I picked up the directories and thumbed through them. Numbers were scribbled at random in the margins and over the type. The only STD number was written in a childish pencil scrawl on the inside flap of the A-K volume-the prefix was 045.

I read it out. ‘This it?’

George shrugged and flicked more ash. I wrote the number in my notebook. ‘Did Jason say anything to you about setting fire to a school?’

George sneered. ‘He wouldn’t have the guts.’

‘Did you tell this to the police?’

Alarm flared in George’s bloodshot eyes. ‘I wasn’t here when they came.’

I went past him, closing my nostrils against his frowsy, sweaty stink. ‘Why don’t you have a shave and a shower and go and see your mother.’

‘Why?’ he said.

You can trace names from telephone numbers if you’ve got the right connections. I put through a call and got the information I needed. I knew from the prefix that the service was to the Richmond district-the subscriber was Mark Scammell of Lot 1, Brewer’s Lagoon Road, Richmond. If I hadn’t encountered the SOS woman at the school gate an hour earlier, the name wouldn’t have meant a thing to me. I dug the pamphlet from my pocket and confirmed my recollection that Scammell was named as one of the property developers intensely interested in the asphalt and bricks the Education Department was putting up for sale.

It was mid-afternoon and warm. Driving west for a couple of hours would be no fun, but following a strong scent is fun in itself. I went home, showered and changed and did some quick research on Scammell. He operated two real estate agencies in Sydney, one in the Blue Mountains, another on the south coast, and was the managing director of Atlas Properties Inc.

The sun was low in the sky when I set off. I stopped at a service station for petrol, a detailed map of Richmond and the paper. The headline was: ANOTHER SCHOOL GOES UP IN SMOKE! The sketchy report said that an inner west infants’ school had been severely damaged by a fire which bore resemblances to the one thirteen days previously. I put the paper in the glovebox on top of my. 38 Smith amp; Wesson and headed for the Hawkesbury.