Magoo MacGregor hailed the first cab he could find. He had to get home and see Tippie. He didn’t trust himself to speak to her on the phone.

His stomach was churning. If the code embedded in Romilly’s resignation note was true, then Tippie hadn’t given up on her ambitions at all. Worse still, it would seem that his wife knew exactly what had happened to the science teacher, because she was responsible.

The taxi sped through the streets to their townhouse in Chelsea. It was such a pretty avenue, lined with plane trees, their leaves glittering gold in the autumn sunshine.

He paid the driver and walked to the front gate. Mr Pippin was lying in a sunny patch on the front porch. The feline opened one eye and looked at Magoo. Given it was increasingly difficult to tell whether the cat’s mood was friendly or confrontational, Magoo decided he wouldn’t stop to find out.

He put his key in the lock and turned the handle, then opened it just a sliver. There were voices coming from inside. One of the speakers was a man, the other was Tippie. Magoo stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. They were in the kitchen at the end of the hall.

‘So what now?’ the man said. Magoo knew the voice – Michael Smith. So much for Tippie not having seen him.

The kettle began whistling, the noise masking the woman’s reply.

‘Have you talked to Magoo this morning?’ Michael asked.

‘Not yet, but don’t worry. He’s in this up to his eyeballs,’ Tippie replied. ‘And if he doesn’t play along, then we both know what has to happen.’

Magoo stifled a gasp. He had to get out of there.

He pulled the door and stepped back onto the porch just as the silly cat jumped up, miaowing, and ran inside.

He fumbled with the handle.

‘Mr Pippin, where did you come from?’ he heard Tippie say loudly. Footsteps in the front hallway headed towards the door. Magoo made a dive for the bushes that separated their terrace from the one next door.

Tippie opened the front door and peered out. Magoo crouched on his haunches behind the hedge, hoping that she didn’t venture further. Fortunately, after a cursory glance, the woman spun around, pulling the door closed behind her.

Magoo let out the breath he’d been holding, along with a choking sob. He staggered to his feet, his mind racing – how could this be? The woman he’d worshipped all these years was a monster. And while he would love her until the day he died, this had to stop – now.