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window?’
    ‘No,’ I said, ‘not on purpose, anyway. I pushed at the door and the pane of glass was loose and fell inside the kitchen and smashed on the floor. One of the panes at the bottom of the door was broken already.’
    ‘But the door was open?’
    ‘No. The key was inside. I unlocked it.’
    More writing.
    ‘And you said there was a light on…’
    ‘Yes. In the dining room.’
    ‘Was it still on when you left?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You didn’t turn it off?’
    I stared at him, baffled. Of course I hadn’t turned it off – why would I do that? Stumble back out in the dark? But then I hadn’t been thinking straight. Maybe I had turned it off after all.
    ‘I don’t think I turned it off,’ I said doubtfully.
    He made a noise that sounded like a ‘hmm’.
    ‘Am I going to get arrested for burglary dwelling?’ I asked, accompanying the question with a laugh that sounded forced even to me.
    ‘Not right now,’ he said with a grin. ‘I’ve got enough to do.’
    Taking my statement seemed to take forever, even though it was less than an hour. He got me to read his scrawled handwriting and sign his notebook to say I agreed with what he’d put. He said he’d type it up and get me to sign the proper version some time at work on Monday. Then he went back to the house next door, and left me in peace.
    Not long after that, there was a knock at the front door. A man I didn’t recognise: an ill-fitting jacket and jeans, a full head of grey hair swept away from his face in what might once have been a quiff.
    ‘Hello. Sorry to trouble you,’ he said, and of course what I should have done was shut the door there and then. But foolishly, and because I was polite, I didn’t.
    ‘I’m a reporter with the
Briarstone Chronicle
,’ he said. ‘I’m here because of your next-door neighbour. I wondered if it was you who called the police?’
    I bit my lip. ‘I don’t know who called the police,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘They told me it was a neighbour. There isn’t a house on the other side, so I thought it must be you.’
    ‘I don’t know anything about it,’ I said. ‘Now, I’m really busy – sorry.’
    ‘Right. Thanks for your time.’
    I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Shut the door firmly. A few hours later there was another knock. I looked out through the peephole this time, and saw another man I didn’t know, definitely not someone in uniform. Youngish, casually dressed, with dark hair that needed a cut, glasses. There was a woman standing a few paces behind him, with a huge camera dangling by its strap from her wrist. I didn’t open the door.
    Despite three showers and washing all my clothes, I kept sniffing the air, the smell in my nostrils still. Maybe it was my imagination. The cat had curled up on the sofa, tucked into an indignant ball, her back to me and the room. It would probably be some time before she felt ready to look me in the eye again.
     
     
    It was nearly ten o’clock already and I’d hardly achieved anything useful. But I still couldn’t face starting the Tactical Assessment, so I opened up the despatch system and searched for my name and address. This was, strictly speaking, against the rules, but if anyone asked I could probably argue a legitimate business interest for looking.
    CALLER STATES THERE IS A BODY NEXT DOOR
*
THERE IS NO ONE LIVING THERE
*
CALLER STATES THE CAT HAS COME IN SMELLING OF SOMETHING BAD AND HAS A SUBSTANCE ON HER FUR
*
CORRECTION: THIS IS INFTS CAT NOT THE NEIGHBOURS CAT
*
PATROLS: AT55 UNAVAILABLE AZ31 UNAVAILABLE AL22 IN CUSTODY
*
INFORMED INFT THAT PATROLS WILL BE SENT AS SOON AS FREE REQUEST
*
INFT STATES SHE WILL WAIT UP FOR PATROLS
*
FROM VOTERS: RESIDENT SHOWN AS SHELLEY LOUISE BURTON
*

PLEASE CALL IF FURTHER DEV
*
2032 AL22 AT PREMISES
*
NO ANSWER TO DOOR
*
REQUEST MAJ CRIME ATTENDANCE – DET INSP PRESTON ON CALL
*
KEYHOLDER ADVICE, NO KEYHOLDER ON RECORD FOR THIS PREMS
*
REFER TO INTEL TO ADD TO LIST
     
    It went on