«Yes, sir.»

His lips twitched into a rueful grin. «All right, Harvey, don't go all formal on me. If ever I needed anyone on my side, then it's you. The timing of this whole thing stinks.»

«Sir?»

He leant forward over the desk, hands clasped earnestly. «I suppose you realize ninety per cent of the population suspect I have something to do with Penny's murder?»

«No,» I said cautiously. «Nobody's told me that.»

«Figures,» he muttered. «Did Michael brief you on Boston?»

«Yes, the salient points; I have a bubble cube full of files which he compiled, but I haven't got round to accessing any of them yet.»

«Well, when you do, you'll find that Penny Maowkavitz was Boston's principal organizer.»

«Oh, Christ.»

«Yeah. And I'm the man responsible for ensuring Eden stays firmly locked in to the JSKP's domain.»

I remembered his file; Nocord was a vice-president (on sabbatical) from McDonnell Electric, one of the JSKP's parent companies. Strictly managerial and administration track, not one of the aspiring dreamers, someone the board could trust implicitly.

«If we can confirm where you were prior to the murder, you should be in the clear,» I said. «I'll have one of my officers take a statement and correlate it with Eden's memory of your movements. Shouldn't be a problem.»

«It would never be me personally, anyway, not even as part of a planning team. JSKP would use a covert agent.»

«But clearing your name quickly would help quell any rumours.» I paused. «Are you telling me JSKP takes Boston seriously enough to bring covert operatives into this situation?»

«I don't know. I mean that, I'm not holding out on you. As far as I know the board is relying on you and me to prevent things from getting out of control up here. We know you're dependable,» he added, almost in apology.

I guess he'd studied my file as closely as I'd gone over his. It didn't particularly bother me. Anyone who does access my history isn't going to find any earthshaker revelations. I used to be a policeman, I went into the London force straight from university. With thirty-five million people crammed together in the Greater London area, and four million of them unemployed, policing is a very secure career, we were in permanent demand. I was good at it, I made detective in eight years. Then my third case was working as part of a team investigating corruption charges in the London Regional Federal Commission. We ran down over a dozen senior politicians and civil servants receiving payola for awarding contracts to various companies. Some of the companies were large and well known, and two of the politicians were sitting in the Greater Federal Europe congress. Quite a sensation, we were given hours of prime facetime on the newscable bulletins.

The judge and the Metropolitan Police Commander congratulated us in front of the cameras, handshakes and smiles all round. But in the months which followed none of my colleagues who went up before promotion boards ever seemed successful. We got crappy assignments. We pulled the night shifts for weeks at a time. Overtime was denied. Expenses were queried. Call me cynical, I quit and went into corporate security. Companies regard employee loyalty and honesty as commendable traits—below board level anyway.