And yet VIXAL-4 was highly secret, known only to his research team, and although he took care to pay them well – $250,000 was the starting salary, with much more on offer in bonuses – it was surely unlikely any of them would have spent $15,000 on an anonymous gift. One person who certainly could afford it, who knew all about the project and who would have seen the joke of it – if that was what this was: an expensive joke – was his business partner, Hugo Quarry, and Hoffmann, without even thinking about the hour, rang him.

‘Hello, Alex. How’s it going?’ If Quarry saw anything strange in being disturbed just after midnight, his perfect manners would never have permitted him to show it. Besides, he was accustomed to the ways of Hoffmann, ‘the mad professor’, as he called him – and called him it to his face as well as behind his back, it being part of his charm always to speak to everyone in the same way, public or private.

Hoffmann, still reading the description of fear, said distractedly, ‘Oh, hi. Did you just buy me a book?’

‘I don’t think so, old friend. Why? Was I supposed to?’

‘Someone’s just sent me a Darwin first edition and I don’t know who.’

‘Sounds pretty valuable.’

‘It is. I thought, because you know how important Darwin is to VIXAL, it might be you.’

‘’Fraid not. Could it be a client? A thank-you gift and they’ve forgotten to include a card? Lord knows, Alex, we’ve made them enough money.’

‘Yeah, well. Maybe. Okay. Sorry to bother you.’

‘Don’t worry. See you in the morning. Big day tomorrow. In fact, it’s already tomorrow. You ought to be in bed by now.’

‘Sure. On my way. Night.’

As fear rises to an extreme pitch, the dreadful scream of terror is heard. Great beads of sweat stand on the skin. All the muscles of the body are relaxed. Utter prostration soon follows, and the mental powers fail. The intestines are affected. The sphincter muscles cease to act, and no longer retain the contents of the body…