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A few weeks later he was acquitted. André looked at me more openly now and smiled. Undoubtedly he had also read my look and interpreted it accurately: good work, you won, well done, man.

A week later I read an article about Professor Joost M. Walvoort and his work on string theory. He was a nominee for the Spinoza Prize, worth one and a half million euros. ‘A tidy sum, which you can really do something with as a researcher,’ said Joost in the paper. I knew exactly how he had said that and how he had looked—a mixture of nonchalance and smugness.

I looked for Joost’s name on the website of Leiden University. ‘Prof. J.M. Walvoort (Joost),’ it said. ‘Theoretical Physics’. I could see from the accompanying photo that the years had not left any excessively deep marks. He was looking confidently into the lens, with that slightly mocking expression.

I keyed in the number and he answered immediately.

‘Bart here.’

‘Hey Pol, you again?’ As if I had him on the line for the fourth time that day. On the bike Joost called me Pol, because the sound of it suggested Flemish cycling aces. He was Tuur.