The roads were empty because of the virus and sailing by at 60 all I caught was a glimpse of the wall and it was difficult to say for certain, but I thought the flag was gone. I’d only just figured out what it was. Months before, when I’d first noticed it, I was stumped. I had been walking the Villain, walking all over the suburb for hours on end trying to tire him out. Even then, plodding up the hill on foot, I’d almost missed it, clocked it late, had to haul back hard on the lead and retrace some steps.

The narrow building was three storeys of orange-blond brick behind the waist-high concrete retaining wall. It gave nothing away and neither was there clarification in the security gates across the driveways on either side of it. It was an apartment block in the early-seventies style, standing perpendicular to the street. Three large windows with a wind-out panel in each were stacked one on top of the other above a compact garden of thriving succulents.