Macklin was buried in a filing-cabinet and poked his head out and told me to sit down. Tilson had gone off hours ago and we were alone, with the bright neon light-tubes buzzing in the ceiling and Macklin's ashtray thick with dog-ends. He came over, giving the metal drawer exactly the correct amount of push so that as he sat down opposite me it rolled shut behind him with a click.

'Not your kind of operation.'

'It's just something to do out there while I'm waiting.'

'Yes, Egerton mentioned.'

He was sorting out the material, one glass eye gazing slightly off-centre, the hard neon light discolouring the scar so that it looked even deeper than it was. He'd been running an escape chain and got his minefields mixed up on the chart near Hellingenstadt, three months of plastic surgery so he wouldn't frighten the children any more, then he'd opted for an office job, lucky to get it.

There's not much,' he said, and slid the file across the desk to me, never handed things to people if he could avoid it, still had the shakes. 'You'd better curl up with it and give me a prod when you're ready.'

One of his phones was ringing and he answered it and I opened the folder and went through the stuff: George Henry Tewson, 43, five foot so forth, several pictures, last seen alive 22 July, Tai Tam Bay, Hong Kong. Three local fishermen (named: see Coroner's Report) saw him lose his balance in the boat and go overboard, 'a big fish tugging at his line'. According to several other witnesses, disturbance in water indicative of shark attack. Remains never found, but wallet and some papers washed up on Turtle Cove Bay, unmistakably identified, confirmed by wife.