"It looks like a record of regular payments or receipts. Could it be people who were hiring the firm and who were paying retainers for their work. Or perhaps it could be payments for casual staff salaries".

"The difficulty is that I don't know what I'm looking for", said Sarah. "We need to get rid of Ferret Face, preferably off the face of the earth, but how will this information help us do that"?

"I'm afraid off the face of the earth is a bit extreme", said Tim, and as to the records, to be honest, I've no idea".

"All I know is that my College tutor always said that to gather the facts was usually the best way to solve most problems".

Sarah remembered what Sam had said about artificial intelligence and the importance of a system having enough information to make deductions.

The thought of their imminent meeting brought with it a tremor of anxiety inside her. It was important that she got into Sam's study but she doubted it would be as easy as she would like.

"Why don't you call one of them up and ask them. They look like private numbers", said Tim.

Sarah pulled a face. "I suppose all I have to say is that I broke into Hesdyke and Wethers' office last night and found a list and ....".

She ducked as her sarcasm was interrupted by a flying pillow.

"Say you are a TV station making a survey of how many people have dealings with Private Investigators for a fly on the wall documentary. That should clarify their relationship with Hesdyke pretty quickly and if he gets wind of the questions it will only make him nervous - and that can't be a bad thing"!

Sarah gazed at him with respect. He beamed back at her. She was yet again struck by the restless energy of his lithe body. His jeans and tee shirt were casual but there was nothing casual about his mind.

"You are a devious fellow", she said, pleased with the idea. "I will have to watch out for you". She marked the word devious with a kiss on his lips, then remembered her husband and children, felt guilty and retreated to a safe distance on the other side of the bed.

"And now kind sir, would you please vacate my bedroom while I get dressed", she said primly. "I'm feeling hungry and that smell of fried bacon that is coming up the stairs is more tempting just now than even the sweetest revenge on my husband".

Tim appeared to want to say something and then thought better of it, turned and went off with a quizzical look on his face.

The rest of the day passed quickly for Sarah with meals arriving promptly downstairs in the old farmhouse kitchen to punctuate her research on the papers.

Fortified with a few glasses of elderberry wine and a goodnight kiss from Tim, accompanied by a sigh from him that she felt pleased to interpret as frustrated desire, she fell rapidly asleep.

Morning came and the telephone was used as Tim suggested. The numbers came up a complete blank. None of the people answering admitted any knowledge of private investigators. A complete blank wall.

By 10 o'clock, Tim was convinced this approach was leading nowhere. Reluctantly, they agreed Sarah would return to London to keep the rendez vous with the lecturer and Tim ordered her a hired car.

"Less traceable", he had commented mildly.

Sarah's brief was to revisit Sam and she carried the device that they both hoped would be his undoing.