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the assignment,’ Kate said, pleased that Ash was so peppy this morning.
    But his tone changed when he replied. ‘I still think it’s a matter for the police. We’re talking serious crime here, no matter how weird and unlikely. Tell you the truth, I don’t see how they can get away with not reporting it. I only accepted the job because you seemed desperate for me to do it. Is the Institute really so badly off?’
    The man in the trench coat appeared in the open doorway further down the cabin. Ginny was giving him that same beaming smile, almost making Ash feel cuckolded.
    ‘Good morning, Mr Twigg,’ Ash heard her say. ‘How nice to see you again.’
    The response was little more than a quick grimace. He had strange, unblinking eyes that stared straight ahead rather than at the stewardess. With his bald pointed head and narrow rounded shoulders, he reminded Ash of someone, but he couldn’t think who.
    ‘Sorry, Kate. What were you saying?’ The new arrival had distracted the investigator while Kate was still talking.
    ‘I said we would soon have had money problems if it hadn’t been for this deal with Simon Maseby. Oh, no doubt we could have eked things out. We’d have got through it somehow, but this investigation will pay the bills for quite some time to come, not to mention salaries. With this recession, people are just not interested in things paranormal; they have too many material problems to worry about.’
    Ginny was waving a hand, inviting the man she’d addressed as Mr Twigg to pick any unoccupied seat, and as he approached, he ducked his bald head as if the cabin ceiling might be too low for him, which was a pointless exercise for a person so short.
    That’s it
, Ash thought to himself. Mr Twigg looked similar to a certain actor, but for the life of him the investigator couldn’t recall the actor’s name. The little man with the pale staring eyes chose a seat that backed on to the one opposite Ash. When he’d placed his small battered suitcase and umbrella (which he’d declined to hand over to the stewardess for storage) on the floor, Twigg slid down into his seat, the tip of his head just visible to Ash above the padded headrest. Before he sat, though, he’d taken in the parapsychologist without giving any acknowledgement.
    Suit yourself
, thought Ash, who had given a cheery smile, and returned to his conversation with Kate.
    ‘. . . didn’t call in the police, because, well, Comraich’s own senior doctor certified that it had been an accident.’
    ‘You’re kidding me.’ Ash frowned disbelievingly, keeping his voice even lower so as not to be overheard by the new arrival.
    ‘David, these people are very influential. Over dinner last night, Simon told me a little more about the organization he represents.’
    ‘Okay, I’m listening.’
    ‘First of all, it
is
a kind of clandestine . . .’ she paused for a moment ‘. . . consortium, you might say. Or an association, a confederation, or just an elite body of people who quietly work for the good of the country and avoid publicity of any kind. And at any price.’
    ‘Are they legal?’
    ‘Well, you might look on it as an upmarket Rotarian Society. Ludicrously, massively, upmarket. Like the Freemasons, only—’
    ‘Only more sinister,’ Ash cut in.
    ‘I don’t know. And, to be honest, I don’t care. With the fee they’re paying, I can forget about a lot of things that aren’t really important anyway.’
    ‘Uh-huh. You’re the boss. I’m intrigued, though.’
    ‘Don’t be. As far as the Institute is concerned, it’s just another paranormal investigation.’
    ‘Kate, you don’t sound too convinced yourself.’
    ‘Simon is an honest man, with great integrity. I’m sure he wouldn’t be associated with anything doubtful.’
    Ash shrugged, aware it was pointless to argue further: he’d signed the contract –
both
contracts, one on behalf of the Psychical Research Institute and another personal nondisclosure agreement – so