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managing directors and MPs and movie stars, no one can ask them to make a single decision for a blissful four weeks. And our clients study for the duration of their stay here, both for the accuracy of experience, and for the rejuvenating effects of new knowledge. And we study them. Do you see how important it is to preserve the atmosphere?”
    “One of those clients has been murdered. I’m sorry if that interferes with the atmosphere, but my job is to find out who did it.”
    “We are all deeply saddened by Mr Egwu’s death. It was a tragedy,” she said impatiently.
    Oates looked into the old eyes in that flawless young face. “He had a good innings. And it comes to us all in the end.”
    Miranda met his gaze for a few moments, and then looked away with a sigh. It was as if a favourite pupil had disappointed her with some act of minor stupidity, and she was cast back into the loneliness of her own superior understanding.
    Oates was struck by the renewed power of platitudes. It was one of the most enduring effects of the Treatment, the way it had re-vivified certain old expressions. Language had grown up around the human condition like a rose around a wall, and now part of the wall had fallen the blooms of cliché swayed wildly, unsupported in the air. Miranda nodded to herself and he sensed she was steeling herself for a final attempt to enlist him.
    “Have you ever looked into someone’s eyes as they died?” she said.
    “Yes.”
    “And what did you see there?”
    “Pain and fear.”
    “How about surprise?”
    “Shrapnel in the stomach is a surprise, whether you die or not.”
    “Aren’t you afraid of death?”
    “No.”
    “How about the deaths of those you love then?” she said, as surprised by her exasperation as he was.
    They stared at one another, and for a fraction of a second Oates felt the violence in him stir in its sleep. It was a terrifying feeling. Most of the time, he could almost forget it was there, and the comforting sound of his better angels chatting to one another about traffic jams and money worries drowned out the sound of it snoring. Then someone like this said something like that to him, and the terrifying specter of his own potential rose before him once again. There was a knock on the door, and Charles inserted his head into the tension. The atmosphere made him grin.
    “Not intruding am I? Only the Sergeant was asking if the Inspector might be free to visit the crime scene.”
    “No, we were just concluding our discussion,” Miranda said, “Unless there’s any last questions you have for me?”
    “The Superintendent told me you have a man in custody.”
    “Mr Ali…” She looked to Charles.
    “Farooz.”
    “Mr Ali Farooz. He’s being held in one of the maintenance rooms outside of the main school.”
    “How did you come to suspect him?”
    “Joe, our head groundsman, was doing his rounds in the small hours this morning, and saw Mr Farooz running across the road from the students’ quarters. He called out to him – the domestic staff aren’t supposed to be inside St Margaret’s at that time, but they sometimes come inside to enjoy the warmth and the atmosphere at night. I’m told it has been quite a cold winter outside our little enclave. Joe didn’t think anything of it until Mr Egwu was found this afternoon. When we spoke to Mr Farooz he simply admitted it.”
    “I want to speak to him as soon as I’ve seen the body.”
    She nodded. “Of course. One would hope that given his confession, you and your men could wrap up your investigations overnight. Charles will be able to get hold of me if there’s anything further you need. In the meantime I trust you will encourage your team to respect the parameters laid out in this evening’s meeting. Your Superintendent has requested a full report from me on your departure.”
    She put out her hand to him, and he shook it. Her skin was very pale in the gloaming. Oates turned as he left the room, and watched her collecting