‘Ah, Cliff, can I ask what brought on the rush of blood?’

I let a moment go by. There were things he possibly didn’t know-like the tails on the people leaving the meeting-and things he probably did, like the state of my finances.

‘No.’

He chuckled. ‘No problem,’ he said, and this time he got the cadences exactly right.

Harry Tickener kept his Nikes up on his desk and examined the uppers while I said my piece.

‘Are they paying out on policies?’ he asked when I’d finished.

‘Dunno.’

‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘They’re pretty big. A lot of things’d suffer if they went belly up.’

‘What about their directors?’

Harry smiled. ‘Probably haven’t got a bean to their names.’

‘You could find out, couldn’t you?’

‘Yeah. More to the point, if they’ve made any rearrangements lately. You said there were some other private enquiry agents in this with you. Would you care to name them?’

‘Not at this stage.’

‘Reputable?’

I made a so-so gesture.

‘What’re you doing in bed with people like that?’

‘I have my reasons, Harry. You said it was interesting. Interesting enough to look into?’

‘Sure.’ He grabbed a pad and pen and jotted down some notes. ‘I’ll get back to you when I know anything. And there’s no one else sniffing?’

‘As far as I know.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Sniff,’ I said.

I went to my office and phoned Bryce Carter at Sentinel. I got his voicemail, persisted with the switchboard operator, but got no further. I left him a message enquiring whether he’d got my report and when I might expect to be paid. I attended to a few inconsequential things. He phoned within the half hour.

‘I have your report, Mr Hardy. It seems satisfactory.’

‘Not what you were hoping, I guess.’