"Painfully aware," I said.

"And you understand that our credit is almost gone?"

"Yes," I said.

"So you tell me, Atticus, what are our options? Keep waiting, hoping that the phone is going to ring? Or do we do something proactive, do we take out some ads and see where that gets us?"

"The question may be moot," Dale said. "We may not have enough money to advertise, at least, to advertise anywhere that'll do us some good. We need a corporate account."

"I am not going to just wait for business to come to us," Natalie said. "We need to do something."

"I agree," I said.

"What, then?"

"I have no idea."

She was ratcheting up her glare when the phone rang. Dale moved to answer it, and Natalie let the glare go, went back to frowning at the backyard.

"It's for you," Dale said, holding out the phone.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Sergeant Robert Moore. Of the Two-Two SAS. You remember him?"

I nearly tripped over the coffee table going for the phone. "Robert?"

"Atticus, how've you been, mate?" The connection was good, and I couldn't tell if Moore was calling from England or across the street. "World treating you just?"

"I've got complaints, but you don't want to hear them," I said. "What's up?"

"This a bad time? I can ring you later, you like."

"No, now's fine."

"Called your apartment first, got this number off the machine. I've left the Regiment, didn't know if you'd heard."

"News to me."

Moore laughed in my ear. "Figured I was getting too old to be running through marshes with fall kit. Day comes you know the Beacons are going to beat you rather than the other way around, a man thinks about retiring. I'm in your line of work now, matter of fact."

"No kidding?" I said. Natalie and Dale were both watching me, curious, and I made a half-wave with my free hand, trying to indicate that I knew as little as they did.