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grocer’s shop; the son defended himself by claiming that it was the father who had done the checks. The two individuals looked strikingly like each other: the same thick, short-sighted glasses, paunchy and bald apart from a tuft around the edge. I mused bitterly: “How about your respective harpies? Are their arses as big as yours?” Their argument was welcome: I focused on the two of them chatting away to try and calm my shaking. Sensing my gaze on him, the father greeted me, then commented, with friendly concern, “You ought to wrap up warm. Your teeth are chattering.”
    â€œI don’t know where my mind was this morning.”
    â€œNothing serious, I hope?”
    I saw in his eyes that he thought that he was due the story of my trials since he had entertained me with his own. The officer’s return created a diversion. I stood up, dizzy to the point of collapse. I wiped my moist hands on my jacket, silently cursing myself: “Hey, yellow-belly, now’s not the time to have a heart attack!”The policeman was putting on the arrogant airs of someone who’s just been torn off a strip by a superior and is bent on taking it out on everyone under him.
    â€œOfficer…”
    He gave a groan and continued to pay no attention to me. I had prepared a little speech with Meriem that we felt was more or less convincing. I had polished it while I was waiting. And then just as my hand gripped the desk, I suddenly felt like throwing myself at the guy’s feet, yelling that a murderer and rapist had abducted my daughter and calling on every last cop in the world to help me bring my child back safe and sound. Otherwise my wife would die of sorrow and, without my little girl and my wife, I was fit for the asylum…
    A telephone rang. It took me a couple of seconds to realise that it was my own. I got it out of my pocket under the policeman’s irritated gaze. The screen read ‘Caller unknown’. I knew straightaway that it was him .
    â€œWhere are you? Have you finished at the police station?”
    The voice was more guttural than the day before. I shuddered with horror.
    â€œI…”
    A few scattered neurones did actually send the order to my tongue to articulate the words “ I’m still at the police station…” But nothing happened. I stood there dumb, caught between two opposing urges to obey and to disobey the man who was planning to wreck my life. The officer leaned forward to pick up a few snatches of our conversation.
    â€œListen to me,” the stranger continued, “I’m going to kill your daughter right now, but not before I’ve fucked her. You hear me? And I’ll give everyone here a turn… It won’t be a vagina she’s got – it’ll be a pipeline! And I won’t mention her arsehole. So stop trying to be clever and answer me now!”
    My tongue forgot all rebellion, as if it had been whipped. Gathering the little will I had left to offer the irked policeman a contrite smile, I stammered, “Everything’s fine, don’t worry… Really… But I can’t talk to you right now. I’m with them… Call me back in ten minutes… But please don’t do anything…”
    I hung up. I must have been white as a sheet. I prayed that my hands wouldn’t shake.
    â€œThat was… that was my mother. You know what mothers are like…”
    I gave a little cough to regain my composure. The monster’s words were still ringing in my head.
    â€œSo… I want to cancel a complaint ( I’m going to kill her right now )… My wife was here yesterday ( fucked… You hear me? ) to report that my daughter hadn’t come home. In fact, my daughter ( I’ll give everyone here a turn) was at her aunt’s, but she hadn’t told us…”
    â€œYou think it’s our job to sort out problems with your children’s upbringing?”
    The officer looked