Two days after making my statement, a police officer told me to ask my phone provider to investigate the withheld number.
But EE was clear this request should come from the Met - not the victim.
After returning from leave, the officer replied: “Apologies, I was obviously working on old information regarding withheld numbers. Sorry to have wasted your time on that.”
But the Met request needed to go through “a few levels of authorisation”, which “can be slow as it is prioritised according to risk and offence”.
At the same time, I was trying to think who could have got my number. It started making me suspicious of everyone.
Coincidentally, I was speaking to Met commissioner Sir Mark Rowley the next day about the interim Casey report, commissioned after Sarah Everard’s murder, which dealt with the force’s institutional problems.
As each day passed, I feared my offender could go on to sexually assault someone. I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure that wouldn’t happen.
Two days on, the local officer emailed to say tracing the phone number was proving too time-consuming. The Criminal Investigation Department (CID) was going to take over.
CID told me there was “very little reasonable line of enquiry to pursue considering the number used was withheld.”
They asked me if I’d sent in the recording. Despite the fact I’d sent it, CID had failed to find it on their system.
They also said they’d check with the original officer if they’d approached EE to identify the withheld number - they hadn’t.