“How about your security system?” Okoro says. “Could that have logged a breach, or recorded anything downstairs before you were woken up?”
With his pen, James indicates the motion detector dangling from the corner of the kitchen wall, cracked plastic and trailing wires, where Dom and I had levered it off its mount last week.
He says: “You think the individual did that to evade detection, do you?”
“Oh,” I say, my cheeks reddening. “No. That was me.”
The younger officer frowns. “You broke your own burglar alarm?”
“It didn’t work, anyway. The main alarm system, I mean. And there were cameras hidden in a couple of the units.”
“Cameras,” James repeats. “Right.”
“Do you want to see them?”
The two officers exchange a quick glance. James finally puts his notebook away in a Velcro-strapped pouch over his stab vest. Okoro’s face is a picture of neutrality but I can see the skepticism lurking just below the surface.
“At this stage we’ve probably seen enough, sir.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say. “You think I was just stumbling around half asleep, half drunk during a power cut, and I fell down the stairs in the dark.”
“I didn’t say that,” she says. “But… is there a possibility that you fell? I think you mentioned that you’ve only been in thehouse a few days, and it can be very disorienting to be in an unfamiliar environment, in the dark, for the first time.”
“The person who came in here,” I say, “they’ve already threatened me. Threatened my family. It’s not the first time I’ve had to call the police.”
This seems to get the sergeant’s attention. I find the message thread on my phone and show it to her, starting from the first contact on Tuesday last week and ending with today’s message:Next time we bring petrol and matches.
“I can see why you might be concerned,” she says, scrolling through the texts. “It may be worth everyone’s while if we pay this individual a visit. Have a quiet chat with them, calm things down a little. Have you got an address? Name?”
“No, sorry. They used the name Mason at one point but I think that was probably bogus.”
She hands the phone back to me.
“You’ve been in contact with this individual but you don’t actually know who it is?”
“No.”
“Makes it rather tricky for us to follow up.”
“I know, I just…” I shrug. It occurs to me that I’ve not even mentioned the “to-do” list under the names ofParkerandBarrow. But I don’t think it would make much difference at this stage; they seem to have made their minds up. “I thought there would be something you could do to help.”
Her radio crackles into life and she has a brief exchange with a brusque male voice at the other end, both she and James standing up and moving toward the door in response.
I follow them out.
“So what now?” I say. “Is that it?”
Okoro turns, gives me an apologetic look. “Best thing you can do for now is to remain vigilant, keep all your doors and windows locked, and get the burglar alarm back online. If you see anything—anything—suspicious, you give us a call straightaway. Until then, you can see why we’re struggling, right? There’s not a lot that’s concrete in any of this, not much for us to work with.”
Her radio crackles again with another urgent voice, and the two of them hurry back down the drive to their patrol car without another word.
53
The fake Rolex is delivered by courier that afternoon, complete with engraved initials and date to match the original.
I lay the watch out alongside the genuine items on the dining room table—the scarf, the wallet, the glasses, the keys, the dog collar, and the phone—and explain the plan to my wife and brother-in-law.
“I’m going to hand it all over,” I say. “Before anyone else gets hurt. Just hope they don’t realize the Rolex isn’t the real deal.”
