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and, standing on a clifftop, hurled his phone into the ocean. 'I go far away on the cliff, it was kind of a good luck ceremony.'

The morning after the frenzied clean-up, he went to see Chino. 'What's happened, Chino?'

'Be careful, man, a cop came here about something else and your name came up. They're looking at you. Be careful, you need to try to be low profile, don't buy so many things, stop going out, lay low.'

Rafael was now ready, waiting for the cops to show. It took just two days. He glimpsed a black Toyota Kijang with tinted windows tailing him, so did a quick test, making two sharp turns down unmade back roads. The Kijang mirrored his moves, but Rafael stayed cool; he expected they'd now search his house, but the evidence was gone. When he drove home, the car stopped 100 metres from his front gate. Rafael raced upstairs, shut the curtains to his aquarium-like bedroom, then looked out with his state-of-the-art binoculars. They couldn't see him, but he could see them spying on his house with their own binoculars.

I have the nice lens, and I was watching to see all their moves. They had this small shit, very small binoculars. I have huge $400 ones from Singapore. Very nice, I can see all the moves they make through them; three guys, most of the time in the car, sometimes they go out to piss, smoke a cigarette, get inside again. But so obvious, easy to see they're Indonesian cops.

And then I was, 'Shit, they're gonna come, they're gonna come,' and actually I call my friend Chino. 'Chino the guys are here, what do I do?' 'Don't do anything. Be quiet. Watch the TV. They're not going to do anything. Relax. But clean your place, don't let there be any evidence.' 'Okay, it's already clean.'

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