‘Hi. What’s that?’

I turned the package over so that the label faced down and folded up the original wrapping. ‘You’re early,’ I said.

She dropped her backpack to the floor and sat down. ‘I like to be early. Catch people napping. Though you seem to have been working very seriously. What is that? It looks like a book. What’s the title?’

‘Etiquette, by Emily Post.’

She jumped up, turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Then she knocked and opened the door an inch. ‘Better?’

I said, ‘Come in, Mrs Wilberforce.’

She strode back to the chair. She was wearing the same clothes she’d had on yesterday and her eyes were the same glittering blue. ‘I’m pushy,’ she said. ‘I know it. It puts some people off. I hope you won’t be one of them.’

‘I can be pushy myself. Let’s move this along, Mrs Wilberforce. Have you got a questionnaire or something? I’m rather busy today.’

‘You’re not busy. You’re sitting here wrapping up a book. There’re no files in evidence. There’s dust on the furniture and…’ she leaned forward, ‘wine stains on the desk. How’s the private detective business?’

‘Lousy. Aren’t you going to tape this?’

‘I never tape the preliminary session.’

‘There is only going to be one session, Mrs Wilberforce. Busy or not, I don’t want to talk about what I do. I only agreed to see you in a moment of weakness. I was flattered by the attention I got yesterday from you and your classmates.’

‘They’re not my classmates!’ she flared. ‘I’m in an advanced sociology seminar at UTS.’

‘Good for you. But I really don’t think I can help you.’

‘You can but you won’t. OK, that’s fine. I can make something of that.’ She reached into the backpack and took out a miniature tape recorder. ‘We’ll do it your way. How long have you been a PEA?’