They weren’t good pictures; the light in the office wasn’t conducive to photography and the fixed camera made no allowances for subject size-the tops of the heads of two tallish men were lopped off and of a short man and a small woman there was not much more than head and shoulders. I shuffled the pictures until I had three of each, then I leaned forward to study them more closely.

‘You see it?’ Terry said.

‘Just a minute… Yeah, I think so.’

‘Disguises, pretty good ones. Anyone ever tell you that you look like John Cassavetes, the actor?’

‘Yeah, but she had designs on my manly body.’

Terry snorted. ‘I’m told this sort of thing is pretty easy to do if you know how.’ He pinched in his fleshy nose. ‘You can fill in this bit and take in that. A make-up expert could turn you into a Cassavetes look-alike. The hair helps.’ He reached over and stabbed at one of the photos. ‘Wigs, make-up, contacts, their mothers wouldn’t know them.’

I nodded, and took one shot of each person. ‘Means there’s a well-planned operation here. Expensive too.’

‘Good returns,’ Terry said. ‘You get an as-new car for the cost of the rental deposit, and I try to keep costs down. You get plates, service book…’

I made a stack of the photos and Terry passed me an envelope. I put the pictures in it and tapped the edge against his desk.

‘I know this sounds like a psychiatrist, but have you got any ideas?’

‘No, none.’

‘What about the competition? Anyone you’ve put under pressure getting back at you?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s a cut-throat game, but it’s still an expanding market. I haven’t driven anyone to the wall that I know of. Some of the others might be having the same problem.’

‘You haven’t checked?’

‘No way; that’d be letting on what I’ve lost. That might give rise to talk. A lot of this is expense account stuff; everyone wants a solid firm to do business with. Nothing shonky.’