?

If it was Lenny Smile that I had just seen, then who was buried in the grave?

DEAD MAN’S FOOTSTEPS

We began our search for Lenny Smile the next day—at the Battersea offices of the charity he had created.